Chapter 22
Thankfully, Cal is gone when I force myself to head downstairs and get back to work. It’s good timing, because not a minute later, August pulls up in front of the lodge, his truck bed full of supplies.
I wave to him and head over to his truck to help, opening the passenger door to grab the tray of coffees and two giant boxes of pastries. “This is enough for me, but did you get anything for the guests?” I tease as I scoop the boxes up from the passenger seat.
August laughs, but there’s a weird look on his face, and it takes me a moment to realize why.
I touch the brim of Cal’s hat. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like my new look?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “You just took me by surprise. Not something I expected to see when I got back.”
Huh. I thought he’d tease me about how silly I look, because objectively, it’s absurd.
“You should know by now that Cal loves to mess with me,” I shrug, shutting the car door with my hip. “This is his latest hazing. But don’t worry, I’ll give it back before guests get here. He needs his hat more than he needs to make a fool of me.”
August’s brow furrows as he rounds to the back of the truck and grabs a few bags. “I don’t think Cal was trying to make you look foolish…” There’s a soft, almost fond tone to his words.
Weird. Maybe my theory about the hat was wrong?
“But you agree, it looks ridiculous, right?” I prompt, confused by the vibes all this hat nonsense is putting off.
August shrugs. “I don’t know. I think it’s kinda cute. Sweet.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Now I’m even more confused.
We head into the lodge, dropping one box of pastries off with Marcie for her to arrange into welcome baskets for the guests, and bring the coffee and remaining pastries back into the kitchen for staff to grab when they have a moment.
Remy is scrounging in the pantry when we enter, and he startles when he hears us come in, dropping a box of cake mix on the ground.
“Oh, hey!” he says, voice pitched high like we caught him doing something illicit. He does a double take when he notices Cal’s hat on my head.
“I know, I know. It’s ridiculous.”
Remy’s brows knit together. “Ridiculous? No. It’s…I didn’t realize…” August shoots him a weird look and Remy shakes his head, not finishing whatever he was about to say. He swipes the cake mix closer to him with his tail and stoops to pick it up.
“Whatcha doing with that cake mix, Rem?” August asks before I can find out what Remy was going to say.
“Oh, this? I, uh, I was going to bake a cake.” He clutches the mix to his chest protectively, as if we’re going to take it away.
“Right now? When we have guests arriving in an hour?” August’s expression grows bemused. “Jenny will need the oven for dinner.”
“I was going to ask if I could borrow your kitchen, Belle.” Remy rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Would you mind if I use your kitchen for a bit? I promise I’ll clean everything up as soon as I’m done!”
“Uh, sure?”
August huffs, shaking his head. “No, you can’t use her kitchen! You have work to do. You should be out working with Wylie, not screwing around.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard August raise his voice to someone, and the sheer amount of stern dad energy he’s exuding makes me have to fight back a laugh, especially when Remy looks thoroughly chastened.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to slack off! It’s for luck.”
“Luck?” I ask, intrigued.
“It’s a minotaur thing. When there’s something important happening, something you’ve worked really hard for and need a good outcome for, you bake a luck cake. I thought you’d understand, Gus.”
August cocks his head. “Never heard of a luck cake before in my life.”
“What?” Remy looks thoroughly shocked. “Come on, really? Every minotaur knows about luck cakes! You bake a cake, and whoever gets the piece with the coin gets even more luck. My mom made one for us every time something big was happening, and she said it was tradition.”
August shrugs. “Nope, still never heard of that.”
“I’m not making it up! It’s a real thing,” Remy huffs.
August holds his hands up in appeasement.
“Rem, you know minotaurs don’t exactly have a lot of universal traditions.
Just because I don’t know what you’re talking about doesn’t mean it’s not real.
It’s probably something from where your family originated before the shift.
It’s important to you, and that’s what matters. ”
That seems to appease Remy, who loosens his defensive posture. “I know it’s silly. But it can’t hurt, can it?”
“I think a luck cake sounds awesome. We could use all the luck we can get. Do you need to be the one to bake it, or is that something I can help with? I need to go back to the house and cobble together some things for indoor activities with the supplies August got, so I could bake the cake at the same time.”
“You’d do that for me?” Remy asks, sounding genuinely surprised.
“Of course I would. We’re friends! Besides, it’s not only for you. It’s for all of us.”
“Thank you so much, Belle!” Remy crosses the room and pulls me into a crushing hug, dropping the cake mix again. I note how it’s sweet, but I don’t feel the flutters I did when Cal hugged me.
When he pulls back, Remy’s eyes widen as I fix the hat that got knocked in front of my eyes in the hug. “Shit, sorry! Don’t tell Cal I did that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Calm down,” August says, rolling his eyes.
Remy thanks me again and scurries off, leaving me to pick the cake mix up off the floor. I wince a little as I do, still sore from my ill-advised toy use the other day.
“Alright, what the heck is up with this hat thing?” I ask before August can redirect the conversation again.
He picks at the sleeve of his flannel. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on! You and Remy are acting so weird about something that’s a joke.” I place a hand on my hip and level him with a stern glare.
August sighs. “It’s not my place to explain Cal’s choice to give you his hat.”
“See, that only makes me more confused! You’re making it sound like he’s branded me with it. Is it a minotaur thing?”
He snorts. “No, not a minotaur thing.”
