Page 7 of Love is Trash in Hallow's Cove

Ouch, okay. Maybe not my mate.

“It’s, uh, nice…” Jake fades off, breathing in deeply for a moment, and letting out a small sound of discomfort.

Shit, do I smell bad? I took a shower last night, but maybe I forgot to put on deodorant. I wrap my arms around myself, fighting off the urge to flee.

“So, um, I’m here because I wanted to ask you about something,” I say, trying to get this back on track before I spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

“I didn’t do it,” he says immediately.

“Uh, what?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, sputtering at my confusion. “N-nothing!”

What the hell is this conversation? I’m so lost.

“If you’re not able to talk right now, I can come back later,” I offer.

Jake shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. Don’t come back later.”

Yikes, he doesn’t have to sound so adamant about not seeing me again. “There was a raccoon digging out in our shared dumpster last night. Freddie and Bettie said to talk to you about it, so hereI am, talking to you.”

His eyes go wide. “A raccoon? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I saw it run off with my…” I flush, realizing I probably shouldn’t tell my neighbor who clearly dislikes me for god knows what reason, that a raccoon stole my lucky panties. “With some trash.”

“Uhh, okay,” Jake says with a shrug. “Raccoons do that sometimes. Was it something valuable?”

“N-no! Nothing… It doesn’t really matter what it was. It also knocked over some crates. I guess I wanted to let you know, in case you thought we should do something about it.”

Jake’s eyes narrow. “What would we do about it? It’s not hurting anything. Clearly, whatever it was digging around for wasn’t wanted anymore—it was trash. Which is fair game.” He clears his throat. “For a raccoon, that is.”

I’m starting to understand why the triplets said this guy is weird. He sounds like he’s deeply concerned about raccoon rummaging rights.

I nod. “Sure, but I don’t want my aunts to come home to a raccoon infestation in their dumpster because I did nothing about it.”

“That won’t happen,” Jake says dismissively.

“How can you be certain?” I’m getting frustrated with this dude. He might not like the way I look or smell, but he doesn’t have to be rude.

He pinches his brow and lets out a heavy sigh. “I… I can talk to them.”

“To the raccoon?” My brow furrows. Is that something that shifters can do? I know better than to ask and sound like a super ignorant human.

His eyes fly open and he looks alarmed, like I caught him saying something he shouldn’t. Oh damn, is talking to animals some kind of secret shifter power they’re not supposed to talk about?

“I meant it metaphorically!” He lets out a forced laugh and a smile finally returns to his face. “I’ll deal with it. The raccoon won’t bother you again.”

I’m thoroughly confused by this entire interaction, so I decide it’s better to just go with it. “Oh. Okay. Well, thanks!”

“Of course. I’m here for anything you need.” Jake’s eyes lock onto mine, gleaming gold for an intense moment that makes me feel off balance. I reach out to grab the bookshelf to steady myself and accidentally knock a few books over.

“Crap! Sorry!” I say, scrambling to pick it up. At least this time, he doesn’t try to help.

“You can have them, if you want,” he says, gesturing to the worn books in my hand.

“I don’t…” I trail off as I start to decline, realizing that this weird man offering to give me some old romance novels is probably the best possible outcome of this conversation. I don’t want to offend him by not taking them. “Sure, thanks!”

He nods, holding my gaze for a quick moment. “Okay, bye,” he says, and hurries away, back through the racks of clothes and out of sight.

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