Chapter Eight Josh

Each morning I got up, went to the cafe, and kneaded dough until I couldn't feel my arms anymore. Then I baked some more. And more. In some ways, it was just what I needed to forget the situation I was in. In other ways it reminded me of what I'd lost and the fact that I wasn't going to wake up one day and head back into the culinary building at school. There were no chef's whites waiting for me, just a tan apron with flour dust lining the pockets and Andy.

I was skeptical about him at first. Who wouldn't be after the way he came onto me at the market? But my anger over that situation was quickly overshadowed by just life in general. I'd become somewhat of a black cloud, which I was aware of, but didn't have any interest in changing. Forcing myself to be happy wouldn't make my bread rise faster. In fact, the depression seemed to focus my work. I didn't feel the need to chat or be friendly while I was in the cafe because I frankly didn't want to talk. And Andy didn't push me to be.

He stayed true to his word too. Not only did he treat me professionally, but he paid me a damn good wage and got my health insurance setup as well. I wasn't entirely sure how to handle all of that, having never had a real job in my life. I'd sold baked goods out of my locker in high school for gas money, but that didn't require me to look through benefits or pay taxes. But Andy was patient and took the time to explain things to me. In many ways, he was helping me just as much, if not more than Sam was.

And honestly, it was hard not to like him. He was funny, a good boss, and always had a smile on his face. Granted, the constant smile annoyed me because I was so intent on being gloomy all the time. But there were several times I caught myself smirking at one of his bad jokes. And he always had something positive to say about my work. I craved the compliments, but I also found myself shying away from them. I'd met a lot of people at school that were egotistical. It seemed to be the mark of a real chef. And that was the last thing I wanted to be. Being told I was doing well was nice, but getting that compliment from a near stranger in a town I'd only lived in for a couple of weeks felt somehow less.

Really, when it came down to it, I just felt out of place. I didn't belong. And nobody could convince me otherwise.

So when Andy told me we had a special order from Sam for a wolf-only full moon party and we were expected to attend it, I quickly tried to get out of it.

"What do you mean you don't want to go?" Andy asked, surprised by my sudden refusal. "Sam throws the best parties! He's always got good food and everyone is there."

"I don't want to go," I replied, shaking my head. "I'll cook whatever you want me to, but I don't feel like going to a party."

"Why not?"

I sighed. Andy had a habit of asking impertinent questions. "I just don't want to, okay?"

"What if I said you had to? As your boss?"

"What if I said you should find a new baker?"

He held up his hands in mock defeat and doing that pouty lip thing he liked to do "Alright. I understand. But I think you're making a mistake. Sam does a lot for people like you and me and this would be a great way to meet new people."

"Really?" I grumbled. "A guilt trip?"

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. But this is important to Sam. He's created a sort of family here with all of us that he's taken in. We're almost like a pack."

"But you're not." I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him. "You aren't a family and you aren't a pack. This town is full of nothing but rogue wolves."

"Yeah. And that's why we all look out for one another."

"Please," I scoffed. "Rogue wolves only care about themselves."

Andy's brows furrowed, his hands going to his hips. "Do you think I gave you this job because I only care about myself?"

His sudden irritation surprised me. Usually Andy didn't get upset about anything.

"Why did you then?" I asked, knowing he'd feed me some line about charity and wanting to take care of others like him.

"Because you have potential and I don't want to see you waste it."

I froze up. That wasn't the answer I expected.

Andy sighed, the anger fading from his voice. "Look, I know you've been put through it, Josh. Whatever happened back home must've been bad." I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand to silence me. "I don't know any of the details and I don't know much about you, but I do know one thing." He took a step forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You have talent and potential. It's practically oozing out of your pores. I know you don't believe it, or at least you pretend not to. But you could actually be something if you'd just let yourself."

I felt a strange sort of tingling sensation drip down my skin from where his hand touched me. He was so close that I could feel the heat from his skin. Up until that moment, I'd never picked up Andy's scent. Usually all I could smell were the spices in the bakery. But as it washed over me, I felt my heart skip a beat. He smelled of juniper and fresh rain.

For a moment I felt myself lean forward, inhaling deeply without thinking. Realizing what I was doing, I pulled myself back and dropped my gaze to the floor. The sense of peace that I began to feel leached away as reality sank back in. His words were nice, but for some reason they created an icy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know what it meant, only that it made me feel hollow.

"I didn't hire you just to appease Sam or make my life easier," Andy said softer this time. "I did it because I believe in you."

"Why?" I heard myself say. "You don't even know me. Why do you care?"

Andy just sighed. "I'd like to know you. Sam would too. There's lots of wolves around here that would like to know you." He patted my shoulder before pulling his hand away at last. "But you have to let them, Josh."

I stood there for a long moment, his words echoing in my ears. The spot where he'd touched me felt strangely cold without his hand there and the tingling sensation was gone along with his scent. I felt a strange urge to step forward so I could smell him again, but I didn't allow it to happen. Guys didn't do that to one another. Not to mention, the idea of being close to other people made my skin crawl. If I couldn't trust my own family to have my back, how could I trust a bunch of strangers? Getting close just led to pain.

"I won't force you to go," Andy added, going back to his station. "But I think it would be good for you to get out of that hotel for once and talk to someone other than me." He paused for a moment. "Actually, why don't you join me down at the market this weekend? You don't have to sell or interact with customers, but I have a couple of friends you might like."

"I don't know…" I began.

"No, this one I won't budge on," Andy replied. "I need more help at the booth. With your baking the customers have gotten even more ravenous. You don't have to stay the entire time, but I'll need a little support. Someone has to dole out the coffee while I'm packing baked goods."

I let out a long sigh. "I guess I can go if you really need the help."

"Oh good!" Andy clapped his hands together, a cloud of flour exploding around him. "I think you'll really like my booth neighbors. They're just like me!"

"Annoyingly cheerful?" I offered, unable to help the smirk that pulled at my lips.

Andy shot me a dirty look, but couldn't help a grin himself. "No. They're gay werewolves. And one of them dresses like a cowboy."

The smirk faded.

"Don't worry," Andy assured me. "They won't hit on you. They are disgustingly in love though."

"Great," I muttered. "More happy people."