Page 81 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

“That’s what I like to see,” Rowen said, scanning the list.

Business had become something of a partnership over the past year. Rowen baked. Milo brewed. Between the two of them, half the town insisted they were solely responsible for surviving flu season with Rowen’s cough syrup candies and Milo’s fever reducers.

Rowen looked to the list, then to the crates. “You brought it all in one trip? This has got to weigh a metric fuck-ton,” he said, eyeing the stack.

“Maybe for you,” Grievance said shortly. “I had no issue.”

Milo didn’t miss the way he crossed his arms, his sleeveless vest doing everything to show off those mouthwatering biceps.

Rowen looked at Grievance, and Milo wasn’t sure if there was some sort of alpha moment happening, but after a second, the tension dissipated, and Rowen nodded.

“I respect that.” Then he returned his attention to Milo. “You have your eye-candy muscle. And I have mine— hey, babe! You mind taking these to the back for me while I ring up the customers?” Rowen called behind him to the kitchen.

What Milo didn’t expect when Rowen called for his eye-candy muscle was the most petite blonde woman to dance from the back, wearing a thirties-inspired bubblegum-pink polka-dot dress, her bright blonde hair curled in a perfect bob.

“You got it, sweetie!” she said, reaching for the crates.

“Perhaps I should take them,” Grievance began, leaning over to help, but before he could, she seized the stack with inhuman speed, carrying them as easily as she would a purse.

“I’ve got it, hot-stuff.” Then she winked, flashing a pair of sharp fangs before disappearing into the kitchen. Milo got the distinct impression that she could probably throw a refrigerator. With one hand.

When Sadie was out of sight, Rowen clutched at his chest, falling back against the counter in an exaggerated swoon. “Ah. I’m in love. Vampires are so hot.” His eyes fell just behind them. “Did you bring a goat into my bakery?”

“It’s field-trip day,” Milo said. “She wanted to show off her new sweater.”

“Well, it’s adorable. Also, get out before she eats my tablecloths,” Rowen said, and Milo quickly redirected Marigold’s attention from the checkered tablecloth currently being used by two tourists enjoying their coffee.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Milo said, taking the pouch of coins from Rowen. “Pleasure doing business,” he said, trying for that charisma Rowen channeled so easily.

“Same to you, Brooke. You take care and—” Rowen turned his attention to Grievance, who hadn’t stopped glaring the entire time. “You keep on being your happy, sunshine self, alright, big guy?”

Grievance bristled, lip pulling back in a snarl. “The fuck is that supposed to mean⁠—”

“We’re leaving. Bye, Rowen!” Milo said, dragging Grievance with one hand and pulling Marigold’s leash with another.

Milo hurried his problematic little family down the street, and didn’t slow until they were well beyond the bakery, ducking into a narrow alcove between two crooked storefronts.

Bundles of dried cornstalks leaned against the walls beside pots overflowing with golden and burgundy chrysanthemums, while stacked pumpkins waited to be arranged for the festival. It was just far enough from the main road to escape the steady stream of shoppers.

“Lanterns,” he groaned. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“You better be talking to the goat,” Grievance hissed, still pissy.

“Babe, I love you, but you gotta cool it with Rowen. He’s with that pretty vampire lady.”

“Still don’t like the way he smiles at my mate. It’s rude.”

At the sound of that, some of Milo’s irritation melted away. He took Grievance’s hand until his fiery Chimera looked at him, those flecks of peridot sparkling in a pool of caramel brown.

“You should know by now, you have nothing to worry about.”

Grievance’s shoulders eased. “I know.” He squeezed Milo’s hand. “Maybe I enjoy worrying.”

“I think you enjoy pouting.”

Grievance frowned. “I do not pout.”

“You absolutely pout. You’re pouting right now!” Milo said, pointing at the hard set of Grievance’s mouth.