3. Rafael
Rafael
It started with a box.
A medium-sized, boring cardboard box sitting on the counter like it owned the place. I narrowed my eyes at it as I walked in, wiping flour off my hands with a towel.
We’d just finished a round of morning prep at Bear and Bun, and I was already on my second cup of coffee. I wasn’t in the mood for surprises.
“What’s that?” I asked, nodding toward it.
Cassian didn’t even look up from where he was elbow-deep in brownie batter. “Delivery guy brought it earlier,” Cassian said.
“It’s not ours,” Sean piped in from behind the espresso machine, frowning slightly. “The label says Wolf and Whisk.”
I blinked. “And it’s still here… why?”
Beau stepped out from the back just in time to catch the question. “We thought you’d like a change of scenery.”
I stared at him. “What?”
Cass finally looked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know. Get some fresh air. Stretch those long, brooding limbs of yours.”
“I did the morning deliveries the other day,” I said flatly. “Why am I the one getting stuck with this?”
“Fate,” Leo said solemnly, walking by with a tray of cinnamon knots.
Sean tried to hide a smile behind his mug. “We all drew straws again. You lost.”
“I wasn’t even in the room this time!” I snapped.
Beau gave me that slow, innocent blink of his. “And yet, the universe decided.”
“I hate all of you,” I grumbled.
“That’s fair,” Cass muttered. “Now grab the box, Grumpy Bear.”
I glared at him but stepped forward anyway, snatching the package off the counter like it had personally insulted me. The tape squeaked under my grip.
“Anything else you want me to deliver? A heartfelt apology for our rival bakery’s superior scones? A lock of hair?” I grumbled, heading toward the door.
“No, but if James is working, tell him I said hi!” Sean called after me.
“Tell Rowan I miss his croissants,” Leo added.
“Tell their espresso machine to go to hell,” Cass said.
I muttered something unprintable and pushed the door open, the little bell jingling behind me like it was in on the joke.
The box was surprisingly light, and I debated "accidentally" leaving it on a bench halfway down the street.
But I didn’t. Because apparently, I was the guy who took care of things. Even things he didn’t want to take care of. I sighed and kept walking to my truck.
* * *
I debated leaving the package at the front counter. But no. I reminded myself to remain professional. I stepped inside Wolf and Whisk with the small brown box tucked under one arm.
I’d meant to hand it off and bolt. In and out. No big deal.
The warm scent of cinnamon and citrus hit me the moment I crossed the threshold. The wolves always used orange zest in something. It clung to the walls like sugar smoke.
The front bell jingled as I walked in, but nobody looked up at first. Then I heard James.
His laugh hit me like it always did. Bright and careless and just this side of wicked. I paused, involuntarily, like a deer in headlights.
He was somewhere near the espresso machine, joking with that sharp-tongued wolf Rowan while a customer waited nearby.
“Careful,” James was saying, flashing a smile that made two of the college girls at the table giggle. “If you praise me too much, I’ll get cocky and start demanding a crown.”
“You already act like royalty,” Rowan muttered, rolling his eyes.
The customer leaned on the counter and flirted back, giggling something about crowns and kings. And James? He winked.
I stood frozen, the box suddenly heavy in my hands.
That smile. That wink. The way James’s body angled just a little toward the customer, open, easy, smooth. Too smooth. My jaw clenched.
I shouldn’t care. He flirted with everyone. That was his thing. But I did care. And I hated that I did. The way my irritated and restless bear inside stirred.
My instincts flared with something sharp and territorial, something that whispered: mine.
Which was ridiculous. James wasn’t mine. He’d never be mine. Guys like him didn’t go for guys like me. And even if they did, I wasn’t doing this again.
Kellen could charm the fangs off a vampire and lie straight to your face while doing it. I’d spent five years tangled up in his games.
I was gaslit, cheated on, made to feel like I was the one being unreasonable for asking for honesty. And that smug, teasing tone James just used? It sounded way too familiar. Too practiced.
James caught sight of me then. His expression shifted. Not much, but I saw it. A flicker of surprise, quickly masked.
His hand shot up in a wave, and he jogged over, apron strings bouncing against his hip.
“Hey, Grumpy Bear.” His eyes sparkled as he stopped in front of me. “What brings you to our lair?”
I stared at him for a second too long before holding out the box.
“This got delivered to us by mistake,” I said. My voice was flat, even to my own ears. “Thought you’d want it.”
James blinked at the package like he’d forgotten what boxes were. Then he took it, his fingers brushing mine.
“Thanks,” he said, the usual humor a little dimmer now. “You could’ve just left it with the courier.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Guess I was in the area.”
It was a lie. I’d driven six blocks out of my way to drop this off. And now I wished I hadn’t.
Behind James, Rowan was watching. Cyrus, too. I didn’t like being watched. Didn’t like how they both seemed amused. Like they’d walked in on a scene they were very familiar with.
I stepped back. “Anyway. Gotta run. Stuff to do,” I said.
“Right,” James said, though he didn’t move. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes now. “See you around, Rafael.”
I nodded, turned, and walked out without looking back. But every step to the truck felt heavier than the last. Because the truth was, I did want to see James. I always did. Even when it pissed me off.
Even when it scraped at the scabbed-over parts of me that hadn’t fully healed.
