Page 3 of Trash and Treasure
2
Jack
“I thinkthese are the best yet!” Sherri exclaimed over Jack’s maple-cider-bacon donuts. “I can’t wait to put them out front. You’re a genius!”
Jack Hargrave smiled and looked down as the warmth of his boss’s praise washed over him. He and his inner possum weren’t used to positive attention.
“Thank you,” Jack stuttered. “I’m glad you like them.”
Sherri laid a hand on his arm. “You’re an excellent baker, Jack. That’s why I hired you. The customers love your creations. We’re happy to have you here.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly, knowing that he was the lucky one. He made an escape to the kitchen, feeling the need to lose himself in the rhythm of baking. The kitchen was his sanctuary. Since he worked late, he came in after the lunch rush, and the kitchen became his domain.
When he’d shown up a few months ago, he had spent the last money he had to buy food as he hitchhiked to Fox Hollow from Utica. His family had died in a wildfire while he’d been at culinary school. There was nothing left when he returned home, no reason to stay.
Jack had heard of Fox Hollow, a place where shifters without their “packs” were welcome, a haven for oddballs. Possum shifters weren’t common, and Jack was tired of dealing with the prejudice he encountered because his “other side” wasn’t considered to be handsome and studly.
Possums have a mouthful of teeth, nice claws, and a prehensile tail. Totally badass,his shifter self noted with pride.
Yeah, yeah, he replied.We don’t get rabies, we eat ticks, and we don’t hurt anyone. We’re nice, but not exactly exciting.
What part of prehensile tail isn’t cool? And we can shinny up a tree like nobody’s business.
Jack loved his inner possum’s optimism. He wished he shared that trait with his other self. And he was proud of his animal. But Jack was also a realist. He knew what people thought of possums, and he’d gotten tired of fighting about it. His lucky break had come when Sherrie had taken pity on him, given him a job, and let him rent the apartment over the shop at a discount. She didn’t know or care about his shifter self.
Maybe it’s too much to ask to be that lucky a second time.
Jack had fallen for the handsome garbage guy with the soulful eyes. He’d dated a little back in his hometown, but never seriously and not with a shifter. Jack didn’t know what kind of animal Mico was, but he was sure it was more exciting than a possum.
He likes us. Can’t you see it in his eyes? He wants to mate with you.
Jeez! So not sexy. Not how people think of it.
I’m not people.
True.
Jack could feel his possum’s curiosity.You want to mate with him. Where is the problem?
Jack rolled his eyes.Yes, he’s sexy. But I think he’s more than just a roll in the hay.
Hay? I didn’t know hay was involved.
It’s a human expression for having quick sex.
And you would like to have long sex?
Jack groaned.That’s not the point. Mico is someone I’d like to get to know for more than just sex. Although I’m sure the sex would be great.
You’re afraid that when he finds out what we are, he might not be interested?
Jack could hear the hurt in his possum-self’s tone.If he can’t see how amazing both of us are, then he’s not worth my time. I know possums rock. But we’ve run into people before who don’t understand.
Jack felt his possum withdraw, leaving him alone. He didn’t know how to explain his tangled feelings. Yes, Mico was sex on legs. Jack kept his apron on when he brought out the donuts because he got hard with just one look at those shadowed eyes and bad boy good looks. Mico had just enough of a height and weight advantage that Jack fantasized about how safe he’d feel tucked against that chest, wrapped up in those arms, held down beneath him.
Just thinking about sex with Mico went right to his groin. Then again, Mico had starred in Jack’s spank bank daydreams since they first met. He felt sure Mico felt the attraction too. Especially after his little donut eating performance that practically had Jack creaming his jeans.
Maybe we can at least be friends. See how it goes. He’s here in Fox Hollow, and I doubt he’s a psychic or a witch if he’s driving a garbage truck, so that means he’s got to be some sort of shifter.
