“But ginger also has zing. That’s kind of its thing, zinginess,” Angela said, looking at Tucker like she wasn’t entirely sure who she was talking to. “They teach you this your first week at the CA, Tuck. What’s going on with you? These flavors are either way too overpowering, too savory or downright pedestrian. You know that’s not what we do here at Gateau. Are you okay? Is something going on that you’re not telling me about?”
“No! Of course not,” Tucker said a little too quickly and loudly judging by the way Angela winced at his reply.
“Oh…kay, well, why don’t you take a couple of days off and then we can talk again next Friday? Maybe I’ve been working you too hard. We’re not normally quite this busy in October, but last month was so successful that we’re swamped with orders.” Tucker nodded resignedly as Angela stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I know I’m your boss, but you know my door is always open if you want to talk, right?”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Ang. I’ll do better, I swear.” She nodded and walked back into the kitchen, leaving Tucker alone in the showroom, surrounded by five pieces of the worst cakes he’d made since he started baking professionally.
He was just starting to slump into his chair, feeling dejected, depressed and like maybe he should just throw in the towel when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Harvey that read: “Hey man, got any free time today? At a coffee shop right near Gateau and have some wedding ideas I want to shoot past you.”
Tucker audibly groaned at the idea of seeing Harvey, who was so stupidly happy all the time now that he and Anita were in wedding planning mode, but Angela had just dismissed him, and if he didn’t meet up with Harvey, he’d just go home and rage bake more macarons to leave on his neighbor’s doorstep. Marina always appreciated his baking, but she’d hinted to him that while his macarons were the best thing she’d ever tasted, it was hard for her and her six kids to get through 120 of the things each week. “The sugar, you know. It makes them a bit crazy,” she had told him last time he’d knocked on her door, his hands full with yet another Tupperware container full of the delicate French cookies. So, going home probably wasn’t the best idea.
---
Tucker followed the pin Harvey had dropped on Google Maps for him, winding his way through the streets of Portland which were lit up with a blinding sunshine that tinged all the trees he passed a shining gold. Tucker loved Portland, loved the rain, the wind, and the cold that blew through each winter, but he also loved days like this, when the world seemed golden and therefore somehow whole and perfect, even if he had just been told to take a vacation because he apparently sucked at his job now.
Passing Mt. Tabor Park, Tucker turned onto SE 82nd Avenue and walked past the myriad car dealers until he came upon what Google told him was his “destination.” Hunny Bee Bakery. Wait a second, wasn’t this where Hadley worked?
“I know what you’re thinking, but just hear me out,” Harvey said as he opened the coffee shop door. He stood in front of Tucker with his hands out in supplication, and Tucker didn’t miss the intoxicating smell of cinnamon and freshly baked rolls wafting from the open window to the right side of the door.
“You’ve been so miserable, Tuck, and I know why. I know you’re missing Hadley. You need to talk to her,” Harvey said.
“I can’t talk to her! She knows I’m a werewolf. She’s probably relieved to be rid of swine like me.”
At that, Harvey grew angry. “Hey! Don’t talk about yourself or our kind like that.” Taking a deep breath and calming himself down, he continued, “Look, I know it’s scary telling a woman you like what you are, but I did it with Anita, and look how we turned out!”
The jump Tucker’s heart would have given a month ago at the mere mention of Anita was no more; since meeting Hadley, he’d completely forgotten about his crush on Harvey’s fiancé; she wasn’t the woman for him. Hadley was. But she couldn’t be his. Not if she knew what he was. Right?
Reading Tucker’s mind, Harvey continued, “Just talk to her. Buy one of her cinnamon buns and a coffee and tell her how you feel. Worst comes to worst, at least you got a cinnamon bun out of it, right?”
Tucker smiled a bit at that, and nodded, following Harvey back into the coffee shop. The place was done up in dark wood with exposed rafters and 40’s jazz playing on the speakers. The long counter was lined with a huge display case showing off Hadley’s obvious baking prowess. Funfetti cookies, mocha swirls, banana bread and, of course, cinnamon buns in both traditional and s’mores flavors were lined up and ready for the taking. Tucker’s mouth watered at the smell of it all, and then he saw Hadley, and he forgot all about the baked goods.
