Page 1 of Trash and Treasure
1
Mico
Beep—Beep—Beep.The garbage truck sounded its warning as Mico Foley backed up to the café’s dumpster.
Not what I had in mind for the soundtrack to my life, but it is what it is.
Mico smiled when he saw that he had backed in just right to empty the big bin.And on the first try too. If my Drivers’ Ed teacher could see me now.
Then again, maybe his instructor had loftier aspirations in mind for him by the time Mico hit twenty-seven than dumpster tipping. Mico’s smile dimmed just a bit.
It’s honest work, providing a needed service. Someone has to do it. The pay is decent, and so are the hours and benefits. I’ve done worse for a lot less. And I have mornings and afternoons free to work on my other stuff.
Mico checked his hair in the mirror and made sure he didn’t have anything stuck between his teeth. He’d never admit to having stopped to freshen up in a convenience store restroom, wash his face, touch up his deodorant, check his shirt for stains, and spritz on some cologne before stopping to pick up the trash from Bear Necessities Coffee and Café in Fox Hollow.
Just in case Jack might still be at work.
Mico’s heart sped up when he saw the kitchen light on after the restaurant was long closed. Since eateries didn’t like the noise and smell of having their garbage collected during business hours, Mico made his rounds after, either late at night or very early in the morning, depending on the weather. Lately, he’d started timing when he picked up at the café based on the new baker’s work schedule.
I don’t know if a guy like him would want a guy like me, but I’m going to enjoy everything I can get while I can get it.
Everyone knew that some types of shifters were more desirable than others. Apex predators like wolves, bears, and the big cats were sexy. Raccoon shifters weren’t. Despite all the cute “trash panda” memes, stereotypes persisted about stealing and hoarding. He’d heard enough of those for a lifetime.
Yeah, you got that right,his scrappy inner raccoon cheered silently.Don’t buy into that specie-ist crap. Nothin’ wrong with who we are. Anyone who can’t see that isn’t worth the time of day.
Mico knew his raccoon-self meant well. As a human, Mico rocked a bit of a bad-boy vibe with dark hair, deep-set dark eyes, and enough scruff to look edgy. That was enough for hookups, but a mate would need to know the truth. And aside from Rocket and Sly Cooper, raccoons really weren’t badass.
For a few minutes, his concentration focused on emptying the dumpster, which required skill and care not to make a mess. Once he’d finished, Mico dared to glance at the café’s back door, wondering if Jack would show up.
He hesitated and pulled out his phone, so he wouldn’t look like he was actuallywaiting.After a moment or two, he started to second-guess himself.Maybe Jack isn’t coming out. Doesn’t mean anything—might just be busy.His heart didn’t buy the excuse.
Just as Mico figured he had better get going, the back door opened, and Jack hurried out, looking breathless and carrying a takeout container.
“I was afraid these wouldn’t be done in time,” Jack said, face flushed. It put some color into his pale skin. Along with his white-blond hair and light blue eyes, Mico thought Jack looked like some kind of angel.
Mico got down from the truck, having already made sure to use the wipes he’d started carrying to wash his hands. “What’s the new flavor tonight? I am your willing donut guinea pig,” he said with the flirtiest smile he could manage.
“Hard cider maple bacon,” Jack replied, and although he was theoretically offering Mico a donut or two to “help him test new recipes,” the smile that twitched the corners of that kissable mouth told Mico that Jack was confident this concoction was a winner.
“You had me at hello,” Mico said, dropping his voice into a growl. He thought he saw Jack shiver, even though the evening was relatively warm by Fox Hollow standards.
“Go ahead. Try it,” Jack urged.
Jack stood about four inches shorter than Mico’s five-foot-ten.He’d fit just perfectly under my chin.Mico wasn’t a big guy, but he was fit and trim for his height, and his work built muscle.
Jack was slender, with an adorable hint of a tummy beneath his apron that Mico figured was the price of being around baked goods all the time. For some reason, that hint of softness was an incredible turn-on. He guessed that Jack might be a couple of years younger, which didn’t bother Mico at all.
Mico reached out to take one of the donuts. He paused to admire the even shape and icing and let his eyelids flutter nearly closed as he inhaled the tempting scent. “This looks fantastic.”
He took a bite, then let out a pornographic moan of ecstasy. “So good. My God. This is amazing,” he said after the first taste. “Won’t lie—don’t think I can take my time with this.”
Mico took another bite, wishing for an eclair to show off his lack of gag reflex. When he finished, he licked his fingers and sucked the sugar off his thumb, pulling it out of his mouth with a softpop.
Mico kept eye contact throughout his performance, making a show of slowly swallowing, raising his chin to show off the movement of his throat, making pleasure noises like he had fucked the pastry instead of eating it.
From the blush that rose to Jack’s cheeks and the way his pupils dilated, Mico felt certain that his reaction was appreciated.But does he have a clue that’s how I feel about him and not just his baked goods?
“There’s a second one—in case you wanted to check for quality control,” Jack said, sounding breathy.
