Page 36 of Wrong Number, Right Gray Wolf

“Look at the buildings lit up. They’re so pretty.” Posy had her face pressed on the window. “Daddy, that’s a red light. You have to stop.”

My mate and I shared a glance. “Thank you, darling.”

“Daddy, that man wants to cross the street.” Posy pointed out a guy waiting at the pedestrian crossing. “Don’t hit him.”

My mate pulled up in front of a tiny bakery that was still open. But as we got out of the car, the place went dark.

“What? No.” Posy raced to the front door and read the “closed” sign.

“It’s supposed to open 24/7.” Clyde joined her, and I stood to his right. The three of us cupped our hands around our eyes and peered into the shop.

He raced around to the back door with Posy and me at his heels and knocked. The door opened, and my mate said he’ll double or triple the price if we can buy all their custard tarts.

“I’m so sorry,” the owner said. “We sold the last one ten minutes ago.”

Posy took my arm as a sob escaped me.

“But come back in the morning and I’ll have plenty.”

We thanked him and walked back to the car. But I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Damn these pregnancy hormones.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Clyde took my hand, and Posy leaned over the seat and gave me a kiss.

“I think I’m a little homesick and a custard tart just means home, being comfortable and safe.” I turned to face my mate and daughter. “Not that you aren’t my family and you are all of those things.”

“Do you fancy an hour’s drive to your skulk?” Clyde kissed my palm. “Tomorrow or rather today is Saturday.

Our daughter voted yes, saying there was no work or school.

“But that’s a little bonkers, driving an hour and expecting my grandmother to bake for me.” But I so wanted to do it. “And besides, Gran won’t be awake at this hour.”

Clyde checked the time and said by the time we got there it’d be light. My fox sighed and told me my mate was one in a million. But he also wanted to spend time in the skulk.

“Let’s go.” Posy yawned and was asleep on the back seat five minutes later.

I drifted off too, and Clyde placed a hand on my lap, letting me know he was always at my side.

“Hey, sweetheart, we’re here.”

I awoke with a start. My passenger door was open, but my mate was standing back on the sidewalk. Faces peered at me. Gran, my folks, aunts, uncles, and cousins were all here. Posy was already playing in my family’s front garden with my cousins’ kids.

“I hear you’re having cravings.” Strong hands helped me out of the car.

“You don’t have to bake just for me, Gran.”

Posy leaned over the fence and piped up. “You should eat your breakfast first, Papa, before you have your special treat.”

Everyone laughed, and Gran said we could ignore that rule just this once. Posy asked if that applied to her chocolate, and my family chorused, “No.”

We sat on the back porch while Gran and others baked.

“Thank you.” I pulled Clyde down for a kiss. “Family plus my favorite baked treat plus you and our daughter. This is the best morning.”

And when they were done, Gran brought them out on a tray. There were satiny fillings of eggy custard that didn’t need to be chewed because it slid down your throat. The tops were caramel brown, and I anticipated putting them in my mouth and enjoying that burnt-sugar taste that contrasted with the custard.

I sniffed, and we toasted the occasion with a tart. Clyde told me it was worth the drive and even he might wake up with a craving for creamy custard tart.