Her curly blonde hair was tied back in a bun low on her neck, a black t-shirt adorning her torso underneath a black apron with the words “Hunny Bee Baker” emblazoned on it. Tucker couldn’t quite see her face thanks to the black baseball cap she wore over her hair, but he could still see her perfectly plump lips, her blue eyes surrounded by cute glasses and her creamy skin vividly in his mind. She was in her natural environment, bending down to place more cinnamon buns on a shelf, her hat momentarily shielding Tucker from view. But then she stood up and saw him, and dropped the tray in her hands, which was thankfully empty of any baked goods. Even though Tucker hadn’t yet tasted anything she baked, he’d seen enough to know that one of her cinnamon rolls or cookies dropped on the floor would be a goddamn national tragedy.
Chapter 7
Hadley prided herself on being a multi-tasker, which was why she was a bit confused when her body apparently stopped being able to breathe, stand and stare at the same time, though maybe that had something to do with the gorgeous man standing in front of her at the counter. Tucker. Tucker was here, at her workplace, looking at her like she was a steaming hot cinnamon bun he desperately wanted to devour. And she knew this because she was fairly certain she was giving him the exact same look.
There were circles under his eyes, and his hair was long past needing a cut, but he was still the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. In an army green t-shirt, blue jeans and desert boots, with his face scruffy and a tattoo she hadn’t noticed gracing his upper arm, he looked like every other white hetero cisgender male hipster in Portland. But she knew he wasn’t just one of the crowd.
No, Tucker Ponsonby was still the best person she had ever laid eyes on, despite the fact that he had torn her heart into a thousand little pieces that day in the closet. Hadley knew she needed to get over him, but how was she supposed to do that when he was standing right in front of her?
Hadley’s thoughts were interrupted by Tucker’s voice. “Hi,” he said, his voice rough and raspy as he breathed out the word. That voice had infected her dreams, been her constant companion these last few weeks, but hearing it in person again was like hearing the jingle of an ice cream truck on a hot summer’s day, pumping her up with excitement and anticipation in equal measure.
“What are you doing here?” she responded, because she was wondering and because if they went down the “hi, how are you” train, she’d never find out why this perfect man had decided she wasn’t worth sticking around for.
“That’d be my fault,” Harvey said, stepping from behind Tucker and coming to stand next to him at the counter. “I dragged him here against his will, but I think you both need to talk to each other. Tuck, be honest with her, and Hadley, cut my boy a little bit of slack. He means well, but I think we can both agree he fucked up.”
Tucker turned and glared at his friend with such ferocity that Hadley couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her mouth. Harvey put his hands up and backed away until he was standing in front of one of the tables at the back of the coffee shop. He shot Hadley a thumbs up and then took out his phone, scrolling and determinedly keeping his eyes away from the counter.
“What he said is true,” Tucker said, causing Hadley to look back at him and into his eyes. Mistake. She could get lost in those rich, amber-colored depths, the subtle shades of ora
nge flecking the unusual gold of his eyes. They made her want to leap over the counter and grab his face and lay a kiss on him so good he’d forget whatever his reasons were for leaving her, but Hadley resisted because that would only serve to make her feel even worse when they parted.
“What’s true?” she asked instead.
“That I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Hadley. I…is there somewhere we can talk, privately, and I can explain myself?” Tucker asked, looking around as though realizing for the first time that they were in a busy coffee shop at 2:30 on a weekday afternoon.
Hadley nodded mutely and gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen, which was thankfully deserted because all the other bakers were at lunch at the Chinese buffet down the road.
“Okay. Talk,” Hadley said as she came to stand by the counter where her bench scraper and lucky whisk lay. Having her tools nearby made her feel like she had the upper hand in the situation.
