17. Donuts mean I love you
DONUTS MEAN I LOVE YOU
yay! gus’s wolf friend and the magic lady
have finally figured it out!
good. gus wants to be deputy gus again.
— gus
“What was that?” I ask when I recover from the shock of the howl sending shivers straight down my spine. “I thought you didn’t have wild wolves in Moonburrow!”
“We don’t,” Honey says.
“Shifters do that? They howl?” Beneath the sleeves of my blouse, my arms erupt with goosebumps. I rub my bicep, gaping at Honey and Roxy. “Is that it? They turn into their wolves, prowl around town, and scare the bejeezus out of the rest of us?”
Honey purses her lips while Roxy leans back on her hands, shaking her head while trying her best to hide her amused smirk.
I glance behind me at the closed door, wondering if it’s thick enough when Honey clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her.
“So… do you want the honest answer or one that’ll make you feel better about an alpha wolf confessing you’re his mate?”
Oh, Goddess. “Are you telling me that Riordan made that noise?”
“If Deputy Licky-My-Balls finally decided to admit you’re his mate like we’ve known all along, then… yeah. That was probably him.”
I turn to Honey. “Honest answer,” I tell her, though the frightened witch I’ll always be deep down inside squeaks: lie to me, make me feel better, oh my Goddess. I ignore that little voice, firming my own as I add, “Please. I need to know.”
Honey exchanges another look with Roxy. “They howl when they’re upset. Sometimes when they’re calling for their pack or their mate. Most of the time, it’s something they do with their mate.”
“He’s calling me?”
“I would say that he is.”
“If anyone here would know, it’s you, Lobo.” Roxy nudges Honey in the ankle with the tip of her boot. “Come on. Tell us. You make the sheriff howl like that, Honey?”
Honey turns pink.
Roxy grins. “Ash doesn’t howl. He’s an opossum. But, oh, do I make him scream.”
Honey casts her eyes toward the ceiling. “Haven’t I told you a hundred times that I’d rather not hear about my cousin’s mating habits?”
I would laugh if another howl didn’t roll through the night, even closer than before.
It’s different when I know it’s him. Still eerie. Still enough to wake every instinct inside of me that remembers teeth and claws and a wolf who tried to pin me beneath it, never understanding that I was screaming no in return.
But it’s Riordan, and that changes everything.
He’s outside of the bakery because I told him I needed to get away from him, to think, and despite everything inside of him that probably wants to come crashing through the door and drag me back to his side, he’s giving it to me.
Oh. He still has this innate desire, this wolfish instinct that says he needs to be by his mate at all times, but he’s trying.
That matters.
So does the fact that, in so many ways, I was already choosing him before I knew there was a choice to make.
Hell, I was jealous of his mate before I knew it was me.
Somewhere in between trying to solve a murder and going on a treasure hunt, I fell for Riordan, and only my pride at being the last one to know had me walking away when every nerve in my body was singing stay.
I didn’t, and until I sat down with Honey, Roxy, and Gus to drown my sorrows in cookie dough, I was waffling on my decision.
Then the shifters helped me understand why, to me, this was a massive betrayal, but Riordan was just being careful.
Like he told me, he didn’t lie because he didn’t want me, but because he wanted me too much.
And because he does, after managing to stay away for about an hour-and-a-half, he’s finally admitted that he can’t do it any longer.
How do I know?
A knock sounds on the back door, purposeful yet somehow restrained.
If we went upstairs with the cookie dough, I don’t even know if I would have heard it.
It was Roxy who was too impatient. She grabbed a spoon, some of the sugar cookie dough, and made herself at home in the bakery kitchen instead of the apartment over our heads.
Now? Her smirk returns as she hops to her feet. “Look at that. Seems like Fate’s working overtime tonight.”
She grabs the bowl, tucking it under her arm.
For some reason, she walks over to the cabinet and uses her other hand to grab a big container of salt.
Honey lets her do it, patting her thigh and whistling at Gus.
The opossum climbs up her leg, settling himself on her shoulder before she walks over to the door.
She glances over her shoulder at me. “You want me to tell him to go away? ‘Cause I can do that.”
Gus squeaks in agreement.
I think about it. I always kind of knew that I would have to face Riordan again sooner or later.
If I’m being honest with myself, I thought he would’ve flagged me down long before now.
