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Avery appears, his face marked by concern. “Are you alright?” he asks, scanning me.
“My hands are in dough, and I’m kneading away my worries. I’m all good,” I reply, my smile widening. “Did you find our angry alpha?” I ask him, knowing my reactions are off in the back of my mind. My heat is probably just days away.
“No, but I totally caught his bitter scent all the way to the curb. Someone scooped him up,” Avery says, punctuating his words with another yawn. He grabs my coffee cup, guzzling half in one go, then sets it down, pulling a face. “Is this even coffee?”
“Rutt roh.” Violet’s voice is playful yet teasing, her hands deftly pulling pastries from the oven. “Looks like someone’s gearing up for their heat.”
At that, Avery’s head whips around to me. He has this wild, almost caveman-like glint in his eyes for a second, as if he’s ready to hoist me over his shoulder and bolt out of the bakery. Part of me wishes he would.
His gaze flicks to Violet. “Where’s your delta?”
Violet snorts, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Zero?” His name comes out more of a growl than a word. There’s definitely a juicy story there I’m itching to hear. “He passed out in the hallway. I should have left his drunk ass there, but I didn’t.”
Avery winces, shaking his head. “Need me to handle it?”
“Oh, hell no. I hog-tied him to my toilet,” Violet declares with a wicked smirk. “In his boxers. Can’t wait to see his face when he wakes up.”
I just stare, momentarily speechless. My crazy friend is totally my spirit animal.
“How the hell...” Avery starts chuckling before trailing off.
“He’s a heavy motherfucker too,” Violet adds, scooping muffin batter into tins with a sly smile.
Suddenly, static cuts through the bakery, silencing the radio’s music. I plop my dough on the scale, weighing out perfect rounds for sweet rolls.
“We interrupt this morning’s playlist with an announcement.”
“Is that Sawyer?” I glance at Violet, who’s now glaring at the radio.
“Yeah,” she drawls.
Avery pinches off a small piece of dough, popping it into his mouth. He chews the raw dough as if it’s fully baked. I don’t blame him, raw dough is the best.
Static crackles through the radio again, drawing our attention back. Sawyer’s voice cuts through, serious yet tinged with her usual dry humor.“Central Terra is in for a blizzard starting at two this afternoon. The heaviest snowfall is expected overnight and into tomorrow. Prepare for major delays and a city-wide shutdown for the next couple of weeks. We’re looking at over three feet of snow, and come Friday night, another storm’s adding another foot to that.”She pauses, and even her humorless chuckle sounds foreboding.“Better hit the grocery store, folks. We’re all about to be snowed in.”The music resumes, echoing through the bakery.
I pause, my fingers buried in the dough. I give it a squish before absentmindedly rolling out more balls. My brother mentioned snow was coming, but this?
Within two minutes of Sawyer’s broadcast, chaos erupts. Every phone in the place starts ringing off the hook—the bakery line, my cell, Avery’s, even Violet’s.
“Get the bakery line,” Avery says, already pulling out his phone to answer a call.
“I’m on it. Hands are clean,” Violet chimes in, snatching the receiver off the wall.
Their voices drop to murmurs. I wipe my hands on my apron and grab my own phone. Unknown caller.
“Hello?” I swipe to answer, drifting toward the window to gaze outside. The sky’s a blanket of light, endless white. Is it weird that I’m kind of excited about the snow?
“Hello?” I repeat, trying to focus on the call.
Just breathing on the other end. I pull the phone away, confused. The call is still connected. I cautiously glance at Violet and Avery, who are both deep in their own conversations.
“Hello?” I repeat, his time with an edge of sass.
Click. The line goes dead. I dismiss it as a scam, slipping my phone back into my pocket, and wander over to Avery. He’s just finishing his call.
“All hell’s breaking loose,” he says, snagging another piece of dough from my pile and tossing it into his mouth. “That was Dev.”
“And?” I grab a towel, cleaning my hands thoroughly. A gut feeling tells me we might not even open today, and if we do, it’ll be to sell out everything we have.
