“Howl’s that one?” Veronica smiled, enjoying the fire blazing in her belly. “Good?”
Ignoring her completely now, Logan slid a napkin from beneath one of the trays and smashed it across his lips.
“I’m truly sorry for the mess my fiance is making,” Veronica said to the baker. “I should keep him on a tighter leash.”
Logan choked. Veronica smacked him hard on the back. “Oh, are you okay,
He composed himself, but it took longer than a minute for him to wipe the scowl off his face.
“That’s the Italian rum cake.” The baker smiled proudly. “One of my personal favorites.”
“Jake, honey, you should slow down or the baker isn’t going to know which one you truly enjoy and which one you’re just pretending you enjoy until you find one better.” She shot him a slanted smile. “I know how you don’t like to commit to things, but he’ll need a decision before we leave today.”
“I may not come to decisions easily, but at least he knows I enjoy his baking. If I take a bite of this one”—he bit half of a yellow square—“and moan and groan, that means I like this cake, whether it’s lemon or butter yellow or pineapple. It’s good, by the way.” He nodded at the baker, who smiled without showing his teeth. “But it wouldn’t make a damn lick of sense if I picked up this piece of cake, moaned and groaned and screamed its praises to high elevator-shaft heaven, then when I found out that it was lemon, tossed the sucker in the trash and cursed this poor guy out.”
“I’ll, uh, be waiting in back.” The baker skirted behind the counter.
Hearing his message loud and clear, Veronica leaned over the table. “But that lemon cake wasn’t responsible for ruining someone’s life.”
Logan frowned. “How can lemon cake ruin someone’s life?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! It can’t, but I was just—” She threw her arms over her head. “Forget it, okay? I might’ve moaned and groaned or whatever, but that was before I knew what you were.”
“Why does that matter?”
“What do you care, anyway? It’s not like what happened between us is going to turn into anything either of us want.” The fire in her belly was gone now, replaced by a feeling of emptiness that hundreds of squares of cakes couldn’t fill. “I can’t be with a wolf, I won’t. You guys can’t be controlled and what happens if we get in a fight or something and—”
“You mean fights like we’ve been having since we met each other?”
Her head fogged. “You don’t want to be with me anyway.”
“I do, actually.” His eyes shone a honey shade of brown. “More than I should, and in more ways than you can imagine.”
Numbness tingled beneath her skin, as if her nerves were waking up after being kinked for too long.
“Know what I don’t understand?” He leaned over the table, planting his elbows on the edge. “Your sister was attacked by someone from our pack, yes. And she went through a really difficult transition, I’ll give you that. But she’s happy now. She and Jake are in love and going to spend the rest of their lives together. I may not want the same things Jake wants, but I’m smart enough to know a perfect fit when I see one. They belong together. How can you possibly hate wolves, when you see how much joy being one has brought to your sister and my best friend?”
His words sliced through her. “You’re right, you don’t understand,” she said, barely able to speak. “Our parents died when we were teenagers. We’ve lived on our own since then, Leah and me, just the two of us. We’ve looked after each other and been by each other’s side through everything…well, everything except this stalking fiasco.”
“I’m sorry about your parents.” Logan ripped another napkin from beneath the plate and started wringing it out. Veronica wondered absentmindedly if that’s how Logan controlled his anger—the clenching fists, wringing things out and balling them up in his hands. “How’d they die?” he asked.
“Car accident. Drunk driver swerved over the yellow line. It was a long time ago, but it hurts like it happened yesterday.” He reached for her hand. She pulled it back and set both hands in her lap. If he touched her now, she’d lose her composure and fall apart completely. “Leah was the only family I had left in the world. The only person who really, truly knew me. We were family.”
“Why are you talking about her in the past tense?”
“It’s not the same as it was before.” It was the only way Veronica could explain it.
“You mean
“She’s part of your wolf pack now. She’s got a new husband, a new family of uber-protective wolves surrounding her. Where am I in the mix of all that?” Anger flashed through her veins. “I’m left out. I’m not a part of your pack functions or holidays. She’s moved on and I’m—”
“Left behind,” he finished for her. “You feel alone again, like when your parents died. You’re not angry, you’re grieving.”
“No, that’s not what’s happening at all.” She shook her head and leaned over the cakes, pointing into Logan’s chest. “I’m saying that a werewolf took Leah from me. He took away the only family I had left and ripped my heart out.”
She couldn’t talk about this anymore. She just couldn’t do it. The pain was too much to bear.
After her parents died, Veronica couldn’t function. Between the courts and the paperwork, she didn’t have time to grieve. She didn’t shed a single tear, not even at their funeral. To survive, she shut out the pain. But she shut everything else out, too. For years, there was no happiness and no laughter in her life. No purpose. In order to separate the two, Veronica foolishly imagined there was a door to her emotions that only she could access. She envisioned doors that led to happiness, and others that led to pain. She went into the wedding business to keep herself walking forward, opening door after door that led to happiness.
The fact that it always led to others’ happiness didn’t matter.
Odd, but she’d never thought of the childish coping mechanism until today. Not until this moment. All she wanted to do was get out of this bakery and forget Logan Black ever walked into her life.
“Excuse me,” she called to the baker as she stood. “I don’t need to taste any more. We’re going to take the new flavor. Make the groom’s cake inspired by whatever you’d like.”
“Veronica, wait a second.” Logan grabbed her hand as the baker approached. “You’re not wrong to feel the way you do, but you shouldn’t be angry. Stay. Stay and talk to me.”
Veronica hesitated, and for the first time, wanted to let someone in. But with Logan, the consequences were too great. She remembered all too clearly the fight in front of the Nightshade hotel. The scene had been ripped straight from her nightmares. Logan had wanted to protect her, but he was willing to fight to the death. To kill another like it was no skin off his snout. Murderous genes were in his blood, weren’t they? What happened if she hooked up with Logan and they got in a fight and he got angry with her in the same way? He’d shift and if he wasn’t careful, he would hurt her. She’d constantly have to walk on eggshells so she wouldn’t make him lose control. That wasn’t the kind of life she wanted, one where she couldn’t do or say things in fear of making her partner angry.
Her heart lurched with uncertainty and agony, soul-wrenching stings that speared through her. Turning her back on Logan and the feelings of loss washing over her, Veronica walked out the door and made sure it latched behind her.
Chapter Sixteen
Donning a long black dress and the shoes she’d won from Heather in the bet to talk to Logan, Veronica pulled in front of Marie’s, a swanky Italian restaurant near Pike Place Market. The shoes were black, strappy, and super comfortable. This was the first time she’d worn them, and she was doing it more out of principle than anything. She didn’t go over and talk to Logan at the Grady wedding for a pair of shoes that she’d never wear.
After they left the bakery yesterday, Heather called to remind her that Marie’s was scheduled to cater a large wedding for them next month. While Heather was usually the one who took care of dinner previews, she’d
