Page 47 of The Alpha and the Baker

Ah. If I had to hazard a guess, I was pretty sure I was now facing down several members of the Ramirez pack.

All this over some baked goods?

“No, not sponsoring,” I corrected. “I’m competing. With the McCallisters.”

I noticed that a good number of the group stiffened, but to his credit, their mouthpiece didn’t so much as bat an eye.

“There are some things you don’t know about that family,” the man hedged. “Perhaps it would be better for your business if you sat this one out.”

He trailed his finger along the top of my glass case. I couldn’t help but feel like I was in some sort of mob shakedown. Except I wasn’t a bootlegger, nor did I run a speakeasy. I was just a baker helping my boyfriend with the sugary situation he’d gotten into.

“No, I’m all right, thank you.”

He took a step toward me, hands still in his pockets. “I appreciate that you think you’re fine, but trust me, this shit is bigger than you and some cakes. It really would be better if you backed out with grace.”

I rolled my eyes, over all the bravado. I had too much to do on my busiest day of the week to be bothered by whatever failed shakedown was going on.

“What, you mean like them being shifters? Been there, learned that.” I couldn’t lie, I really enjoyed the way all their eyes went wide.

Except one of them didn’t take the surprise well and lurched forward, his face beginning to shift and distend, his teeth growing longer, his muzzle lengthening, and fur beginning to grow down from his hairline.

It was fascinating. I’d gotten to see a lot of very light pre-shifting, as the teens had called it, during my smaller dinner with Cas’s family, but none of them had progressed so far into the transformation.

But, like so many things in my life, there was a time and a place for such things, and the front of my bakery wasn’t a place for shifters to gallivant around.

“You stop that,” I said, reacting without thinking by grabbing the spray bottle I kept behind the counter to clean my display case and spritzing the shifter in the face. “You put your face right before you give one of my lovely regulars a heart attack when they come in for their scones!”

Ill advised, that was for certain, and yet it seemed to be the right thing to do. The man was so surprised that his face zipped back to normal like some sort of reversed time lapse.

Why had I sprayed him in the face?

Their leader broke the silence, his laughter suddenly filling the air. It took a few more beats, but eventually everyone except the shifter I’d sprayed joined in.

“It’s not funny,” he grumbled, crossing his massive arms.

“Actually, it is pretty funny,” another countered. “She sprayed you like a cat on the counter!”

God, I really had. Between dating a shifter and super-soaking one, I was beginning to wonder about my survival instincts.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” their leader said, cutting off any follow-up the sprayed shifter had. “I thought you were a human who got tricked into a situation bigger than yourself. But if you know what’s what, then all’s fair in love and war.”

“And baking,” I added, relaxing a bit. The guy could be lying, but I didn’t get that vibe off him.

“I’m Salvador, but you can call me Sal. I believe I’m your competition for the bake-off.”

“You’re competing against me,” I said, feeling far more brazen than I probably should. “But it’s not guaranteed that you’ll be actual competition.”

Another laugh out of him. “Oh, I see. Is that how it is?”

“That’s how it is.”

“This stuff does look good,” another shifter said.

“You bet your ass it does. And my name is Felicia, by the way. It’ll be good for you to know it when I’m beating the brakes off you in the bake-off.”

“So much confidence,” Sal half-taunted, his posture becoming relaxed enough that he leaned on my counter. “You really that good?”

“No, I’m that great ,” I countered. Was I laying it on a little thick?

Yes. But I figured I deserved it. After all, a group of seven shifters had just invaded my bakery, thinking they could scare me into backing out of the competition.

Besides, I was protective of Cas, even though he definitely didn’t need much protecting.

“Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?” Sal asked casually. “My niece’s quinceanera is this Friday. I’d like to hire you to bake a cake for us. Something with a lot of layers and one of those edible pictures printed on it. How much would that run me?”

“I can get you some quotes depending on what you want,” I said cautiously, “but you’re not going to buy me off. I’ll bake you the absolutely best cake I can and still beat your ass in the bake-off.”

He grinned at me. “Is that any way to talk to a customer?”

“It’s the way I’m gonna talk to you.”

“No wonder she knows the McCallisters are wolves,” one of the youngest piped up. “She probably ordered all those pansies to go fetch.”

“Don’t talk about them that way,” I said quickly, and Sal clicked his tongue.

“Apologize, mijo. We are guests in Senorita Felicia’s business. Be polite.”

“But—”

“Apologize, Dante.”

Dante looked like he didn’t want to, but that didn’t seem to matter. Sal was probably the alpha of the rival pack I’d heard so little about. It seemed like I’d defused the situation, but that begged the question: How much trouble had I been in? And was I out of the woods yet?

“I’m sorry. The McCallisters are… nice. I’m sure.”

“Thanks, Dante,” I said before turning my attention to Sal again. “If you and your friends want to have a seat, I can pull out my binder, and we can put together something lovely for your niece.”

“Yeah, let’s do that. And everybody get something to eat. I know you animals are probably starving.” He gave me a wink that I was sure charmed many women. “I’ll take one of those everything bagel breakfast sandwiches. With bacon.”

“Coming right up. I’ll make it fresh for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

That was how I ended up sitting at a table with Sal and Javier, who I guessed was his beta, while the other four men sat at another and demolished a dozen donuts and a dozen bagels.

The process of putting together the order took a lot longer than I would have preferred because I had to help other customers who stepped in, but such was the way with Sundays.

If those customers thought anything of all the strapping men crowding my small shop, they didn’t mention it. Some paused, but that was about it.

Salvador never complained. He just sat back, took a bite of his bagel or a sip of his coffee, or ordered something new to munch on.

Honestly, shifters were great customers with their sizable appetite.

I’d already earned more off the seven of them than more than a dozen humans, and we still weren’t done.

We finished over an hour later, and I was honestly exhausted.

Never in a million years did I think my financial woes could be cured by shifters, but with the strange alpha deciding on two different specialty cakes, I would be able to keep my head well above water.

One of the cakes would have multiple layers of churro-inspired cream filling and a printed picture topper, the other would alternate between mango compote and passionfruit custard between layers of vanilla cake with a citrusy Ermine buttercream and a generous dusting of tajin on the edges.

Apparently, his niece was wild about tajin on basically every fruit in existence, so I was tickled pink to make something so completely unique for her.

That was the whole reason I got into baking in the first place.

“You know,” he said as he paid his bill—the deposit for the cakes and delivery as well as the dozen donuts, dozen bagels, half a dozen scones, three breakfast sandwiches, two muffins, and three loaves of bread they ordered to take home.

It was definitely difficult not to have dollar signs in my eyes as I rang it all up.

Man, I loved Sundays. “You do well with this party, I’ve got a big family with a lot of big events coming up.

Parties that need cakes and cookies. We’ll focus on all the other stuff. ”

“I would be more than happy to bake anything your family needs,” I said, grinning. And boy did I mean it. “But like I said, you can’t buy me off.”

“Ain’t got no intention of that. Right now, I want to see what I’m up against. And if you turn out to be as good as you say, well… I like supporting small businesses.”

“Trust me, your support is very appreciated.”

“Yeah. I get that impression. You seem like good folk, Senorita Felicia. It’s too bad you got yourself all wrapped up with those colonizers, but it’s never too late to see the light.”

My first instinct was to defend the McCallisters, but I recognized the teasing for exactly what it was. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do.”

With a wink, he and his crew headed out. That had certainly been unexpected, but despite the rocky start, I had the feeling I’d just been adopted again.

Things really were getting interesting.