Page 2 of Jacked-up Mate
“Like what?”
“I planted some new versions. Midnight. Jarrahdale. Ghost. Different colors and outside textures.” His voice slowed with the last words. “I’m…is this offensive?”
“Talking about pumpkins?” I laughed, shaking my head. Cole had good intentions but sometimes fumbled to get the right words out. “No. I’m not a pumpkin; my head turns into one. I’m not a pumpkin rights advocate.”
He snorted. “Yeah, it sounds stupid now that I think about it. Anyway, there will be plenty of produce for the town and extra for making canned goods for the winter.”
“You’ll let me know if I can help with the harvest, right?”
“I will. I’ll probably need it this year. Plus, I’m hoping to spend more time in town this year.”
“Why is that?” I asked, finishing my food in record time. Time was wealth to me now. “Does Whisper Grove have some new events this year? I haven’t checked the newsletter.”
“No. But we’re expecting more visitors and tourists this year. That’s why Gretchen is working even harder. Everyone is.”
“She mentioned something about everyone putting on their best face, but I thought it was just the mayor being upbeat and optimistic.”
Cole leaned back. “I know there has been some uptick in the social media posts, and it’s garnering a lot of attention for our small town.”
“I need to get out more. Maybe I’ll go into town tomorrow and have lunch at the diner. That place is a haven for gossip.”
Cole got up and my eyes flicked to the clock.
Shit. I only had a few minutes. “Thanks for dinner. I’m gonna go. Stop by the farm tomorrow, and I’ll show you the crops.”
“Will do.”
Cole left, and I popped two homemade chocolate chip cookies in my mouth before the change came on. My skin tingled. The scent of pumpkin wafted in the air. My ears ached. That might’ve been the strangest part.
As if I was encased in a bubble. But my head was the bubble.
It would’ve been better if the mage turned me into an orc at night. Omegas fawned and fainted over orcs. Even the tusks.
I stepped out to the front porch and watched the sun seep into the horizon bit by bit. As it did, I inhaled deeply and let thechange come over me. It felt like my head was blowing up like a balloon and threatening to pop all night.
The only way to reverse the curse was the one thing I wasn’t capable of having.
No one wanted to mate an alpha with a jack-o’-lantern for a head.
Chapter Two
Foster
A new job in a new town…I should be excited about a fresh start like this, and I was until emerging from a dead zone to find my GPS voice lady nearly hysterical with recalculations and then disappearing again into silence. I’d lived in an urban area for so long, I’d forgotten that there even were dead zones. The fall leaves blazed on both sides of the highway, and in the distance lay what appeared to be—from this angle—a charming little town.
I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and with the light fading, my stomach growled loud enough I almost confused it with my wolf. Surely there would be somewhere I could get dinner and directions. So, I took the exit and breezed toward town. Hopefully the break would refresh me, and then I could get back on the road to my new home town.
The job offer couldn’t have come at a better time, with layoffs at my own firm extending to every department. I hadn’t gotten a notice yet, but hopefully my good fortune would save someone else’s position. And something about autumn always felt like a good time for a new adventure. Probably a remnant of my love of new school years when I was a pup.
As I drew closer to the town, I could see the lights twinkling in the windows of homes and businesses, offering a welcoming image to lost travelers like me. Every place seemed to have a wreath or lights or other decorations of the season, and the diner I pulled up to was more festive than any other building.
The owner clearly planned ahead, with a mix of autumnal items suited to all the holidays of the season. Ghosts suspended from the porch overhead fluttered their sheets in greeting to customers while scarecrows lounged on straw bales beside thefront door. Pots of marigolds in yellow, gold, rust, and brown lined the porch railing, alternating with pumpkins of every variety I’d ever seen and some I had not. Blues, greens, and cream colored in addition to the traditional orange.
Before I opened the door, my wolf pronounced us home.
Don’t be silly. We are just going to eat and get directions before continuing on our way.
He was probably just reacting to the smell of food. And I couldn’t blame him because the scent of grilling cheeseburgers had my mouth watering. My wolf’s preference for raw meat aside, we were hungry, hungry creatures.