“Dude, just tell me,” I groan. “I don’t need this weirdness today! I’m already stressed out and worried about Cal having a mental breakdown. Do you know how hard he is on himself? He was on the verge of tears because he’s so worried about messing things up and being left alone with nothing.”
I know I shouldn’t be sharing that with August, but he’s Cal’s best friend. He should know how his friend is struggling.
“He talked to you about that?” August’s surprise is clear on his face.
“Well, yeah…”
“Wow.” August runs a hand through his hair, a small smile forming on his lips. “You got him to talk when I’ve been trying for ages with no success. I should be annoyed, but all I care about is that he’s letting someone in.”
Of course August knows Cal is struggling. I’m relieved that he doesn’t seem offended by my flippant remark.
“I don’t know why he opened up to me,” I say weakly.
“Don’t you?” August asks cryptically.
When I give him a blank look, he chuckles. “Belle, what prompted him to give you his hat?”
“I don’t know! We hugged, and I told him he wasn’t alone, and that I’d be there for him. Then he said something about me having him too and put the hat on my head. Why would he do that?”
August laughs at my frustration, making me want to smack him. “Like I said, it’s not my place to assign meaning to Cal’s actions. But you’re a smart woman who has access to the internet. Might find a potential answer there.”
“Ugh, fine.” I want to pull my phone out immediately and look it up, but restrain myself. I snag my coffee from the cardboard holder with a bit too much force, almost knocking the whole thing over. Embarrassed, I take a sip of my drink, and I can tell August is trying hard not to laugh.
“Thanks for this. And for getting all the supplies. It’s a huge help, so I’ll forgive you for being annoying.”
August chuckles. “Happy to help. Speaking of which, I’ll drive you to the house so you can bake that cake.”
We gather up the needed cake ingredients, then head to his truck, making the short drive to Dawn’s house. August unloads the last-minute supplies I asked him to get, and tips his hat at me in a way that feels teasing before heading off.
I don’t even make it thirty seconds after he’s gone to search “giving someone your cowboy hat meaning”.
I let out a little squeak when the summary of the top result says “wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”
Wait, what?
Clicking through to the forum post, I scan the replies to someone who had posed a question similar to mine, my pulse quickening to a flutter.
If a cowboy puts his hat on your head, it means he wants to take you home.
Putting your hat on a girl’s head means you’re interested in her romantically.
He wants you to kiss him.
That means he’s staking his claim on you.
Holy shit. There’s no way.
A quick search of a few more results confirms the meaning.
I wasn’t misreading the moment. Cal wants me.
What the fuck am I meant to do with that information? Did he think I understood that, and that’s why he was weird about me trying to give the hat back?
How the hell was I supposed to know there was a cowboy hat code?
I pace around the kitchen, unable to focus on anything but this revelation. Excitement, confusion, and annoyance thrum through me in equal measure.
Why would he choose today of all days to do this? Is it because I hugged him and told him he has me? Because I meant it, but not romantically. Or did I?
Ugh, either way, that’s a pretty gigantic leap for him to make. Sure, I admitted I watched him jerk off, so he knows I’m not repulsed by the thought of him, but we’re only just now becoming friends.
I’m not going to sleep with him because we connected for a moment.
Even if I made myself come to the thought of him fucking me.
It wouldn’t even work!
I tore myself trying to fit the head of that damn toy in me. Maybe if I had more time to work up to it…
No, I’m not sleeping with him!
We have to work together for the foreseeable future, and sex will only complicate our already fragile accord.
And even if that wasn’t the case, I’m not falling back on old habits, no matter how much I like Cal.
I refuse to let another man into my life, to let someone use my body for their pleasure, to give someone my heart, only to have them toss me aside when they find a better option.
A knock on the front door startles me, and I drop the poor, battered box of cake mix. I answer the door, trying to wipe the shock off my face as I do.
Cal stands on the other side, and any attempt at calm vanishes. “Cal!”
His brow sets into an instant furrow. “What’s wrong?”
“I..”
I open and close my mouth a few times like a dying fish, trying to respond. To my horror, the words that finally come out are, “I’m not going to sleep with you!”
Cal takes a startled step back, eyes widening. “W-what?”
I poke him in the chest, hard. “Don’t act confused, cowboy. The hat! We’re not having sex.”
He grabs my hand, pulling it away from his chest, and I inhale sharply at the feel of his fingers around my wrist. “Belle…”
Something wild and reckless surges in me at the rough way he says my name. Before I can stop myself, I surge up onto my toes, grabbing his shoulder with my free hand and yanking him down so I can press my lips to his snout.
To my sheer mortification, he does nothing as my lips press against his.
I pull back, horrified that I let the internet convince me of something so incorrect. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what—”
Cal grabs me, hauling me against him as his head dips and he presses his mouth to mine. I gasp into the kiss, a rush of excitement and surprise flooding my mind.
It’s nothing like a kiss with a human, but I don’t care. His scent and the taste of sweet coffee on his tongue as it swipes softly against the seam of my lips, and the low hum he lets out as I melt against him make it better than any other kiss I’ve had in my life.
He’s kissing me like I’m something special. Like maybe he likes me beyond something fleeting.
It calls to something desperate and needy inside me, chipping away at my resolve, even though he’s the last being on Earth I should seek this from.
God, one kiss and I’m ruined. This is going to end in utter disaster, but I can’t find a way to stop.