Page 33 of Fake It ’Til You Mate It

My eyes are on his lips. As if he can sense them, his mouth twitches, the ghost of a smile he doesn’t want me to see… but that he doesn’t hide from regardless. “And you’re still terrible at staying out of trouble.”

I shrug. “What can I say? It’s a consistent character trait.”

He turns for the door, shaking his head slightly as he goes. “Lock up after me, Killer.”

The surprisingly snarky nickname hits differently this time—less gruff, more like he’s rolling it over in his mouth, tasting it, deciding it’s more a tease than an accusation… but how is that possible when he still thinks I have something to do with his packmate’s death?

After Max is gone, I lean against the front counter, heart just about ready to beat out of my chest.

“Forget it,” I whisper to myself. “Yep. Forgotten.”

Gus chitters from his corner perch, calling me a liar.

“Don’t start,” I tell him. “It’s not like the big, bad wolf just kissed me in my own bakery or anything.”

He squeaks once—definitely laughter, the traitor—and curls back on his self-proclaimed bag of flour throne.

Me? I run my trembling finger over my lip, trying to figure out how exactly I’m going to forget it when tasting Max Lobo was like coming home for the first time.

CHAPTER 10

PEPPERMINT AND POISON

Another not-possum playing dead, only she’s not playing.

Mother is still not the murderer. I double-checked.

— gus

There’s nothing like a second murder to really ruin your week.

I wanted so desperately to believe that what happened to Declan Rowe was a one-off. That, against all evidence to the contrary, predators get poisoned all the time and it was just Moonburrow’s turn. It was a tragedy, and I feel awful for his friends, family, and close packmates, but just because he died, that didn’t mean that the rest of us needed to be on our guard.

I wanted so desperately to believe that, and I was able to do so until mid-morning on Tuesday.

Business has finally gone back to normal. I have my regulars—including Frannie, who side-eyes the chocolate chip cooking sample I put out this morning as though worried it would affect her the same way at the Can’t Resist Cupcakes—and a few curious supes who stop by to gawk at me. From what Max said yesterday, the investigation is his top priority, but it’s a pack priority.

Translation: keep my adorable snout of it.

He even tried to distract me with kisses. And, okay, it takes two to kiss so I’m not innocent for letting him attempt it, but if he thinks that he can use my not-so-fake attraction to him against me so that I stop snooping on my own… he’s wrong. He wants to find out who killed Declan. I want to find out who tried to frame me with the cupcake, and who might be targeting my mate. We don’t have to work together. I’m still going to do my best to figure out what’s going on in Moonburrow.

First? I had to make it up to Gus. While he found the kiss amusing, he was still notably peeved that I went to the prey circle without him.

That’s the best thing about being an opossum shifter. After we went upstairs, I switched shapes, going to my fur, and curled up with Gus to assure him that I’m looking out for him. He’s my sidekick, my little bud, and I’m just doing my best to protect him.

He was a little snappish this morning after I got up, got showered, and got dressed. Once I was done with prep—and the grocery order I placed this morning during opening arrived—I made him an apology on a plate: chopped up egg whites and pieces of overpriced, out-of-season watermelon.

I set it down in front of him on the back counter. He dives into it.

I scratch the space between his ears. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”

Gus chitters smugly, forgiveness finally achieved, right before he starts nomming on a watermelon cube.

I smile. I don’t know what I’m going to do about that freak kiss last night, that spark, that attraction… that moment when the world seemed right because I was with my mate and Max almost seemed to recognize that I was his… faking it is getting a lot harder.

He said forget it.

I wish I could.