"You look like you've seen a ghost," Skylar said. "Is everything all right? I mean, clearly it's not, so maybe a better question would be: what's wrong?"
Oakley gripped his phone so tightly he was afraid it would crack. He could just hear Arden calling his name, but couldn't bring himself to get back on the line. "It's my lov—friends. They somehow figured out where I am and came after me, but they're trapped because of the snow. Iskander is with them too, I think. I'd prefer they turn around, but I don't know how they could, even if I knew how to convince them."
"Oh, dear." Skylar took his phone and was talking to Arden even as he rose to go across the room to where his husband was chatting with a handful of wolves. The puppies who'd been piled on and around him on the sofa grumbled briefly, then reassembled into a new pile and went right back to sleep.
Oakley buried his face in his hands, worry and shame and utter misery filling him and spilling over, threatening to reduce him to tears or screaming or both.
He looked a few minutes later at the sound of footsteps and stared at Skylar. "I just seem to keep causing you problems."
"Helping people out of the snow is a pretty standard affair around here," Skylar said with a laugh. "It's such a common occurrence we have a rescue routine so down pat, they consider it just another boring chore. I'm surprised the guard didn't make a joke about it when you arrived. At least half their time in winter is spent on lost travelers; the other half on lost travelers who also have a car and companions stuck in the snow."
Oakley managed a laugh. "Now you mention it, he did say something about my story being more exciting than being the usual lost person." He rose. "Still, I feel like a heel, showing up and dumping twenty problems on your lap."
"Well, one of those was a problem we needed to know about, and the others are standard fare. Anyway…" Skylar laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. "It's my fault they're stuck. I was watching the news and realized who the friends you mentioned were, and got in touch to let them know you were here and safe, and they shouldn't continue to worry. So I apologize. Given that in their position Brady wouldn't have hesitated to come after me, I should have anticipated they'd do the same."
Oakley laughed weakly. That was one mystery solved. He should probably be angry Skylar had taken such initiative, but if he was going to be seeing Arden and Michi soon, no matter what the circumstances or that he'd rather they be safe back home, it was hard to complain. "I'm sure they'd have figured it out anyway, given Michi is a cop and Iskander a PI. Michi is good at his job, and from what little I've seen of Iskander, so is he."
"Well, sit and try to relax until they get here. Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, four at the most. I've got some things to do elsewhere in the building, but I uh, went ahead and added my number to your phone. Text or call if you need me—and don't hesitate to ask anyone here. You came here to help the pack, so we're more than happy to help you."
"I appreciate it," Oakley said.
Skylar smiled, gently touched his shoulder in a show of comfort, and departed.
Oakley got a fresh cup of coffee and then slipped away. Whatever Skylar said about the pack being happy to help him, he sensed he still should try to stay out of their way. So he took his coffee and found a quiet little nook down an empty hallway, curled up in it, and stared at the snow beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Seemed a foolish thing to have when the winters were this brutal, but then again, who could resist a chance at what must usually be a beautiful view?
He tried not to think about how easily a polar bear could go right through such glass, and without much in the way of damage to itself. There was nothing Oakley could do about it, though, except trust the wolves—which, granted, wasn't hard. They seemed almost eerily competent at what they did, but then again, that was exactly the kind of things wolf packs were known for.
Propping his feet up on a stool, feeling more than a touch guilty that he was relaxing so indolently while others worked, Oakley enjoyed the falling snow and tried not to worry himself to death while he waited for word.
He'd nearly dozed off again, despite everything, when a sudden burst of ruckus jerked him upright. Shouting. Distress. Sharply given orders. Abandoning his coffee, he hastened back to the lobby, where everything was in chaos—and there were weapons. A lot of weapons, though they didn't look like regular guns. The knives definitely looked authentic, though.
"What's going on?"
A nearby wolf glanced at him briefly before turning back to the boots he was lacing on. "That stupid fucking polar bear we've been hunting tailed after the rescue team. We got a mayday, so we're going out to deal with the bastard once and for all."
"Is everyone okay? Was anyone hurt? Killed?"
"Some injuries," Skylar said from behind him. "One minor, one moderately severe, nothing remotely fatal though. They're being brought back, along with your friends, and this team will capture or kill the polar bear. It'll be a little while yet, but despite the injuries, things are still going in our favor. Even a polar bear is no match for an entire pack of wolves."
Oakley blinked away tears. "I'm so sorry." Why did people keep getting hurt and dead because of him? At least no one was dead this time. He never would have been able to live with himself if someone had gotten killed trying to help him.
