Chapter 4
James/ Rafael
JAMES
The bell above the bakery door jingled, and the warm scent of brown sugar and cinnamon wrapped around me like a hug.
If I hadn’t already eaten my weight in pastries this morning, I might’ve drooled. I didn’t come for the pastries, though.
Okay, technically I came for almond flour, but that was just a very convenient excuse. We had run out this morning, and Callum told me to ask Bear and Bun.
I jumped at the chance. Probably a little too quickly, if I was being honest. I scanned the bakery and spotted him right away. Rafael.
Leaning over the counter, sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with flour like some kind of grumpy, brooding baking god.
Gosh, he looked good. He always looked good. My wolf stirred in the background, tail flicking in quiet excitement.
“Hey,” I said, walking up to the counter with what I hoped was a casual smile.
Rafael looked up, eyes widening slightly before he schooled his face back into its usual scowl. “You lost?”
I smirked. “Nope. Almond flour?”
He blinked. “Almond flour?”
“Yeah. You guys have any to spare? We ran out,” I said.
He stared at me like I was trying to pull a fast one. Technically, I was. Kind of. But it wasn’t a complete lie.
“Right. Almond flour.” He sighed, clearly skeptical, but turned away. “I’ll check the back.”
As he disappeared into the kitchen, the other bears around the shop looked at each other. Then at me.
Oh no.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Cassian said, leaning one hip against the counter and sipping his iced coffee like he had all the time in the world.
“Did you get lost on your way to Wolf and Whisk?” Leo added, grinning over a tray of freshly glazed cinnamon knots.
“I’m just here for almond flour,” I said, holding my hands up in mock surrender.
“Uh huh,” Dorian said, raising an eyebrow.
Sean, bless him, stepped in before things got too out of hand. “Leave him alone, you guys. Maybe he really is here for almond flour.”
“Maybe,” Cass said, dragging out the word.
Thankfully, Rafael returned then, holding a large bag of almond flour and looking suspiciously flushed.
“Here,” he muttered, thrusting it into my arms.
“Thanks,” I said, taking it carefully. “I owe you guys.”
“You owe me,” he corrected. “That stuff’s not cheap.”
His tone was gruff, but there was no real heat behind it. My wolf was practically wagging its tail.
“I’ll make it up to you,” I said with a wink.
