Homemade Kisses (Myrtlewood Inn #1)

Chapter 1

June

“Worst day ever.” Demarien Watts downed the last of his whiskey and slammed his glass on the table, startling his three best friends. “Did it really have to rain? All month, there’s no rain, but today it just had to pour.”

The rain pounded against the glass panes of the windows of the bar. It was only early afternoon, and Portland was bustling with the late lunch crowd, umbrellas and raincoats included.

Milo sipped his drink, dark eyes dull with grief. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“Fucking cancer is fucking stupid,” Puck muttered. Demarien’s friend wore his usual scowl, his blond hair pulled into a loose bun atop his head. Puck raised his hand and signaled the bar for another round. “Dahlia deserved better than that.”

Milo nodded, trembling. “I always thought she’d go down swimming with sharks in Australia or something.”

Felix sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “I thought she’d go out exploring Antarctica. You know how she felt about polar bears. She would have tried to adopt one and gotten eaten.”

Puck snorted. “Polar bears don’t live in Antarctica. There are just penguins.”

Felix gasped, eyes widening. “She should have gotten eaten by penguins. That would have been a death worthy of her.”

Milo smiled reluctantly and laughed. “She would have liked dying by penguin.”

Demarien wrapped his arm around Milo’s shoulder. They had all loved Milo’s great-aunt, but his friend had always had a special relationship with Dahlia. She had taken care of Milo for most of his life.

“Did you see my dad?” Milo asked, face growing hard. “He talked on the phone for half the ceremony. I almost turned around to thank him when he finally stopped.”

Felix leaned across the table and grinned. “You were hugging Demarien, so you didn’t see Puck take his phone and throw it toward the back of the room. One of Dahlia’s book club friends caught it, then glared at Alonzo as she stomped on it.”

“It was a little scary but really hot.” Puck took his new drink from their server. “I think I’m in love with her.”

Demarien chuckled. “Mrs. Holliday’s husband may object.”

Puck shrugged. “It’s okay. We can be a throuple.”

Milo smiled again, and Demarien let out a small breath of relief. He hated seeing Milo sad. His friend had even eaten some of the cheese sticks they ordered, and Milo never ate junk food. He was a health nut.

Milo’s parents had been shit while he was growing up, so he stayed with Dahlia in Myrtlewood Bay for most of his childhood.

His aunt was extremely wealthy, so Milo’s dad, Alonzo, had wanted to ingratiate himself with her.

Demarien didn’t understand why Alonzo thought abandoning his son with Dahlia would impress her.

“I know what you all are doing,” Milo said, rubbing his hands through his styled hair. “I’ll be okay. I promise. I know you all loved her, too.”

Puck swallowed hard and looked away. “She was family. My foster families didn’t give a damn about me, but she did. She tried to adopt me, you know.”

Milo smiled softly. “I know. Your mom wouldn’t sign over her rights.”

Puck had spent his childhood bouncing between foster care and his mom. He had spent more time with Demarien, Milo, and Felix’s families than he had with his own.

Demarien sighed. “I don’t know what we would have done without her.

Dad worked so much and never had any time off to spend with me.

Dahlia stepped up and helped. She and Abuela taught me how to cook, and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

” He smiled and fiddled with the frayed friendship bracelet on his wrist. “I remember Dahlia telling me that the key to cooking was to follow your heart. Recipes were only suggestions.”

Milo leaned his head on Demarien’s shoulder. “She left the family cookbooks to you.”

Demarien blinked away his tears. The box of cookbooks had arrived at his apartment yesterday. Generations of the Toro family had added their own recipes to the books, and Dahlia had decided to give those to him. The spicy Italian woman completely owned his heart.

Felix wiped his eyes again. “I hate even thinking about it, but when it’s her time, I think Abuela will leave the Montenegro family cookbooks to you, too, Demarien. She’s given up on teaching me how to cook.”

Demarien snorted. “You set her kitchen on fire trying to make tortillas. Tortillas, Felix.”

Felix smiled. “She said my dad was just as bad.”

Felix’s grandmother had raised him when his parents died. Felix had been ten and heartbroken. Abuela had taken him in and done her best, but the woman had spent almost as much time working as Demarien’s dad had.

Demarien raised his drink. “Dahlia was our badass auntie, and we’ll never find another like her.”

“To Dahlia,” Felix said, holding his own glass up. “She bought me my first toolbox.”

Milo smiled and raised his glass. “She also installed a furnace in the old lighthouse so you could learn how to blow glass. She bought you a glory hole, Felix. Say it aloud. I dare you.”

They laughed as Felix blushed.

