It wasn’t perfect. The toast was a little burned on one side, and we both had terrible bed hair. But it felt right. Like the start of something real.
And when we finished eating, he pulled me back into his arms without a word, like he couldn’t get enough.
* * *
RAFAEL
The sun had barely crested the rooftops when we stepped outside, the air crisp.
James locked the door behind us, a bounce in his step, hair still mussed from sleep and his sweatshirt two sizes too big.
It was mine, in fact, and seeing him wear it did things to my chest I wasn’t ready to unpack. I’d offered him a ride.
I grumbled about the cold, the sidewalks still damp from last night’s rain, but he just shook his head and gave me that irresistible grin. Like I’d said something funny without realizing.
“It’s a beautiful day,” he said. “We’re walking.”
He bumped his shoulder into mine as we strolled down the sidewalk, hands brushing with each step.
I laced my fingers through his before he could pull away, almost out of reflex, and to my surprise… he didn’t hesitate.
He just looked at me, eyes warm and a little sleepy, and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. No sarcasm. No jokes. Just that soft, stupidly charming smile like I’d done something right.
I’d walked these streets a hundred times. Morning deliveries, mid-shift coffee runs, late-night patrols with Beau when we still thought this town might need taming.
But walking them now, with James beside me, full from breakfast and humming under his breath? It felt different. Calmer. Like Sugarpaw Springs finally made sense.
We stopped at the corner so James could buy a paper from the old dispenser outside the florist’s. The thing barely worked anymore, but he insisted.
He fished out a few coins from his hoodie pocket, popped the latch open, and unfolded the paper like he was about to give a dramatic reading on the town square.
“Tragedy strikes again: Pothole claims its fifth tire of the week.” His voice rose like a news anchor. “When will the madness end?”
I rolled my eyes. “You always this dramatic in the mornings?”
“I’m fueled by emotional validation and spite,” he said proudly.
“And sugar,” I muttered, sipping my coffee.
“That too.”
The florist tending the roses in the window chuckled, shaking her head. James gave her a little wave.
He knew everyone. Even the cranky neighbors who swore shifters would ruin the neighborhood eventually liked him. It was impossible not to.
He was lighter today. The weight in his shoulders hadn’t vanished, but it had shifted. Rebalanced. Like now that Avery was on his way out, James was finally breathing for real.
I hadn’t told him yet, but we were still keeping tabs on the bastard. Just because Avery had a deadline didn’t mean we trusted him to follow it.
But I didn’t say any of that. I just let James enjoy the peace. The quiet before whatever came next.
As we turned onto the block where Wolf & Whisk sat, James tugged on my hand. “You don’t have to walk me all the way.”
“I know,” I said, still holding on. “I want to.”
He glanced at me, and there it was. That flicker of disbelief. Like some part of him still didn’t trust this to last. That someone might choose him and mean it.
So I held tighter.
