I need to think about calling the night watch to come and get the cub so they can find whom it belongs to, but first, I need to get my initial batch of muffins in the oven.
Chapter
Two
Colbie
The kitchen is filled with the scent of baking muffins, cupcakes, and boiled sugar as I prepare the first batch of marshmallows. I’m deciding which of the adorable little marshmallow animals to make first when Olivia, my assistant, walks through the door at six.
“Good morning,” she greets me as she takes off her jacket and hangs it next to mine. She’s wearing leggings and a shirt similar to mine, and she puts an apron over the top of them. Her pixie cut black hair is sticking up at all angles from wearing her helmet, and it makes me smile. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she faces me and frowns. “The streets are super empty this morning. I didn’t even get a peek of the night watch on my way over here today.” Olivia lives in the human section of Aramis and has to travel a lot farther to get here than I do.
“Hmm, something is going on,” I grumble. “I tried to call them earlier to report something and the operator blew me off. I couldn’t even tell her what I wanted before she hung up.”
Her eyebrows jump on her face. “Why did you call the night watch. Is everything okay?” She comes around and leans on the prep table, crossing her arms to grill me for gossip, but then she catches sight of my problem. The cub is curled up fast asleep in its little nest and didn’t even notice her come in. The poor little thing really must be exhausted. Olivia’s eyes go wide, and she pushes off the prep table in a hurry, pointing at the little bundle of fur.
“That’s a fucking tiger!” she shouts, and I wave the thermometer in my hand to keep her quiet.
“Shh, don’t wake it. It’s had a rough night,” I tell her before sticking the probe into the bubbling sugar mix to check the temperature. I need to dissolve the gelatine and then add the hot mixture to the whipped egg whites and sugar in my stand mixer.
“Where on earth did you get a tiger cub?” she whisper-screeches, her eyes locked on the little creature. Her face softens when she realizes it isn’t going to attack her. Heck, it still hasn’t woken despite her being super loud.
“I found it huddled up under some of Brock and Niles’s boxes near the dumpster in the alley,” I answer, studying the gauge on the probe. The sugar is at the right temp, so I turn off the stove and carry the pot to the prep table, dumping in the softened gelatine sheets and whisking furiously to dissolve it. “That’s why I called the night watch. I have no idea where it came from, but some poor shifter parent has to be going out of their mind with worry.”
A small whistle escapes her mouth. “I’ll say. There’s nothing more precious to a shifter than their child. Even us humans know that.”
“I’m just going to make this batch of marshmallows, and if they still haven’t arrived, then I’ll call them again, and this time, I won’t let the operator blow me off.”
“Yeah, good plan. The last thing we need is to open and have a shifter come in for something and find us with a shifter cub in the kitchen. Apparently, their sense of smell is so good, they’d probably smell it over all the other scents in here.”
The timer on the oven goes off, and she grabs some pot holders and pulls them out, stacking the hot ones on the top rack. There are already a couple of batches cooling on there, ready for her to frost and decorate.
We work in comfortable silence for another hour. This isn’t the first time I’ve made marshmallow animals, so I know what I’m doing, but they do take a little bit of concentration. I’m planning on doing a bear, tiger, unicorn, and a cute little penguin, but I can only make the marshmallow in small batches, otherwise it hardens, and I can’t pipe it.
When it’s time to open the store at seven for the early morning coffee crowd, I’m covered head to toe in starch and powdered sugar. Thankfully, Olivia finished icing and filling all the muffins and cupcakes and setting up the front display. I would be lost without her.
There’s a knock on the back door as I’m shaking off the last of the powdered sugar and starch from the penguins. I look up, but Olivia is already in the front of the store, turning over the sign and unlocking the door. I brush off as best as I can using a tea towel and go over to see who it is. It’s probably just Niles or Brock coming to grab their first mug of coffee for the day.
Smiling and pushing a strand of my black hair off my face, I open it. “Hey, guys, just in time. Olivia should almost have the coffee ready.” When I look up, I meet a pair of glowing green eyes, and all the breath in my lungs wooshes out. I take a step back, gasping. “You aren’t Brock.”
The glowing green eyes belong to a man in the night watch’s uniform. He’s a tall, golden, tousled blond-haired, mountain ofa man with muscles that look like he could pop me if he got his arms around me and squeezed. He’s fucking gorgeous.
His eyes run the length of me, a smirk coming to his lush lips as he takes in my starch-covered form.
“Did you lose a fight with a bag of flour?” he asks, his voice all gravelly with amusement lacing his tone.
I cross my arms and glare at the man, feeling slightly defensive about my disheveled appearance.
“No, but unlike some people, I work hard for my money,” I growl, annoyed that it took them this long to get here.
“Ma’am, you made a report to the watch operator, but they didn’t take down what the actual problem is. We’re sorry it took us so long to come around. It’s been a crazy night.” The voice comes from over the mountain man’s shoulder, and when I look in that direction, I meet another glowing set of eyes. These ones are so blue they look like a tropical ocean on a summer day. Jesus, what is in the shifters’ water? This man is not quite as tall as his teammate, but he’s equally as muscular as the mountain man in front of me. They both fill out their dark blue watch uniforms like they were molded to their forms, but this one has long, black hair tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck with a few strands framing his face from where they have come loose.
Before I can answer, the blond man in front of me stiffens, and his eyes glow even brighter as he sniffs the air and scowls at me. “Why do I smell a shifter cub?” he growls and takes a menacing step forward. I watch with alarm as scales shimmer across his cheeks before they disappear again, and I hold my hands up in a nonthreatening way.
“Whoa, easy, tiger.” I step back and wave them in. “It’s why I called the night watch. I found a shifter cub near the dumpster when I arrived at work this morning. I tried to tell the woman on the phone, but she cut me off, telling me she had no availableteams.” I wave a hand, inviting them in, and the two men step into my kitchen, instantly shrinking the large space with their presence.
“I’m not a tiger,” the first man growls at me, and I roll my eyes.
“Easy, Hunt, it’s just an expression.” The blue-eyed shifter puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder before their attention turns to the little cub sleeping next to my oven. Their eyes soften, and some of the tension leaves their body.
