Chapter 14
Wyatt
The following day, still woefully distracted by thoughts of Willow, I was drizzling some orange glaze onto the last batch of candy corn scones when I felt the air around the kitchen shift. I didn’t know if it was my wolf senses or a lifetime of dealing with her, but I knew it was my mother.
“What do you want, Mother?” I growled down at the cooling tray of orange liqueur and white chocolate scones.
“Oh, so I’m Mother now?” she countered.
Without even turning, I knew the pinched look that would be on her face. I didn’t have the energy to spend on her ego. There were only a few hours left before Willow closed the café and I had her all to myself for the rest of the evening.
“Sorry, is there something I can do for you, Mom?” I asked tightly as I dusted edible glitter across the scones.
Mom stalked closer, her nose still in the air even as her shoulders hunched in defense. “I’m making a roast tomorrow night. I’ve just come from the butcher and picked up a very substantial prime rib.”
I looked over my shoulder to see her straightening her chunky necklace as she frowned down at the pies cooling on one of the lower racks beside her.
I knew from her expression that she was holding back a comment about the flakiness of the crusts or the amount of meringue. Her gaze shifted to the décor hanging on the walls, and her nose wrinkled once again.
Eloise had started putting her spin on both the recipes and the shop by hanging posters of old horror movies, which kept with the theme of the town and aligned with her own personal tastes.
Apparently, Mom didn’t think horror and bakeries went hand in hand.
Clearly, she’d never worked with hand-laminated puff pastry before.
I turned to face her, wanting whatever this visit was really about to come to light. “I know you’re not here to order any dessert, so why don’t you tell me why you really came?”
She squared her shoulders and stared at me head-on. “I’d like for you and your mate to attend family dinner.” My eyebrows lifted as Mom continued, “I know we started off on the wrong paw, as it were.” She waved a hand through the air. “I know I can be a bit . . .”
She left the word hanging, but I didn’t rise to the bait. There was no word I could supply that wouldn’t garner me a smack to the back of the head.
I didn’t know what to do with the surprise invitation. If I declined, she would surely spend the next hour lecturing and guilt-tripping me. But shouldn’t I check with Willow before accepting?
I could tell my mother was ready for a fight, so I didn’t give her one. I’d give Willow the option, and if she declined, I’d make up some excuse for why she couldn’t come.
“Dinner sounds great. I’ll bring a peach meringue pie for dessert.” I pointed my chin toward the rack behind her.
“As long as it’s not overbaked, that will be fine,” she said with all the faux grace of an aristocrat. “Tell your sister to come, too. It’s been too long since we’ve all had a meal under one roof.”
“I will.” I nodded. “Thank you for inviting Willow. It means a lot to me.”
Mom gave me a curt dip of her chin. “She’s not my first choice for you, but,” she said emphatically before I could interrupt, “if it means that you will finally shift and take your rightful place in the pack, then so be it.”
It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, but it was a huge step for her.
“Dinner is at eight,” she said, pointing at me. “And remind Eloise to wear something nicer than ripped jeans.”
“I make no promises, but I’ll let her know you request her finest attire.”
Mom rolled her eyes once again. This was as close to begging as she would get, but I recognized the effort.
She reached out her hand and touched my cheek in a tender moment. “Maybe you could get your hair cut too, huh? It’s a special occasion.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and left without any other parting words.
I got back to work, speeding through the last few tasks before I could close. Thinking of having Willow all to myself was plenty of motivation, but the anxiety of having to tell her about dinner with my mother was pushing me into warp speed.
When Eloise wandered into the kitchen later, I told her all about the interaction and request.
“Why do I have to go?” she asked from her perch on the checkout counter as I finished mopping my way out of the kitchen. “It sounds like she just wants to get you and Willow alone to try and scare Willow off again. I don’t really want to be part of that.”
I looked back at my sister, squinting through the sweat that was dripping into my eyes. “Or you could be my backup for when she does start to get too involved?”
Eloise groaned. “Fine,” she relented. “But I’m not dressing up, which, bonus points, I’m sure will help distract her attention from you.”
“True.”
“You owe me one!”
I perked my brow at her. “Just one?”
“Hmm.” She tapped two fingers to her cheek as she reconsidered her bargain. “You owe me one whole day off, one minor favor, and a dozen salted, brown-butter toffee, chocolate chip cookies.”
“A dozen?”
“Yup. A friend of mine really likes them,” she said casually but wouldn’t look me in the eye to elaborate on said “friend.” “I’ve tried to recreate them, but they prefer . . . not mine.”
I leaned against the mop handle, grinning from ear to ear. “Is that so? The donut queen can’t make her big brother’s favorite cookies? Wow, today has been full of surprises.”
A wet rag smacked me in the face, followed by my sister’s laughter.
I shook it off my head with disgust, taking a tea towel off the nearest shelf and wiping away the moisture.
“I’m not making you cookies now,” I threatened.
“Okay, okay.” Eloise waved her hands in the air. “I’m sorry, but sometimes you can be way too cocky for your own good.”
“Isn’t that a natural progression to becoming alpha?”
“Dad was never cocky or arrogant,” she reminded me, hopping off the counter and taking the mop from my hand. “At least, that’s what people say. You take after him, most of the time.”
She started mopping the back register area, having already cleaned up and finished the rest of her closing list. “I’ll finish up here. You should go warn Willow about tomorrow night.”
I wrapped my arms around my sister, bringing her back tight into my chest and lifting her off her feet. She kicked out and tried to elbow me in her patented one-two assault, but she didn’t fight as hard as I knew she could.
“Oh my moons, put me down, you brute,” she strained. “Fine! Now I want two dozen cookies, and I want them by Saturday.”
I set her down, roughing her mop of hair. “Deal. See you later.” And I skipped right out the door.