Hunted (Mate Rejected #7)

1. Aerin

1

AERIN

“ T hree different ice cream flavors would be greedy, wouldn’t it?” I eye the ice cream through the glass chiller refrigerator longingly.

I’ve already tossed a pint of chocolate in my shopping cart. The salted caramel followed, and now, the mint and chocolate chip is proving to be a temptation that I’m having serious difficulties passing up, even though it’s not even midday yet and I had a big breakfast with Mack this morning.

“There’s no such thing as too much ice cream, Aerin. Move out of the way.” Penny, my shopping companion this morning, gives me a gentle nudge.

I step aside, smiling faintly as she tosses two tubs of mint and chocolate chip into our shopping carts, eyes the chiller thoughtfully, then snags two of the pistachio as well.

She catches me looking and shrugs. “What? Pregnant women have urges.”

I bounce my gaze between my pregnant belly and her flat stomach. She’s wearing a pretty hot pink maxi dress that should clash with her long, copper red hair, but it works. “So, what’s your excuse?”

She grins at me. “Why not? We only live once, right?”

We’ve been in the store for thirty minutes, and even though I’m in a baggy white pair of linen drawstring pants, flat sandals and an oversized blue button up, which are some of the comfiest clothes I own, my lower back and my ankles are reminding me that it’s time I put my feet up.

Penny’s favorite place in the world is the baking aisle in the Winter Lake grocery store. The diner, across the street, has become my favorite place since my pregnancy cravings for anything sweet have kicked up a gear. So now we combine our loves.

I do some grocery shopping with Penny, and once we’re through, we pack up our cars and head across the street to indulge in burgers, fries, and chocolate shakes so thick that when you stick a straw in it, it stands up.

It’s our weekly indulgence.

“Can we swing by the fresh baked goods?” Penny asks.

I can guess why.

“They’ll be sold out, Pen.”

Penny, for all her easygoing cheerfulness and big smiles, loves to bake, but she’s incredibly insecure about not being good enough. A lot of that goes back to a former partner who liked to make himself big by making her feel small.

After she narrowly missed out on winning a baking competition because of nepotism by the judge, Colton, her mate, convinced her to speak to the grocery store manager about stocking some of her home-baked cakes.

Penny didn’t believe he would be interested, and if he was, then her cakes would sit on the shelves gathering dust because the grocery store manager was only stocking them to be nice. He didn’t actually believe anyone would buy one of her cakes.

We’ve all tasted Penny’s cakes. Anyone would bite her arm off to taste them.

She’s that good.

She makes her green eyes big. “But they might not. And I’d just like to check since we’re here.”

“How many did you bake?”

She shifts from foot to foot as she glances toward the end of the aisle. Her excitement is so palpable, I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile.

“Ten.”

I stick my hand out. “I will bet you one thick, chocolate milkshake that not only are all those cakes sold out, the grocery store manager will beg you to make more the second he realizes you’re in the store.”

Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t yet.

“Do you think?” her expression is hopeful.

“I know so.” Before I met Mack and settled in Winter Lake, I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I was the Alpha’s daughter, so I knew no one would be cruel to me for fear of getting on my dad’s bad side, but I’m also an omega, and we don’t fit in the shifter hierarchy the way alphas, betas, deltas, and gammas do.

So I drifted around with no real close friendships or relationships.

Until I met my abusive fated mate, Shane Dacre.

That… did not end well. Months later, I’m on the path to healing from the mate I rejected.

I fit in Winter Lake better than I ever have anywhere, and to be the one reassuring, comforting, and making my pack—my new family—feel like they’re worth all the love, success, and happiness they deserve is a feeling I will never get tired of.

I smile and grip my shopping cart. “Come on. Grab your cart and let’s check out those empty shelves.”

On the way, we smile and nod at the locals. I haven’t met everyone yet, and I don’t know all of their names, but I’m getting to know more with every trip I make into town.

We’re turning toward the freshly baked goods section of the store when a white door swings open and a man in a dark gray suit bursts out. He points at Penny.

“ You !”

Other customers halt their shopping, lingering in the aisle to find out what this is all about.

Penny just freezes, her hands tightening around her shopping cart. “Me?”

“What did you put in your cakes?” Mr. Costa, the grocery store manager, demands.

