The dream, or memory, I didn’t know what to call it anymore, had peeled my fear raw again. I wiped my face and stared out the window at the quiet darkness.
Sugarpaw Springs was small. Isolated. No one here knew me. I’d been extremely careful and vigilant, and maybe that was the reason I was still alive.
But deep down, I knew better. Monsters didn’t care about distance or silence. They didn’t need a map to find you.
Breathe, Sean, I reminded myself. You’re thousands of miles away now. Orin can’t get to you here.
The thought barely steadied me, but I forced myself upright anyway. The bed creaked as I sat up, scrubbing my hands over my face.
I was still buzzing from the nightmare, sweat clinging to the back of my neck, but I wasn’t going to let it ruin my first day.
I spotted a small bathroom tucked in the corner of the unfinished space and padded toward it. The floor was cold under my feet, but I didn’t care.
The moment I turned the faucet, the pipes groaned like they hadn’t been used in a century.
It took a while for the water to warm, but eventually, a stream of hot, comforting water flowed down my back.
I lingered longer than necessary, letting the heat wash the fear away. Letting it become a new kind of ritual, one that said I was still here. I was still safe.
Eventually, I dried off and dressed, pulling on jeans and a soft T-shirt. My hair was still damp, curling at the ends as I headed downstairs.
The scent of coffee hit me first. Then I heard it. Someone humming off-key below.
Beau.
My chest fluttered like I’d swallowed a live bird. I shook it off.First day of work, Sean. Not first date.I slapped my cheek lightly and exhaled before descending the stairs.
Beau stood behind the counter, hair a little tousled like he’d just run his fingers through it, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, the corded muscles there flexing as he poured two coffees.
He looked over his shoulder when he heard me, and dang. That small smile of his should be illegal before 8 a.m.
“Morning,” he said, voice a deep rumble that made my skin warm. “Sleep well?”
“I did,” I lied automatically. But then I remembered that shifters could smell lies. My eyes darted to his face.
Beau didn’t call me out on it. He just raised an eyebrow knowingly, then nodded to the counter where two coffees and a brown paper bag sat. “Got us some breakfast.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, though a flutter of something warm moved through me.
When was the last time someone brought me coffee? Let alone breakfast?
“I wanted to,” he said simply. “Besides, I need your professional opinion.”
He slid the bag toward me. I opened it and pulled out a flaky croissant, the scent of dark chocolate and warm butter wrapping around me like a blanket.
I took a bite, and nearly moaned.
It was soft in the center, crisp on the outside, rich with dark chocolate that melted on my tongue but wasn’t overly sweet.
The kind of pastry that told you someone put a good deal of thought to it when they made it.
“Oh wow,” I murmured around the mouthful, swallowing with a smile. “This is amazing.”
“Told you.” Beau folded his arms over his chest, watching me with an amused gleam in his eyes. “It’s from Wolf and Whisk.”
“Wolf and Whisk?” I asked, licking chocolate from the corner of my mouth.
I didn’t miss the way his gaze tracked the motion.
