Page 3 of These Shoes Weren't Made for Stalking

“Leo! There you are,” he chirped, bouncing on his toes. His almond-shaped eyes widened as he took in the scene. The sweet aroma of cotton candy mingled with a zesty twist of citrus tickled my nose. The unique fragrance of his pheromones captured his essence perfectly. “What in the world is going on?”

“Someone vandalized Wilson’s Bakery.” My jaw clenched as I surveyed the damage once more.

“Vandalized?” Penny’s hand flew to his mouth. “Oh no, poor Rosie! Who would do such a thing?”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. “I don’t know.” My gaze swept over the shattered glass and graffiti once more.

Penny nodded, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by determination. “What can I do to help?”

His offer warmed me, despite the circumstances. I watched as police officers milled about, continuing their work. The initial flurry of activity had settled into a more methodical pace. A couple of officers huddled near Rosie’s shattered front window, their heads bent together in quiet discussion. I watched as one of the officers scribbled furiously on a small notepad. The scene felt less chaotic now, but no less unsettling. My gut told me this was far from over, even as the initial investigation appeared to be winding down for the night.

“Once the cops finish their investigation and give us the all-clear, Rosie’s gonna need all hands on deck. She shouldn’t have to face this disaster alone,” I said. “Can you round up some volunteers? The sooner we get this place back in shape, the better.”

Penny’s mouth opened to respond, but my attention shifted to a figure lingering at the edge of the crowd. The silhouette struck a familiar chord.

“Hold that thought, Penny,” I murmured, my eyes still fixed on the shadowy presence. The figure shifted, and for a split second, I caught a glimpse of a face I knew all too well.

Jake Thompson.

Jake’s lanky frame hunched as if trying to make himself smaller, nervous green eyes darting around.

Rosie’s words from last week echoed in my mind—she’d had to let Jake go. A knot formed in my stomach as I pieced together the implications.

What was he doing here? And why did I have a sinking feeling he wasn’t just another concerned bystander?

I took a step forward, my shoe crunching on a shard of glass. Jake’s gaze suddenly turned toward me and he jolted as if startled. I couldn’t be certain if he’d noticed my observation, but before I could get closer, he melted back into the darkness beyond the streetlights’ reach.

“Leo? What is it?” Penny’s voice pulled me back to the present.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of suspicion. “Nothing. Just thought I saw... Never mind. You were saying?”

2

My eyes opened, exhausted from tossing and turning all night, unable to drift off while a certain alpha’s woodsy, sharp aroma lingered in every corner of my store. The weathered timepiece on the wall announced the hour with its daily chime.

Six in the morning.

I flung my blankets off and pushed myself up with a resigned sigh. Tugging on my favorite worn-out jeans, I pulled a flannel shirt from my closet. I grabbed my phone, my fingers moving swiftly as I typed a message to Penny.

As I headed downstairs, my phone buzzed a reply. The screen lit up with Penny’s response:

Penny

On my way with caffeine. Double shot! <3 <3 <3

A faint smile tugged at my lips. Trust Penny to read between the lines of a simple text.

Fifteen minutes later, Penny breezed in, letting in a gust of crisp morning air, clutching two coffee cups from The Hideaway. His vintage blazer, a navy wool with brass buttons, looked perfectly pressed despite the early hour. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” I accepted the coffee, the cardboard sleeve warm against my fingers as I inhaled the familiar comfort of The Hideaway’s house blend. Steam curled up, carrying notes of chocolate and hazelnut. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is that what that cryptic text was about?” He dropped into my grandfather’s old leather chair, the worn cushion sighing beneath him. Morning sunlight filtered through the display window, catching dust motes that danced around his head.

The chair’s leather creaked as Penny leaned forward, his pink hair falling across one eye.

“It wasn’t that cryptic.”

A perfectly arched eyebrow shot up as he pulled out his phone. “Hot alpha. Broken shoe. Suspicious timing.”