“Hey there, bears!” called a familiar voice. Mrs. Delaney, the older woman whose cat the others rescued from a tree, waved at us from the front row. “Y’all better sit close so you can hear real good.”
I smiled, grateful for the anchor.
We slid into a middle row just as another familiar group walked in, sleek, composed, and wolfy as heck. Wolf and Whisk.
Callum nodded at me, and I have polite nod back, but James made a beeline straight for Rafael.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite grizzly,” James said, leaning down with a slow smile. “Still pretending you don’t like me?”
Rafael didn’t even blink. “Still pretending you don’t like being ignored?”
Leo snorted, and I swear James’s eyes sparkled as he sat two rows behind us, like this was a game and Rafael was his favorite puzzle.
Sean nudged me. “Should we worry about that?”
“Nah,” I muttered. “If James ever got serious, Rafael’d run faster than a squirrel during hunting season.”
The meeting started with the usual pleasantries. Finances, upcoming roadwork, some complaints about the raccoons raiding trash again. Boring.
Until the mayor, a spry woman with sharp eyes and a voice like a foghorn, stood up and cleared her throat.
“We’re pleased to announce a town-wide baking competition will be held at the Sugarpaw Summer Festival,” she declared. “All local bakeries are encouraged to participate. Cash prize for the winner, and the coveted Golden Whisk Trophy.”
Gasps. Murmurs. And then silence.
I didn’t need to turn around to feel the wolves grinning behind us.
Leo leaned over. “Please tell me we’re entering.”
Rafael smirked. “Like hell we’re letting the wolves walk away with a trophy shaped like a whisk.”
I glanced at Sean, who looked downright sparkly. “You in?”
He beamed. “Oh, I’m so in.”
Across the aisle, James caught my eye and lifted a brow, clearly listening. “Guess we’ll see if claws beat fangs,” he said, grinning.
“Oh, they will,” I said coolly. “Trust me.”
The moon was high by the time we stepped away from the glow of the town hall and into the cool hush of Sugarpaw’s side streets.
Streetlamps cast golden halos on the pavement, and somewhere in the distance, frogs were chirping like nature’s own backing band.
We didn’t say much at first. Just walked side by side, brushing hands, comfortable in the quiet. Then, once we were a few blocks out, I finally spoke.
“Sean?”
He glanced over, lips parted in the beginnings of a smile.
I reached out, tugged him gently to a stop just off the path, beneath the swaying limbs of a cottonwood tree.
“We need to talk about Orin.”
Sean stiffened slightly. Just enough for me to notice.
“I know,” he said softly, voice thinner than it had been during all that banter earlier. “I was hoping we could just... have one good night without it hanging over us.”
I nodded. “You deserve that. But I also don’t want to pretend it’s not there.”