Damn it, running away should have fixed this, not made everything worse.
Skylar hugged him, and damned if he didn't smell like home—woodsmoke and fresh bread and something sweet, likely a treat for the kids.
"Thank you," Oakley said. "I'm going to owe you guys like ten thousand cupcakes before this is over."
"You vastly underestimate how many cupcakes a bunch of hungry wolves with sweet tooths can eat."
Oakley laughed. "Noted."
Skylar turned his attention to Brady, who'd gathered the other wolves together in the middle of the room in preparation to head out. "Be careful."
"Always," Brady said, and kissed him softly, smiling fondly as he drew away. "Don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone."
"Do my best."
Then they were gone, leaving Oakley and Skylar alone in the lobby. Skylar smiled at him, friendly but also, Oakley would swear, with a hint of mischief in it. Maybe he was losing his mind.
"Want to tag along while I check on the children?" Skylar asked. "They should all be asleep, but one never knows with wolf pups."
"Uh, sure. I'd love to meet your children. They always look so adorable in the few pictures you've allowed. I hope you're not too harassed about them."
"All the time," Skylar said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to plaster them everywhere, though, no matter what we're offered."
He led them through the building all the way to the back and up a set of stairs—and then outside into what proved not to be the miserable cold, though it was chilly, but a long hallway made of the same sturdy glass as the windows Oakley had admired earlier.
"We installed these last year," Skylar said. "They've made getting around in the winter much easier and safer. You'd be surprised how often even wolves get lost in the snow going from their house to the main lodge." He rolled his eyes. "Even Brady did it a couple years ago, though he'll deny deny deny."
"Do they connect to every house?"
"They connect to hubs, and each hub then has walkways to each house. Those aren't as fancily covered as these main ones. Each owner does what they want with theirs. It's made the whole place look a bit like a hamster cage, but everyone loves them."
"I bet."
As they reached the end of the hall, Skylar pulled out a key and unlocked the door. Beyond was a hallway made of lattice work, currently covered with special sheeting that kept out the worst of the cold.
From there, they spilled into the laundry room of a house that smelled like chili and fresh bread, making Oakley's stomach rumble. All that was missing was a freshly baked cake piled high with buttercream frosting and redolent in sprinkles.
He could hear the rumble of a generator coming from what was probably the back yard. Most, if not all, of the houses around here probably had backup generators, given how often the weather must knock the power out.
The itch to bake teased-torment him, but he ignored it. He'd already caused this poor pack, and Skylar, all kinds of hassle. He wasn't going to just invite himself into someone else's kitchen.
As they passed through the laundry room and kitchen into the living room, a trio of wolf pups came running-tumbling from the back of the house. Two of them were significantly bigger than the third, who was so small she probably couldn't shift yet.
Skylar immediately dropped to the ground and let them tackle him, laughing in delight and talking animatedly as they barked and licked and played. "Good puppies are supposed to be taking naps."
Oakley laughed and started to comment about children never doing as told, when he was caught by a sound that was sort of like a frog or something calling out. It was familiar, but why…
He followed it, utterly absorbed, and found himself in a room that was more like a life-sized terrarium, complete with pond. Some sort of greenhouse that had been added on? It didn't look like the rest of the house, stylistically. The room was stifling, clearly intended to mimic a different climate. At the edge of the little pond was a teensy alligator hatchling, it's black and yellow stripes standing out against the pale gray rock it was perched on. It was the source of the noise, and Oakley rolled his eyes at himself for not recognizing the sound: a hatchling calling for its mommy. He'd heard it a few times from Tadeo's many nieces, nephews, and so forth.
A soft hiss drew his attention, and he looked up to see the snake that had been wrapped around Skylar the previous day and earlier that morning.
The alligator started crying again, and Oakley was drawn helplessly back to it, unable to resist crouching by the edge of the pond to get a closer look and see if he couldn't figure out what was wrong.
To his astonishment, the alligator immediately darted toward him, fumbling-crawling up his jeans to sprawl across one of his thighs. Which were more than large enough to suit several baby alligators.
Oakley's heart gave a lurch as it settled right in and went to sleep. What a sweetheart. He reached out tentatively to touch it, stroking along the rough, slick skin.
Skylar hadn't mentioned they had an alligator child too. Had he? No, Oakley would have remembered that. Oakley tried not to be envious, but no one would even let him adopt a fellow trash panda at this point, let alone children outside his shifter species. What must it be like to be so trusted and respected—and influential—that you could adopt practically whatever children you wanted?