I wanted to believe he was different from Kellen. That behind the flirty exterior and the smooth grin was someone who wouldn’t twist me up and leave me feeling like I was the broken one.
But today? Watching him work the room, seeing him flirt like it meant nothing? It made me wonder if I was being a silly fool again.
He was too easy with that smile. Too effortless with people. Charming. Gorgeous. Bright in a way I wasn’t sure I could ever be. And maybe that was the real problem.
My bear didn’t care about any of that. My bear liked James. Always perked up when he was near. Always sat up, hopeful, like maybe this time, we weren’t wrong.
Like maybe we deserved a little brightness too.
But I knew better. Guys like James got bored. They got curious. And then they got cruel when they didn’t get what they wanted fast enough.
“Get it together,” I muttered to myself, under my breath.
I was halfway to the truck, jaw tight, shoulders knotted up with tension, when I heard it.
“Rafael! Hey! Wait up!”
Dang it. I didn’t stop walking, but my boots slowed a step. His footsteps were light and fast, and a moment later, James jogged up beside me, breath puffing in the cold air.
“You forgot your phone,” he said, holding it out.
I frowned, patting my pockets like an idiot. Sure enough, it was missing. Crap.
“Thanks,” I muttered, reaching for it.
Just as I touched it, the screen lit up with a familiar name. Another missed call from Kellen. My chest tightened, breath catching. James’s gaze flicked down before I could hit the power button.
“Kellen,” he said quietly. “You gonna answer that?”
His voice wasn’t teasing anymore. Just… curious. Maybe even a little cautious.
My response came out sharper than I meant. “It’s none of your business.”
His expression shifted. The easy smirk, the light in his eyes both dimmed. “Right. Sorry.”
I cursed under my breath. “Wait.” I ran a hand down my face. “I didn’t mean—look, I’m just having a shitty day.”
James stood there, hands in the pockets of his jacket, watching me. His face wasn’t hurt exactly, but it was… guarded. Careful.
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said after a beat. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”
I tried to look away. “I haven’t—”
“Bullshit,” he said, arms crossing now. “Every time I walk into Bear and Bun, you glare at me like I kicked your favorite cat. Or you leave. Or pretend I don’t exist.”
I winced, teeth grinding. “It’s not you.”
“Sure feels like it’s me.”
The wind blew between us, sharp and cold, but it wasn’t what made me shiver. I sighed. “You remind me of someone else,” I explained.
His expression changed. Not surprised, exactly. But intrigued. “Someone bad?”
I nodded once. He shifted closer, enough that I could feel the hum of his wolf under his skin.
“Well,” he said softly, “I’m not whoever you’re thinking of. I’m me.”
I looked at him then, really looked. The way his hair curled a little over his ears. The way his mouth twitched like he wanted to say something light but held back.
His posture was open, but his eyes were wary. There was no cocky flirt in front of me now. No smooth-talking baker. Just a guy who, against all odds, seemed to care if I thought badly of him.
“I know,” I said. “I know you’re not him. But it’s hard to shake off the shit someone else drilled into you.”
He tilted his head. “So you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length because I smile too much?”
I rolled my eyes. “You flirt too much.”
“That’s just my face,” he deadpanned.
I couldn’t help it. A reluctant snort escaped me. He grinned at that. Not big. Just a small, crooked smile. One that twisted something in my chest.
God, he was trouble. Handsome, charming, persistent trouble. But right now, he wasn’t playing around. He was real. Solid.
And the way his energy wrapped around mine made something ancient in me stir.
And heck, he was gorgeous. His wolf practically hummed with attention, tuned to mine. Like he could feel something too. Something real.
“You really don’t like me, huh?” he asked, his voice quieter now, uncertain.
“I don’t know what I feel,” I admitted. “But I don’t hate you. I just—get confused when I’m around you.”
His brows lifted slightly, a flicker of hope in his expression. “So you do think about me?”
I groaned and turned toward the truck. “This is a mistake.”
He followed, voice lighter. “You’re a walking contradiction, Grumpy Bear. You storm in here like someone pissed in your honey, then act like I ran over your favorite plant when I try to talk to you.”
“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, but my lips twitched.
“Too late. Grumpy Bear fits,” James said.
I reached the truck and leaned against the door, exhaling hard. The tension in my chest still hadn’t gone away, but it’d shifted. Changed into something murkier, more complicated.
James stood beside me, hands still tucked in his jacket, eyes on me like he was seeing something no one else had before.
“You’re not as scary as you pretend to be,” he said.
“I’m not pretending.”
“You are,” he said simply. “You’re just guarding that big soft heart of yours with fangs and claws.”
I didn’t say anything. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.
At the truck, I hesitated. Part of me wanted to bolt, go back to the bakery and bury myself in work until I forgot this conversation ever happened.
But the other part, the part that hadn’t stopped thinking about his wonderful laugh, or the way he smelled like cinnamon and pine and home, stayed rooted to the spot.
“Thanks for the phone,” I said quietly.
James tilted his head, expression soft now. “You ever gonna stop running from me?”
I exhaled. “Maybe. But not today.”
His smile faded into something gentler. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Grumpy Bear.”
He winked.
I watched him walk away, his confident stride full of heat and swagger, like he didn’t even know the mess he was leaving me in.
My bear huffed inside me, not in anger. Something closer to longing. Not today, but maybe soon. And maybe that scared me more than anything.