I could send him away, but all that will happen is that he’ll wait outside the door, just like he does almost every morning after he sneaks out of the bakery, then waits to return at nine.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”
Honey nods, then unlocks the door, tugging it inward. My breath catches my throat as Riordan takes a few uneasy, anxious steps inside, so unlike the normally suave, smooth wolf shifter I’ve come to know (and love) that I’m stunned.
Roxy whistles under her breath. Honey hisses at her to hush.
I clutch my hands together in front of my chest.
His hair is a mess. His silk shirt is uncharacteristically wrinkled, and his eyes are too bright, his wolf much closer to the surface than usual. In his shaky hands, he’s holding a pink bakery box.
I swallow roughly. “Riordan? What.. what are you doing here?”
His shifter’s eyes flash, shining brighter than the fluorescent lights we turned on in the kitchen. “Nothing can keep me from you, my sweet witch, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”
Honey and Roxy exchange a look.
Gus squirms until Honey lowers him to the floor. He dashes over to Riordan. Rising up on his back legs, he lifts his right paw, shaking it at the wolf shifter while chittering in a way that can only be described as chiding.
Shifting the box to one hand, Riordan rubs the back of his neck, making sure to look down at Gus. “Yeah. I know. I messed up.” A quick glance over to me. “Again. But this time, I’m not walking away with my tail between my legs. I’m here to talk to my mate, if she’ll let me.”
The opossum sniffs.
Really. He sniffs, not like he’s trying to catch a scent, but because he’s slightly mollified by how Riordan is careful not to use his dominance against either of us.
As for me... how can I say no? After everything Honey and Roxy told me about shifters and what they referred to as their ‘mating dance’, it would be cruel to send him away.
Especially since he came bearing food.
Food… ah, Hecate, how could I have been so oblivious?
From the moment I offered him a donut on the way to visit the coven house our first day investigating together, he’s done everything he can to feed me in return.
From accepting Honey’s treats so that he gave them to me to all of the breakfasts and the lunches and the dinners together…
in shifter culture, especially when it comes to the predators, feeding is a sign of love and affection and a promise that they can be a provider.
All along, he’s been telling me he loves me and I… I had no idea.
Until now.
And that really does change everything.
I move toward him, gesturing at the box. “Is that for me?”
His lips twitch, his expression almost hopeful.
“I know how much you like donuts. They’re not as good as Honey’s”—Honey makes a sound of agreement before yipping as though realizing that she shouldn’t interfere at such a pivotal moment—“but they were the only shop open. It took me three tries to find a donut shop before I found one. But I got them for you.”
“Because nothing says ‘I love you’ like donuts,” I say softly.
Riordan’s eyes flash. “Pen…”
“Okay,” announces Honey. “Girls’ night is officially over. Roxy? Bring my bowl and my spoon back when you’re done. Gus? We’re heading home. Riordan? Just… don’t destroy the kitchen, okay? I’ve gotta open up early tomorrow so, yeah. Use the apartment.”
Use the apartment? For what?
Roxy snickers into her bicep. Gus is back on Honey’s shoulder, using his tail wrapped around her neck for support as he rises up, waving with one paw.
Almost mimicking her sidekick, she lifts her hand, saying, “Good luck,” in a very obvious stage whisper before the opossum shifter, the raccoon shifter, the wild opossum, the bowl of cookie dough, and the salt disappear out through the back door.
It locks behind them like it always does, leaving Riordan and me completely alone.
I dare a peek into his eyes. I see the hunger there, the desire, and the need, and, yeah… I’m pretty sure I know exactly what Honey meant by that now.
Maybe I already knew what was going to happen was inevitable. It doesn’t matter. Before Riordan says anything, I take his hand. He looks at me in surprise, but when I drag him toward the stairs, heading to the apartment, he doesn’t try to stop me at all.
I don’t lead him to the living room. Not the kitchen, either. We go straight to the bedroom. Once there, I take the box of donuts from his suddenly lax grip, set them on my dresser, and move so that I’m standing right in front of him.
“So…”
Before I can say another word, he cuts me off with another hasty, “I’m sorry.”
I frown. I figured the donuts were the apology, and the rest could wait. But… “This again?”
“Yeah. But it’s important.” He shakes his head, frustrated with himself. “I apologized before, but I kept explaining why I did it like that made it better. It doesn’t.”
That gets my attention.
“I should’ve told you the moment I knew what you were to me—”
“You should’ve.”
“And I—”