I smile because I can see where this is going.

“Uh—” Penny darts a nervous glance at him, then at me, “—a lot of ingredients it would take me too long to list out. Why?”

The door slams shut behind him as he approaches, his severe expression melting away and a smile taking its place. “My wife ordered me not to come home until I have the recipe. Or at least another of those lemon chiffon cakes I surprised her with. Jessica’s birthday is coming up, and she said it was the best cake she ever tasted.”

Penny beams. “ Really ? That’s amazing.”

“The best cake tasting part,” I say with a smile. “Not the part where you’re now homeless.”

The manager laughs. “Of course. I’ve been speaking to corporate. They’ve seen how fast your cakes have been flying out, and they want to know if you have the resources to scale up.”

I look at the three shelves in the baked goods section of the store.

The empty shelves. So does Penny.

“Scale up?” she asks, her voice rising.

“Maybe a hundred cakes at first, and then potentially more. We have stores across the country.”

Penny’s breathing is speeding up and her eyes are widening. “The entire country?” she squeaks.

“Is it possible?” he asks. “Can you make it happen, Penny?”

I take in Penny’s glazed eyes and smile at the manager. “How about you give her some time to think about it? This might be a little too much excitement for her to process right now.”

I never thought I’d see the day Penny would be the overwhelmed one. She’s usually the one doing the overwhelming.

The manager must see what I see, which is Penny rapidly descending into shock, because he nods as he retreats a step, giving her room to breathe. “Of course. Take your time.”

He returns to the room beyond the white door as Penny and I study the empty cake stand.

“That was full yesterday,” she says quietly. “I know because I helped put them out.”

“Yep. Which means you owe me a chocolate milkshake.”

Minutes later, we’ve checked out, loaded up our cars, and have settled into our usual booth in the diner across the road from the grocery store.

Penny is still pink cheeked, her green eyes bright, and I think she’s going to be this happy for the rest of the week. I hope so.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised, Pen. Your cakes are incredible.” I pick up my easily won chocolate milkshake and take a long sip from my straw, wincing when I pay for it with a serious case of brain freeze.

From Penny’s furrowed forehead, she’s thinking hard.

“What?” I put down my glass and pick up my menu. I don’t know why I even bother looking at the menu. I always order the same thing.

A car slows to a crawl just outside and I turn to see why. It’s a navy Hyundai slowly driving past. Maybe a tourist looking for the hotel? My gaze briefly connects with the driver, a man in his early twenties with shoulder length light brown hair and cobalt blue eyes.

I’m used to seeing hikers who come to Winter Lake for the quiet forests, or white-haired couples drawn to the retirement town with its pretty pastel Mom & Pop stores.

“You’re really good at this,” Penny says, distracting me from the man outside.

“Good at what?” I shake off the unease that he was staring right at me, breathing out a sigh of relief when he continues down the main road toward the hotel.

“Being that L word,” she says quietly, her lips barely moving.

The diner isn’t that busy yet since we’re here for an early 11 a.m. lunch, but we don’t talk about shifters or anything that we wouldn’t want any of the human inhabitants of this retirement town to know. Namely, that they have a shifter pack living in their midst.

I assume the L word Penny means is Luna. The female leader of the pack. It’s a role I never expected to step into, want, or enjoy so much.

I shake my head, denying it. “I’m just doing what I would have liked someone to do for me growing up.”

My mom died shortly after giving birth to me. If she’d lived, she would have been the Luna of the Boone Pack. She’d have led the pack alongside my dad and served as the maternal leader in the pack.

Penny’s smile grows. “That must be why, then. You know exactly what it’s like and you know exactly what we need.”

Growing up, I’ve been neglected, ignored, and treated like I didn’t belong. If there is anything I could do to stop anyone feeling the way I did, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I motion at the menu to hide my embarrassment and my pleasure. “What are you ordering?”

“Salad.”

I raise my eyebrow.

She rolls her eyes. “Burger, of course, with onion rings and bacon, and I will enjoy every bit of grease and crave even more of it.”

I lift my chocolate milkshake to toast what sounds like an excellent idea. “And pie for dessert?”

She chinks her glass with mine. “What is a trip to the diner without pie?”