Page 10 of Fake It ’Til You Mate It

Betsy takes the bag from my hand, careful not to get too close to the wolf, Declan. Once she cradles it to her chest, she waves in thanks, then bolts to the door.

One last chirp from Betsy—“Bye, Honey!”—and the bunny goes hopping away, leaving me and one of Moonburrow’s big, bad wolves all alone.

Too bad it’s not the one the other half of my soul is interested in… though from the way his lips quirk, revealing the points of his canines, I’m not so sure that I can’t say the same for this wolf.

“Honey? Is that your name or do you and Betsy have something going on?”

Not that it would be any of his business if we did, but— “It’s my name.”

“Pretty name.”

I shrug. “I’ve always liked it.”

Grandma Jean suggested the name. She saw the patch of golden blonde hair that I was born with and, a baker through and through, gave me a name from one of the most used items in her pantry. Since Mom was too picky to come up with a name on her own, and Dad’s laidback enough that he just wanted a healthy pup, Grandma Jean won out and my honest-to-Fate’s name was given as Honey.

Declan offers me a crooked grin. “Pretty girl, too.”

My stomach lurches. Ugh. True, I’m unmated at the moment, but tell that to my inner opossum screeching that this wolf is not my mate and shouldn’t be hitting on me like this unless he wants his Alpha to show him what his intestines look like⁠—

And, yup, that right there is why I can’t let the sheriff know what I know until I’m one hundred percent sure I can handle a predator.

Since I can’t, and rejecting the wolf in front of me might be just as bad as losing control and throwing a day-old roll in his face, I move away from the bread and closer to the register.

“What can I get for you?”

The pleasant tone combined with the earnest yet clear ‘not interested’ smile does its job. He chuckles under his breath, realizing that his smooth moves won’t work on me, then casts his gaze over the display case.

“I don’t know. It all looks so delicious. What do you suggest?”

All of it because I put love, sweat, and sugar into every morsel?

“The scones are pretty good. Oh, I sell a ton of these cheese danishes. The cherry hand pies. I have croissants, almond, chocolate, and plain. Any of that sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll take ten.”

I blink. Lounging on his flour throne, Gus lifts his head, sensing my confusion. He turns his beady gaze on Declan, decides he’s just a customer, and instead of moving to stand next to me like he did when the sheriff was here, he goes right back to sleep.

Lucky.

Declan is waiting for me to stay something.

Right.

“Um. Okay. Ten of which one exactly?”

“All of the ones you mentioned.”

Oh. “That will be sixty baked goods.”

Declan pulls his wallet out of his back pocket. “That’s right. You take card?”

I bob my head, a stunned nod. Sixty items in one go that’s not a catering order is new for me. “Yeah, but⁠—”

He tosses a card onto the counter. “We’re having a pack council meeting tonight. At least fifteen wolves will be there. Now that I think of it, can we add a cake? You do cakes, right?”

“I have a vanilla chiffon cake in the back fridge and a chocolate cake, too⁠—”

He laughs, the sound more like a bark than anything else since there isn’t actually any humor in it. “No chocolate, thanks. Us wolves can eat a lot, but that stuff doesn’t sit well.”