“So, first off, I want you to know that when I suddenly left the closet after what was, in my opinion, the greatest hookup in the history of humankind, it wasn’t because I didn’t like you. It was because I figured that after what Harvey had said, you wouldn’t like me.”
Hadley looked at Tucker in confusion. She’d been so full of lust when they were kissing that day that she had barely registered Tucker’s friend’s voice when he’d knocked on the linen closet door. She remembered him mentioning a speech, and something about wolves, but that was about it.
“Yeah, I don’t really remember what Harvey said. I was a bit preoccupied, you know,” Hadley told him, letting her cheeks blush freely at the memory of being wrapped in his arms.
“Wait, really?” Tucker asked like he couldn’t believe that she had been so distracted by his body that she might not have registered what was going on around them.
“Yes, really. Why, what did Harvey say?” At this, Tucker visibly squirmed, as though admitting what his friend said made him physically uncomfortable.
“He…he said I was a wolf. Well, to be perfectly honest, he called me “wolfbrain,” which is a nickname we use with each other, but…”
“But?” Hadley asked, itching for him to spit whatever he had to say out.
“I’m a werewolf, Hadley. That’s why he called me wolfbrain. Because I’m a werewolf. Always have been, always will be. And I figured that when you heard him say that, you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore, so, I booked it out of that closet to save me the heartbreak of seeing you reject me to my face.”
Hadley was quiet for a minute, but it wasn’t because she was deciding whether she wanted Tucker or not. No, she was quiet because she was contemplating just how dumb the male of the species, or in this case, the half-man half-wolf of the species, could be.
“So, let me get this straight. Rather than waiting for me to make up my own mind about whether or not I wanted to date you after finding out you’re a werewolf which, let’s review, I didn’t even register because I was so focused on having my body on your body, you ditched me in a linen closet and left me to eat a huge slice of that gorgeous wedding cake plus seven cupcakes by myself, thinking you had suddenly decided I wasn’t worth your time and that baked goods plus my cat would remain my only true loves.”
Tucker chuckled at that, but then his face returned to the serious mug he had been wearing since they first made eye contact over the counter at the front of the shop. “So, does this mean you don’t care that I’m a wolf?”
Hadley pushed herself off the counter she’d been leaning on and stalked toward Tucker, heat and hunger in her eyes. She grabbed his shirt in her fist and tugged him toward her. “Of course, it means that. I don’t care what you are, as long as you kiss me like you did the other day for as long as we’re together. As long as you touch me with the reverence and respect I deserve, and as long as you tell me what the hell you put in that blood orange buttercream.”
Tucker smiled and folded Hadley into his arms until they were nose-to-nose, her looking up as he looked down at her with a love so strong it scared her as much as it excited her. “I’ll tell you that if you’ll give me a kiss.”
“Deal,” she breathed, and then her lips were once again on his, and it was even better than before.
Chapter 8
Tucker could feel his cock straining against his jeans as he and Hadley biked to her house. The pressure of the bike seat on his crotch did little to lessen the downstairs situation, but Hadley had assured him that her apartment was only a ten-minute bike ride away, so he knew that relief would come soon.
What seemed an interminable amount of time later, but was really only about three minutes, Hadley was leading him to the sidewalk just outside of her building.
“Hanging in there?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with telltale mischief as she eyed his cock.
“Let’s just get up to your apartment as soon as humanly possible” Tucker grunted as he parked his city bike. Hadley snorted as she locked her bike on the rack outside her building and then took his hand, leading him to her apartment which, hallelujah, was on the first floor.
“I really want to have slow, meaningful sex with you, but I think we might need a quickie first, because I’m going to be honest, Tucker, I’ve been wanting you every minute of these last few weeks,” Hadley breathed into his ear, her back against her front door, her breasts pressing up against his chest. He could feel her nipples tighten against him and then, he was kissing her, because there was nothing else to do. Kisses on her sweet, sweet lips turned to kisses tracing down her neck as she turned around to open the door, which they both promptly fell through, and then they were crawling onto the couch, leaving articles of clothing in their wake.
