Page 8 of My Blind Date is a Werewolf

I was back at Jumpin’ Beans again, despite telling myself that I would get my lunch from The Eat or somewhere else. I could only imagine the wisecracks Carter and Talia would hit me with if they knew I’d ended up here again.

We were done with the pitch, and we’d done a pretty darn good job, if I do say so myself. Better than good, even. I could tell that the rest of the Council had been impressed. The only reason they were making us jump through so many hoops was pure politics.

I’d squeezed myself into a suit instead of my normal flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots and I couldn’t wait to get out of it. I didn’t end up going for a run the night before, but there was going to be a full moon, which meant that I would be running with the pack. We did so every month as a sort of pack bonding exercise and just to feel closer to the goddess, who, according to legend, gave us the gift of shifting. We were strongest during a full moon cycle and often needed to relieve the excess energy coursing through our veins. It was about the pack and the bonds we had with each other and nature.

Rolling my shoulders back and taking a breath to calm the wolf, I stepped into the coffee shop, taking in everything in one glance. Olivia was not behind the counter today, but her scent lingered in the air, faint and overshadowed by the smoky aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries, but I managed to pick it out of the myriad odors floating about the shop. My wolf lunged, grabbing for her wildly feminine and sweet scent—jasmine and something citrusy and springtime. The beast rolled around in her fresh scent and salivated, urging me to get a taste. Phantom claws pricked at the tips of my fingers, a sense of lost control I rarely ever experienced.

Soon enough it was my turn at the counter. “Hey there, Mr. C. What will it be today?” Wendy gave me a bright smile, bordering on the edge of being flirtatious. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun and she wore her Jumpin’ Beans uniform—a green and gold T-shirt with the cafe’s logo and a beige apron over it with her nametag clipped to the collar.

“I’ll stick with the usual drink orders, but why don’t you recommend something to go along with that coffee?” I asked, my gaze floating past her and zeroing in on the set of doors that led to the kitchen. There was a small rectangular window just above the door handle, but I could barely see into the kitchen. Would I be giving away too much if I asked Wendy about the whereabouts of her boss?

“Liv’s special pie for today is steak and kidney, but she also made cherry pie if that’s more to your taste. And then, of course, we have the usual.” She made a sweeping gesture to encompass the array of pastries and sandwiches encased in the glass counter in front of her and on the shelves behind her.

“I’ll take a slice of both pies and, just so I feel like I’m not being a pig, why don’t we toss in a country ham sandwich?”

“Coming right up,” she answered, ringing me up. “Will you be eating in or is it takeout?”

Again, my eyes flickered to those kitchen doors. A single glance, that’s all I needed. And, yes, I am well aware that I sounded like a creepy stalker. But what else was a guy to do? Olivia was like a magnet, drawing me into her orbit without having to lift so much as a finger.

“Is Olivia in?”

Wendy’s eyebrows knit in a frown, a speculative expression coming over her. “She’s in the office, talking to one of our suppliers. Did you want to speak with her?”

Did I? What would we even talk about? Doubt began to creep in, and before I realized what I was doing, I was shaking my head and asking Wendy to make the order to-go.

Chicken! Carter’s exasperated voice rang in my ear as I walked out of the coffee shop, takeout bag in hand and my coffee already half drained. I walked past The Book Coven on the way to my truck parked across the street only to double back because of the stupid idea that my brother put in my head that did not sound so stupid anymore. Hesitating at the front door, I peeked in and saw that Beverley was busy with a customer and a few more people were milling around the aisles.

What are you doing, Adrian? This is stupid. What can Beverly do that I can’t? I groaned to myself, trekking back to my car. I mean, it wasn’t like she used love potions because that would be… Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be love, but compulsion. There was no joy or pleasure to be had in taking a partner against their will. But then again, I thought, pausing in the act of placing the takeout bag in the passenger seat, Beverley’s success rate was at a hundred percent. All the couples she’d fixed up were happy as clams and no one had tried to run the elderly witch out of town.

I’m going in for a consultation, that’s all. What could it hurt?

An elderly couple walking on the sidewalk eyed me curiously, their fluffy white Pomeranian yapping loudly at me in a challenge. Growling from deep in my chest, I let it know which one of us was the predator and smirked as it shut its trap and dragged its owners away.

“Adrian, I had a feeling you’d be stopping by soon.” Beverley’s smile was as eerie as it was enchanting, and her choice of words sent shivers down my spine.

“What? How?” I leaned in closer and whispered because I wasn’t sure that all the customers in the shop were long-time locals. “Are you clairvoyant?”

Her laughter tinkled like the wind chimes she had mounted above her door, eyes sparkling with youthful amusement. “Oh, you sweet boy. I was just pulling your leg. I saw you dawdling in front of the store. Now, what can this old woman help you with? Something tells me it’s not a good read you’ve come lookin’ after?” She fluffed out her cherry blossom pink hair, a knowing glint in her eye that made me think she might be clairvoyant after all.

Swallowing down the lump lodged in my throat, I told her what she probably already knew. “I think I’ve found my mate, and I don’t know how to…woo her, I guess.”

Her wrist bangles jingled when she clasped her hands together, a girlish smile stretching across her face. “Why, I do believe you’ve come to the right place. When it comes to matters of the heart, you can’t depend on anyone better. I even have an inkling of who the lucky lady might be. Let’s get to talking, shall we?”

CHAPTER 5

“That was, like, the longest day ever. Should I be worried that I can’t feel my feet under me?” Wendy groaned as she flipped the Open sign to Closed and flipped the lock on the front doors.

“I thought Mrs. McGinty was never going to leave,” Peter agreed quietly, scooping up the empty coffee cups strewn about the tables and placing them in a wicker basket. “Do you think you’ll be able to get her order in time?” he asked me.

Mrs. McGinty was planning a sweet sixteen birthday for her twins, a boy and a girl, which meant two different cakes. Her son’s was easy enough to bake; she requested a three-tier Justice League cake with Batman, Superman, and The Flash taking up a tier each. But her daughter’s… Well, let’s just say I would be trolling through Pinterest for some ideas. I had no idea what a Harry Styles cake was supposed to look like.

“She’s forking out a fortune for those cakes and other baked treats, so yeah, I’ll have to pull some late nights, but I’ll get it done in time,” I answered absently, restocking the cash drawer for the next day and placing the rest of the day’s profits in a bank deposit bag for the morning.

“In that case…” Peter’s voice was barely above a whisper. I had to stop what I was doing to look him in the face. Thanks to his shyness, I was becoming proficient at lip-reading. This time, however, he was staring down into the wicker basket, arranging the mugs in neat stacks and placing them upside down. “I was thinking…that is, if you don’t mind having someone like me around…do you think I could assist you with baking the cakes?”

I blinked, wondering if I’d heard right.

“What my brother really wants to ask is if you’d teach him how to bake—preferably starting out with something more elementary and not a complicated order like this one,” Wendy piped up from behind her brother, a cheeky smile on her face. In a rare show of irritation, Peter scowled at his older sister, his eyes flashing like blue twin flames.

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