“That’s what they call the opening on the furnace,” Felix muttered, dark eyes darting around the room, likely to make sure no one heard Milo.

Puck chuckled and raised his glass. “She loved us. There’s nothing better that you can give a person than that.”

“That’s the truth,” Milo said as they clicked their glasses together, then guzzled their drinks.

Demarien was already starting to get sleepy. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, so he always needed a nap after drinking anything stronger than his normal beer.

Today was a hard liquor day, he thought, holding back a sigh.

“I’m sorry we didn’t do anything for your birthday, Puck,” Milo said, wincing. “With the funeral and everything, I completely forgot.”

Puck shrugged. “So did I. Who wants to remember turning thirty anyway?”

Felix punched Puck’s arm. “You’re the youngest. We all had to go through the obligatory jokes and birthday song, so you should too.”

Demarien brushed his twist braids back off his face and propped his chin on his fist. “Remember when we were fifteen, and that big storm hit? We all stayed with Dahlia and Milo.”

Milo laughed. “Puck was so scared, and Felix wanted to go play in the rain.”

Puck scowled. “I wasn’t scared. I was very reasonable and didn’t think it was smart to go play in lightning.”

Felix hugged Puck. “It’s okay, man. Everyone is afraid sometimes.”

“I wasn’t afraid,” Puck mumbled, crossing his arms as his face settled into a pout.

Demarien shook his head. “Dahlia tried to distract Puck by making us play a game. We each wrote down what we wanted most. She said that the only way we’d ever get what we wanted was to know what we wanted.”

Puck tilted his head, eyes narrowed in thought. “Then she read them out, one by one, and we had to guess who they belonged to.”

Milo grinned. “I remember now. I still want what I did then. My own business, two perfect children, and a stay-at-home alpha.” He rubbed his chin. “Of course, now I’d also like my alpha to be a masseuse and have a sizable dick.”

Demarien laughed with the others. “I could go with an alpha like that, too.”

“I was surprised at yours,” Puck said, kicking Demarien under the table. “You didn’t say anything about kids. You wanted your own restaurant and Boone Harding.”

Demarien grinned. “The two necessities to being happy. Damn, Boone was my dream alpha. The handsome valedictorian of the senior class, who still managed to have a heart of gold.”

“You love kids,” Milo said, frowning.

“Now,” Demarien said, snorting. “At the time, my cousin Rochelle was staying the summer with us, and she was an annoying ten-year-old. It was enough to traumatize a poor, innocent omega.”

Puck smirked. “You would have wanted kids if they were with Boone Harding.”

Demarien nodded. “I would have given up my fictional restaurant to have Boone Harding.”

Milo flicked his ear. “Thankfully, he graduated and moved away before you ended up pregnant at fifteen. I would have had to force him to marry you, then tortured him for the rest of his life.”

Demarien rolled his eyes. “As if he even noticed my existence. Anyway, I can’t remember Puck and Felix’s wishes.”

Felix smiled sadly. “I wished for a family of my own. Ten kids and a good alpha.”

“I only wanted one kid and a quiet, unassuming alpha,” Puck said, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Hot sex at night and perfect silence during the day.”

Demarien exchanged looks with Milo and Felix. “That’s a little creepy, Puck. Are you going to keep your kid and alpha locked up during the day?”

Puck gave him an unconcerned look and waved away the question. “Damn, I really wanted a family of my own, too. Besides you all, I’ve never had that. It doesn’t matter, though, does it? None of us has what we wanted. No alphas, no kids, and we all hate our jobs.”

“I don’t hate mine,” Felix said with a shrug. “You all, though, I pity you.”

Demarien groaned. “Don’t remind me of Gaston’s. The things that man makes me do to food are tragic.”

“I hate working at the hotel.” Milo’s head fell back as he groaned.

“Your boss is an incompetent asshole who takes credit for your ideas,” Demarien growled. “Maybe Mrs. Holliday could take care of him.”

Puck grinned. “Can we send her after my boss too, and, more importantly, can I watch?”

Milo rolled his eyes. “Maybe we, the grown-ass adults, could take care of our own problems.” He paused a moment, giving Puck a sympathetic look. “Though I have to admit Mr. Derringer really is a piece of work.”

Demarien nodded. Puck’s boss at the warehouse where he worked was known for sexually harassing the omegas that worked for him. No one had managed to report him successfully yet.

Felix made a thoughtful noise, leaning a little to the side. “I have an idea. We can all take care of each other’s problems so no one can trace it back to us.”

Puck laughed and nudged Felix with his shoulder. “You’re a little too Strangers on a Train, buddy. No more drinks for you.”