Off came Tucker’s shirt and jeans, followed by his boots, leaving him only in the black boxer briefs he’d slipped on after changing out of his chef’s whites earlier that day. He preferred to bake commando, but freeballing it with jeans was a recipe for disaster he didn’t want to follow.
Hadley’s hands were all over him, kissing his stomach, gliding down his thighs, rubbing against his cock, but she wasn’t undressed, and that was just wrong.
“Hands off, woman. No touching until were in an equal state of undress,” Tucker said as he lifted Hadley’s hands off him. She looked down where she was crouched on the couch cushion and laughed. “Ha. Yeah, got a little excited. Give me two seconds,” and then her t-shirt was coming off, and her black jeans, and her converse, and then she was in just her bra and lace boyshorts so tight on her ass that Tucker nearly shed a tear in appreciation of whatever fine seamstress had crafted those beautiful examples of understated lingerie.
Hadley’s breasts were round and lifted in her push-up bra, two enticing globes of creamy pale flesh Tucker just knew would pop out of their cage to fit perfectly in his large, calloused palms. Her stomach was soft, her waist curved, and Tucker couldn’t help the growl that escaped him when he realized that she was his, all his.
“Fuck, Hadley. You’re even better than I imagined,” he said as he crawled toward and lifted her onto his lap, her knees straddling his thighs.
“You’ve imagined me?” she whispered against his lips, the tips of her eyelashes tickling his cheeks as she spoke.
“A thousand times. I couldn’t get you out of my head if I tried. I’ve relived those minutes in the closet so many times they’re practically burned into my brain.”
“That makes two of us,” Hadley said, and then suddenly she was grinding against him and Tucker lost all trace of reasonable thought at the sensation of her delicious wetness caressing his hard steel through the fabric of their underwear. He reached his hands up and unsnapped her bra, and another growl stole from his mouth as he felt the weight of her tits come down onto his chest, her nipples tight and swollen and tickling his chest hairs. This, this was pure bliss.
But it lasted only a moment before Hadley was peeling back the gusset of her panties and hooking her index and middle finger into Tucker’s boxer briefs, readying herself fo
r the next phase of their lovemaking. “I’m going to slide myself onto you now, okay?” Tucker nodded mutely, his hands reaching back down to grip Hadley’s hips as she set his cock free from the cotton that had been trapping it and placed it at her entrance.
The movement of her sliding down onto him, burying herself to the hilt, was enough to make Tucker come right there and then, but while he wanted a quickie, he didn’t want it to be quite that quick, so he focused not on the sensation of Hayley on top of him, riding his cock, but on the look of her as she did so. The bounce of her breasts, the long line of her neck as she tilted her head back, her mouth open in a blissful “o” as she rose and fell over him again and again in a time-honored rhythm.
Tucker leaned in to capture one of Hadley’s nipples in his lips, gently biting it, knowing from his previous, albeit brief, introduction to Hayley’s breasts that she was sensitive as hell there, but he wasn’t expecting her to come. Wasn’t expecting her cunt to clench his member, her skin to flush a deep rose as she twitched on his cock, riding her orgasm out until she collapsed on top of him, spent and satiated.
All it took was a few thrusts on his part, and then he was right there with her, letting the bliss override his system, holding his woman in his arms. Because she was his. This had solidified it. Hadley was inextricably and irrevocably his. And once they’d gotten their energy back, they were going to do this again, and again, and then, when they had finally exhausted themselves, he’d teach her his buttercream recipe.
Chapter 9
Eleven months later.
“This is such a cliché, but I love it,” Hadley said, admiring the “bun in the oven” apron that Tucker had just given her, which was white with a big cinnamon bun with a diaper screen-printed on it. They were having lunch at one of their favorite vegan eateries in Portland, a huge bowl of nachos and two virgin margaritas in front of them because Tucker was the best boyfriend/future father ever and was eschewing alcohol in solidarity with her.
The Baby Shift- Oregon Page 3
