Page 15

“I know that. But how about not confessing your kinks to your sister?”

I bat at Sophie weakly with my hand. “Go away.”

“No such luck. I’ve told you, I am as stubborn as you can be, sis. Bet you forgot breakfast again. But look, I’m a Beta bearing gifts.” She waggles the coffee at me.

I lick my lips, edging toward her. “I’m not a dog that you can train with treats.”

“It’s a method that I plan to use with my Omega. It seems to be working with you.” Sophie grimaces, as she scans over my oak chest of drawers with its brass-handled drawers hanging open and bras dangling from its corners, before picking her way over the ruined nest. “What do I need to bring to encourage you to clean up this pigsty?”

I eye the brown paper, suddenly aware of the pains clawing at my stomach. “Do you have an Omega?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sophie jumps over a gutted pillow to land on the bed beside me.

She drops the bag next to me.

I lay the leather jacket over my lap, before dragging the brown bag closer. When I tear it open, I am hit by the sweet smell of butter, dough, and sweet cream cheese.

I snatch up the kolache pastry, which is still soft enough to pull apart. I take a bite, savoring the pillowy bread and tangy vanilla of the cream cheese. Powdered sugar sticks to my thumb.

“It’s good,” I mumble, through my mouthful.

“You eat.” Sophie pats my knee, and I flinch. “And I’ll talk. You’ve been stuck inside these four walls for months. You haven’t heard the gossip.” She leans closer conspiratorially. “Judge Callahan was just cited by the Homeowners Association for a Nesting Violation because his dumbass Omega’s outdoor porch nest was visible from the road…if you know what I mean.”

“You’re making this up.” I shove the last piece of pastry into my mouth.

Sophie waggles her eyebrows. “I sure as hell ain’t making up about the college kid who tried covering their presentation scent with barbecue rub neither.”

I stare at her. “Bless their heart.”

Sophie chuckles. “That’s why we are going out. You’re missing the good shit.”

I scramble back on the bed, hugging my knees. “I can’t.”

“Don’t you want to visit the animal shelter with me?” Sophie’s gaze is too piercing like she’s seeing straight through me. “You can just pet the animals. We have a new cat that you’ll love, Cornbread.”

“You named her, huh?”

“She is a three-year-old, orange domestic shorthair tabby, and a mastermind who organized a jailbreak of the other cats, followed by a snack-smuggling operation. You’ll love her.”

I narrow my eyes at my sister. “Now I know that you’re inventing these stories like I used to make tales up to amuse you every bedtime.”

“Am I?” Sophie passes me the coffee, and I sip it. I sigh in satisfaction. She always gets it perfect. “You wouldn’t have said that, if you’d just spent four hours childproofing the shelter because Cornbread somehow worked out how to break out. I saw her on the monitors leading her fellow cats to knock down kibble to feast on, the cute pain in my ass.”

I take another sip. “As much as I want to visit and pet your little shit of an imaginary cat…I can’t.”

I do want to.

I used to enjoy Sophie’s funny stories from the shelter, as well as visiting her rescues.

Yet it’s too much. Anxiety swirls through my gut.

I am safe inside Acorn Inn. This is where Beau and Evan are…were… Where their ashes rest.

What Sophie doesn’t know is that I only have three weeks left in this inn before it is auctioned off.

I can’t miss a single day that I have left.

The countdown starts now.