"I see you were charmed away by Katey."
Oakley startled, which earned him a grumpy noise from the alligator—Katey. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wander off and help myself to your house. I heard her crying and followed the sound without thinking." He moved to put her back by the pond, but she immediately started crying again, so he put her back in his lap. Like a switch had been flipped, she fell silent, flopped down, and went right back to sleep.
"Well, I guess we found her permanent home," Skylar said with a laugh. "We've had potential parents in and out all month, but she'd have nothing to do with any of them. You show up, and she's all cuddles."
"Really?" Oakley asked, cheeks flushing, chest aching with hope and the knowledge that hope was futile. All he'd ever wanted was his own cupcake shop and a house full of children. He should be content he'd achieved fifty percent.
But he'd give up his entire business and go back to cashiering in retail in a minute if it meant he got to keep Katey, who'd somehow stolen his heart in under ten seconds.
"She's wonderful. I hope she finds a good home," he said, hating the way his voice broke ever so slightly. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Sorry. I really do hope she finds a good home."
"Looks to me like she's found one."
"Don't," Oakley said, voice cracking again. "No one would ever grant me an adoption. It's not going to happen. Not with my family. Not with a murderer after me. Not with being a single, fat trash panda who makes cupcakes for a living, like some stereotype that tips into embarrassing caricature." Even though he was happy the way he was, and with the life he'd built, and it hurt no one.
Skylar sat next to him, the snake wound around his lower arm and looking quite pleased with herself, and smiled. "The battle isn't over yet, and you didn't have powerful connections before. You do now. If they'll give children to me, I'll make darn sure they give them to you. Anyway, at least one of those things isn't true. I'm pretty sure there are two lovers trying desperately to reach you."
Oakley laughed sourly. "We never even got far enough to be called lovers, and I was rather firmly dumped on my way here. So yeah, still single."
"Don't give up hope yet," Skylar said, and nudged against him. "I was a loner snake in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Everyone thought I was a crazy, still-feral copperhead. Then someone hoped I'd eat some puppies dumped on my land, and the only person I knew who could help me was my longtime crush who I thought always disliked me." He laughed sheepishly. "Now here we are. The world is strange, and that means almost anything can happen. Awww, I think she fell asleep."
Oakley looked down at his lap, where sure enough, Katey had gone from a light doze to dead to the world. He gently shifted her back to the pond and rose to his feet. Once Skylar had returned the snake to its tree, they headed back out to the living room, where Oakley wasn't remotely surprised to see three puppies equally fast asleep.
He helped Skylar get them in bed, and then gladly took the offered beer as they settled in the living room. "Dinner smells amazing."
"I wish I could take credit, but before I met Brady I lived on microwave meals and the food my mom loaded me up with. I'm terrible in a kitchen. Brady, though, he's amazing. The chili is his, and the bread."
"What's for dessert?"
Skylar laughed. "Of course that's what the baker wants to know. Ice cream, usually, or sometimes a cake or something we pick up at the store. But we haven't had a chance to run errands, so the cupboards are getting bare. Hopefully tomorrow."
"Well if you have the ingredients, I'm more than happy to make you dessert. It'll be a good warm up for tomorrow, when I bake apparently a hundred thousand for the pack."
Laughing again, Skylar winked and said, "Still underestimating werewolves."
Oakley laughed with him. "I'll do the best I can."
Skylar swept an arm toward the kitchen. "If you want to make cake, or cupcakes, or whatever, I'm not going to protest. My kitchen is your kitchen. You probably know more about it than me, frankly. I still resort to the microwave when Brady isn't around. If you want to bake, I'll go deal with my five thousand emails and voicemails and whatall else until the others get back."
"Sounds like a plan. I appreciate it. Baking will keep me distracted better than anything else." Oakley smiled faintly. "Well, except for maybe Katey. I admit I'd let my cupcakes burn for her, and we've barely even met."
Skylar smiled softly. "I know the feeling. You bake. I'll work. Before we know it, our loved ones will be home."
Oakley nodded and fled to the kitchen before he did something stupid, like hug Skylar or start bawling. Both.
In the kitchen, though, he found his footing. He wasn't good for much, but he could bake.
It only took a few minutes to take stock, after which he had three options for cupcakes to pick from: good old fashioned 'birthday cake', chocolate, or red velvet. If only all his problems were so simple.