Page 39 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

“That’s got to be a nightmare for inventory management.”

He chuckled. “I suppose so, although Mom has never complained.”

“How many wolves live here?”

“Around seventy, but more than half of those are latents or old people.” His gaze grew steadier, and his voice was soft when he added, “We’re hoping to change that, though.”

Uh oh. Here they went again.

This time, though, he spared her from replying by tilting his head toward the cafe door. “Ready for your elderberry jam lecture?”

It was easy to return his smile. “You promised me pancakes.”

His face split in a grin. “You’ll get those, too. I promise.”

He ushered her forward, his palm gentle in the small of her back. Just as they reached the door, movement in her peripheral vision made her turn and gaze down the sidewalk.

A lone figure—a male from the look of him—in dark jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt moved away from them. He walked at a good clip, his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets.

Ben reached from behind her and pulled open the door, making a small bell tinkle over their heads.

The male in the hoodie slowed, then looked over his shoulder. His gaze connected with Haley’s. Bright red hair shone under his hood, the cut long enough in the front to make bangs flop over his forehead. His stare drilled into her, making her nape tingle.

She turned enough to catch Ben’s eye. “Who is that?”

“Hmm?”

She twisted around again. “That guy in the—”

He was gone.

Ben spoke behind her, a blend of curiosity and confusion in his tone. “Who?”

She squinted, struggling to see down the stretch of sidewalk, but the figure was gone. “No one, I guess.”

“Probably just somebody heading out of town.” Ben pushed the door wider. It seemed to jerk away from him, and the wood smacked against the wall, setting the bells jangling wildly.

Haley took a quick step back.

He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry . . . I’m still getting used to my Gift.”

The smell of baked goods rushed out of the shop, drawing her attention away from the street. She stepped into the cafe, then let her gaze wander.

Like its exterior, the cafe’s inside was charming, with exposed brick walls and square wooden tables topped with glass jars full of wildflowers. One wall held built-in cabinets stacked high with gleaming white plates and cut crystal, and another sported a tall wooden bar lined with metal stools. Behind the bar, silver taps rose from a counter like elegant swans. A glass shelf groaned with a row of bottles sporting liquid in every color of the rainbow.

Haley turned to Benjamin. “Is that a—”

“Soda fountain. I used to work here when I was a kid.” He flashed her his bashful smile. “Until my mom fired me for sticking my head under the chocolate syrup dispenser. I was a chubby kid.”

She laughed, her mind conjuring an image of a plump, dark-haired boy sneaking ice cream toppings.

“Ben?”

They both turned as a young woman in an apron bustled from a back room.

Werewolf. Haley sensed it at once—like sparks firing against her skin or someone brushing her hair the wrong direction when she was in wolf form.

The woman’s blond ponytail bounced as she hurried toward Benjamin, her pretty face split in a smile. Her eyes were the same blue-green as his.

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