“Oh. My. God.” Penny’s voice cut through my daze as he materialized at my side, a bubble tea in each hand. You will not believe the gossip I just heard… uh, Leo… you’re doing it again. The chocolate thing.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Sorry. Let’s go.”
I felt a prickle on the back of my neck and glanced back to find Mr. Steele observing our departure, his expression unreadable.
4
Iwas exhausted.
All last night, my mind whirled with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. On top of being restless over the revitalization plans and the vandalism, when I did finally fall asleep, my dreams were haunted by a certain silver-eyed alpha. The man was threatening everything I held dear, yet my omega instincts hummed with dangerous interest every time those steel-gray eyes locked onto mine. By dawn, dark circles had carved themselves under my eyes, and now my tongue tasted bitter from too many cups of coffee.
My fingers traced familiar patterns across worn leather, the steady rhythm of repair work a balm for my scattered thoughts. The brass bell above the door chimed throughout the day and a parade of shoes crossed my workbench—Mrs. Henderson’s orthopedic shoes needed new insoles. Mr. Gates’ work boots required resoling. A teenager’s beloved sneakers earned fresh laces and cleaned canvas. Each stitch and polish anchored me to the present, away from silver-eyed distractions.
The wall clock ticked past eleven. I flipped the “OPEN” sign and gathered my tools, tucking each into its proper place. Keys jingled as I stepped outside into the morning sun.
“There’s my favorite cobbler.” Penny leaned against the brick wall beside my door, sipping on what was probably his third bubble tea of the day. “Ready for some scheming?”
I twisted the key in the lock, testing the handle twice—an old habit I’d never bothered to attempt to break. “Scheming implies we’re up to no good.”
“Oh honey, I’m always up to no good.”
As Penny and I approached Wilson’s vandalized storefront, my heart ached at the sight of the broken windows and angry red graffiti.
Rosie stood in the doorway, her usually cheerful face drawn with worry. Her eyes lit up when she saw us.
“Oh, Leo, Penny! You’re angels, both of you,” she exclaimed, pulling us into a hug.
“We’re here to help however we can,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Just tell us what you need.”
For the next couple of hours, we worked tirelessly. Shards of glass tinkled against my dustpan like bitter wind chimes as I swept up what remained of the broken storefront window. Penny attacked the red spray paint with a wire brush, hispink hair falling into his eyes as he muttered curses under his breath. The scent of bleach burned my nostrils, mixing with the sweetness of the strawberry tarts that Rosie brought out to thank us for our help.
“Here, you two need fuel to work,” she said as she sat the tray on the counter. Penny and I accepted the offering, grabbing two of the sugary pastries each.
The bell above the door chimed and Mr. Gates from the hardware store entered.
“I’ll tackle that replacement window right away, Mrs. Rosie,” he said. “If I can get it in place this afternoon, I should be able to finish the signage by this time tomorrow.”
“That sounds perfect,” Rosie said, before offering Mr. Gates a strawberry tart.
One by one, our neighbors filtered in, armed with mops, brooms, and determination to lend a hand in any way they could. Mrs. Henderson from the flower shop arrived with a bucket of cleaning supplies. Behind her, the Martinez twins carried fresh rolls of paper towels.
“Chemical fumes giving anyone else a headache?” I rubbed my temples. The harsh cleaning products stung my sensitive omega nose. A gust of crisp air swept in as I propped the bakery door open with a worn brick.
“Here, let me get the back door too.” Penny darted through the scattered crowd, his pink hair bouncing. “Cross breeze will clear this out in no time.”
A knock at the door frame drew our attention.
Minnie stepped through, balancing a silver tray laden with coffee and croissants from her own shop.
“Room for one more?” she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
I watched Rosie’s face flicker with surprise before she broke into a bright smile. Her hands fluttered to her apron. “Of course, so glad you could come!”
She bustled forward and relieved Minnie of the gleaming tray, placing the offering on the freshly polished counter beside what remained of her strawberry tarts.
“Who would’ve thought?” Penny whispered, elbowing me. “The queen of fancy pastries, slumming it with us common folk.”
“Hush.” But I couldn’t help smiling as Minnie rolled up her silk sleeves and grabbed a sponge.
