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"All right, sleepyhead, wakey wakey!" Kayla said.
A flat motel pillow landed on Matt's face. He threw it off and sat up, glowering at Kayla. "Has anyone told you lately that you're—"
"Wonderful?" she said, batting her eyelashes. She wore a bright pink long-sleeved shirt underneath a short-sleeved tee bearing an illustration of a unicorn with a rainbow coming out of its ass.
Too much color. Too much happy.
"Coffee," Matt muttered. "I need coffee if I'm going to be around you."
After getting ready and checking out of the hotel, Matt pointed the SUV toward Osprey Road and the Ring of Fire, home to the Rock Creek Clan. They hadn't gone one mile through downtown Helene before Kayla gave the kind of high-decibel squeal he'd associate with two-year-olds or piglets.
"Look at that shop!" she said. "We have to stop there."
"No."
"Yes, we do. This place wasn't here when we were in the RCC. It's new and exciting!"
"Don't care."
She pointed at his motel coffee, a free offering from the dinky check-in office. "This coffee is shit, and you know it. Their coffee is going to be wonderful."
"It's a cupcake shop, not a coffee shop."
"Pull over. There's a parking spot right in front."
As Matt did as she asked, he started to think maybe he wasn't quite as dominant of a shifter as he'd once thought. He climbed out of the car, but Kayla still hadn't moved.
"Aren't you coming?" he asked.
"If I go in, I'll come out with twenty-five cupcakes. I have no willpower when it comes to sweets, and then I get headaches from all the sugar, and then I'm horrible to my friends."
He looked at her and sighed. "What flavor do you want?"
"Surprise me?" She widened her brown eyes at him.
Hanging out with Kayla was like having a demanding puppy. All excitement and want-want-want. Matt wished again that he was doing this trip to the RCC alone. But once Kayla had found out about it, there was no talking her down. In the end, Bronson had said Matt should go forward with the plan because Kayla's presence would be distracting and convincing, and Sloan, the fucking dickhole, had agreed.
Bells chimed over the door to the cupcake shop. The scents of chocolate, vanilla, and brown sugar filled Matt's nostrils. He gave the place a quick glance. Five small tables, an old hardwood floor, large framed photos of local vistas on the walls. A long counter spanned the rear of the shop, full of colorful cupcakes and other pastries. A blond woman stood behind the counter wearing a pink t-shirt with silver writing emblazoned on it and a waist apron with some kind of pattern. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and her blue eyes looked tired. She was frowning. He took that as a challenge.
"Hi," he said, giving her his most charming smile.
"What can I get for you?"
Her voice was low and melodic and made him think of chocolate icing for some reason. Must have been all the cupcakes in the display case.
But he noticed she didn't smile.
He leaned against the counter. "I'd like a regular coffee. And which cupcake is your favorite?"
She looked at him. Her blue eyes were almost gray. "I don't have a favorite cupcake."
"For fox sake," he said, chuckling at the pun that was the name of the shop, "you work here, don't you? You've got to have a favorite."
"No, I don't."
"You don't work here?" He leaned back on his heels, hoping she'd notice his muscles, his body. He wasn't shy about it. As a mountain lion shifter, he was lean but powerful, everything well-defined. The woman in front of him was fit, too, so surely she'd appreciate his physique.
She turned around, ignoring him as she poured some coffee. He frowned. Did nothing work on her?
She brought the coffee back to the counter next to the cash register and placed it in front of him. "Are you getting anything else, or just the coffee?"
He glanced over at the cupcakes, wondering which one Kayla would like. They were cupcakes, dammit—it wasn't like there could be a bad one, right? "Uh, sure you don't have any recommendations? Do you like chocolate icing?"
"No."
He could smell the lie, which delighted him, but at the same time, why wasn't she interested? There was no ring on her fourth finger, although he supposed she could be in a long-term relationship. Or maybe she didn't like dudes, or maybe she didn't like anyone.
From the grouchy look in her eyes, he suspected she didn't like anyone, but he wanted to rule out a boyfriend first. He stepped all the way up to the counter and subtly inhaled.
Her eyes widened, mirroring his surprise. She was a shifter, and she'd scented him, too.
He tried to figure out what her animal was. Then he realized. Pointing at the writing on her t-shirt, he chuckled. "You're a fox."
She nodded. "And you're some kind of cat."
"Mountain lion, yeah."
"So what kind of cupcake do you want?" she asked, her voice still low, still melodic, and still as disinterested in him as ever.
He had so many questions, though. He'd bet his left nut that she was in the Rock Creek Clan, which meant she had to have joined after he left. Did she know Asshole Jake? More importantly, was Asshole Jake still around? Matt hoped to hell he wasn't—that guy was the worst.
"Cupcake?" she prodded.
"Yes, dear?" he answered.
She growled. He didn't think she intended it to be sexy, but it really was.
"You can just go," she said. "Take the coffee and get out of here."
"Wow," he said. "You're like a cranky old lady in a hot chick's body."
She pointed at the door. "Out."
He took the coffee and set a ten-dollar bill on the counter. "Can I get a chocolate cupcake?"
"If I give you one, will you leave faster?"
Loathing seemed to be leeching out of her and into the air around them. She hated him—she really, truly hated him. How was that possible? He was charming, he had always been responsible with money, he never left dirty clothes on the floor, and every other heterosexual woman he'd met—well, other than Kayla, who was a special case because they were practically siblings—had wanted to see him without his clothes on.
It made absolutely no sense.
He thought of turning around and leaving. But if he went back to the car without a cupcake, Kayla would complain until he came back for one. And as much as he enjoyed looking at this beautiful woman in front of him, he had a feeling she was ready to claw his eyes out.
"Yes, I'll leave as soon as you give me the cupcake," he said, holding up his hands in a "no harm" gesture.
Did her gaze flick to his biceps, or had he imagined that?
She took a chocolate iced cupcake from the case and set it carefully into a pink box that had little orange foxes stamped on the sides. Then she set it on top of the glass counter and nudged it toward him.
"Thanks," he said. "I guess I'll see you later."
She furrowed her eyebrows and looked like she was about to ask him what he was talking about, but he quickly spun around and walked out of the shop. He felt his shoulders pull back with pride. Nothing like having the last word.
He got into the car and handed Kayla her cupcake, then took a sip of the coffee. It was perfect—way better than the swill they'd given out at the hotel.
"See? Told ya," Kayla said, delicately opening up her cupcake box.
Ignoring her gloating, he asked, "Are you still too scared, or are you ready to be a big kid and go see Jameson now?"
She lifted up her cupcake and took a giant bite. Around it, she said, "I'm scared, but I'm ready. I'm eating my fear."