Page 12 of Lycans & Lattes

Lying in bed, I stared up at the ceiling until the glow-in-the-dark stars I’d hung overhead when I’d first moved in gently swayed.

This was going to be the longest night and workday of my life.

6

Wyatt

My inner wolf was too loud today, and the brioche was taking the beating.

I hadn’t slept since seeing Willow. Instead, I’d gone on a three-mile run followed by a bracing swim across Lake Nevermore, then prepped two large batches of brown-butter toffee chocolate chip cookies. The moment my muscles would start to feel exhaustion, I would remember the way Willow’s thighs had felt wrapped around me and another surge of energy would burn through me.

To say I was distracted was an understatement. I hadn’t even noticed that my sister had clocked in until she threw a wet rag at my head.

“I said, whatever that dough did to you, it didn’t mean it!” She snickered at her own joke.

“Oh. Uh.” I looked down at the overworked ball and sighed. “I’m making bread pudding,” I lied.

“Yeah, sure.” She snorted. “You look like you could use a break.”

She handed me a takeaway cup of coffee that I instantly recognized. Harlow had helped design the new branding. The outline of a witch riding a broom across a pumpkin-moon on a backing of forest green fit the town motif perfectly.

I gave my sister a grateful nod and sipped at the hot cinnamon flat white. It felt like Willow. Which was insane to think, but somehow Eloise read my mind and gave me confirmation. “Yes, I made sure she made it for you. I know how particular you are.”

“It’s just . . .” I scrambled for an excuse while my sister took a long pull of her iced coffee, one brow raised in scrutiny. “Harlow is still learning. And Willow knows how much sugar to put in my drinks.”

“Mm-hmm. She knows you don’t like things too sweet, right?”

I choked on my coffee, and Eloise erupted in a giggle fit.

“You’re hilarious.” I scoffed when she finally finished laughing herself silly. “And about an hour late, by the way.”

She tied on her apron and flopped her curly blonde hair into a messy bun, revealing the undercut she’d started wearing two years ago, much to our mother’s chagrin. Ironically, my mother blamed her going to university on the alternative hairstyle, tattoos, and septum piercing, but never once commented on the fact that Eloise had come out as a lesbian after college—something I had long suspected but never commented on until Eloise had announced it herself. I wondered if our mother had suspected, too.

“I needed a nap,” Eloise said with a yawn and a giant stretch. “I was selling at the counter all morning. Not a single one of my famous apple cider donuts is left in the case.” Classic little sister brag. She glanced out the window at the midafternoon sun. “You’re up early. And happy about it. What’s going on?”

I shrugged. “I just wanted to finish my deliveries early today.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, and when I gave her a “drop it” look, she added, “Does it have something to do with a certain buxom, blonde café owner?”

“Don’t call her buxom,” I snapped.

“But she is,” she sang and mimed an hourglass shape in midair.

“I don’t want you thinking about her body.”

Her pierced brow arched. “Afraid I could steal her from you?”

“Anyone who tries will become well acquainted with my fangs,” I growled. “She’s mine.”

“Oh, I know. Cool it with the hackles, bro,” she said with a laugh. “I’d better get to work before you start peeing in the corner to mark your territory.”

She stood right as the back door opened and a silver-haired demon walked in.

“We’re out of cinnamon rolls, Naphula,” I called as the demon leaned coolly on the doorframe.

Her dark eyes slid from me to Eloise. “I’m not here for cinnamon rolls.” She put her hands in her pockets and strolled casually into the room. “I need to talk to little sis, if that’s okay.”

I looked between them and knew to stay out of the crossfire.