Page 12 of Hungry As Her Python

Tall, broad, chiseled like a Greek god who’d traded the toga for a Deputy’s badge and biceps that could bench press my bakery’s industrial ovens.

The man had hero written all over him, right down to the jawline that could cut glass.

Meanwhile, I was Bella Strega—curvy, cake-powered, and owner of the only bakery in Castor’s Corner that could double as a crime scene thanks to recent firebug activity.

So yeah, you can see how the math didn’t exactly add up in my head.

I had no idea what a guy like him saw when he looked at me—and honestly?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. Not if the answer was that I was just a for now kind of girl.

Especially with both my girls finding their happy endings with their mates.

Oh my Gaia, please no.

Not if I had to learn that he was only in it for the kicks, the giggles, and maybe a few late-night rolls in the sheets before moving on to someone with less frosting on her fingers.

Because here’s the thing.

I’d already invested my heart.

I hadn’t meant to. I’d tried so hard not to. But somewhere between his stupidly protective streak, the way he called me Sugar like it meant something, and the memory of how he kissed like sin itself, I’d gone and handed over pieces of myself I couldn’t take back.

And I knew better.

Like my Nana always said, it’s better to end things before they start—less sweeping to do after the glass shatters.

Chapter Three-Conrad

I slouched back in my chair at the Sheriff’s office, spinning a pen between my fingers while staring at the stack of paperwork I had zero intention of finishing today.

My brain wasn’t here—not even close.

It was about five blocks away, in a warm, sugary-smelling little bakery where the woman I wanted more than my next breath was probably up to her elbows in flour, frosting, and finding new and creative ways to avoid me.

Bella.

My Bella.

The only woman on Earth who could make a Python Shifter like me feel like an awkward teenager again.

She wasn’t just beautiful—though, Goddess help me, she was stunning—she was mine.

My fated mate.

My other half.

My home.

Only she wouldn’t admit it.

Her laugh haunted me.

Her scent—sweet sugar, vanilla extract, and rainbow sprinkles, plus a little something that reminded me of the moment before a summer storm—wrapped around my senses until my Snake wanted to coil up and never let her go.

The way her curves fit against me when I’d had the chance to hold her was burned into my memory like a brand.

And yet nothing.