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Kissing Reno(Brac Village 3)

By:Lynn Hagen

Chapter One

Reno Davis pulled his motorcycle in front of the bakery shop, cut the motor, and swung his long leg over his hog to dismount. Removing his helmet, he set it on the seat and then rubbed a hand over his short cropped hair. The chief wanted donuts, so here Reno was getting them for the bear.

The shifter had an affinity for sweets, and it was Reno’s turn to make the run before heading into work. As he gazed out at the beautiful morning and inhaled the crisp air, he pocketed his keys and walked into Sweet Delight.

The smell of yeast, dough, sugar, and melted butter assailed him, and Reno had to admit that the aroma made his mouth water. He may not be that big of a sweets eater, but he loved homemade bread.

And the place smelled like a few fresh loaves had just come straight from the oven. He shoved his hands into his front pockets, taking a look around the shop. The shelves were filled with everything that could keep a dentist in business. He spotted glistening sticky buns, chocolate-studded cookies, and white powder as far as the eye could see, but Reno had eyes only for the bin of assorted breads.

“Morning,” said a man who had a powerful upper body, strong jaw, and a pair of deep-set eyes the color of a clear sky. Reno sniffed the air…and then sniffed again. Behind all the sweet aromas that were surrounding him from the baked goods, he scented shifter. Though he inhaled as deeply as he could without being too obvious, he couldn’t place what breed the man was. It was a very odd scent. The flavor on the air almost tasted like open fields and wild grass.

It made his coyote uneasy, wary. He wasn’t sure what kind of beast this man carried, but it was definitely predatory. Reno gave him a cautious nod. “I need a dozen donuts.”

His eyes covertly followed every move the guy made. Reno didn’t like coming across unknowns. He knew he was in a town of werewolves, but he knew werewolf behavior. This guy was unfamiliar. It also seemed odd to him that this strong man worked in a bakery. He didn’t look the type to be baking cookies. More like the type that should be working on heavy machinery or something that required muscle. Muffins definitely didn’t suit him.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” the guy said as he grabbed a box from a shelf and began to construct the thing.

“Just transferred to the fire station,” Reno answered as he took in the way the guy’s muscles flexed as he worked. The shifter had one hell of an upper body.

“Name’s Kenway.” The man stuck out his hand after setting the box down.

Reno gazed at the hand for a moment and then gave it a firm shake. Kenway must have noticed his hesitancy. “Buffalo.”

“What?” Reno asked as he glanced up into the guy’s eyes. “What was that?”

Kenway leaned on the shiny counter, his arms seeming to double in size. “You’re trying to figure out what I am. I’m a buffalo shifter.”

Reno had never met a buffalo shifter before. He hadn’t even known they existed. He was a reserved man by nature, had always been that way. He used caution when meeting someone until he got to know them, and then he usually had a friend for life. Finding out Kenway was a large predator gave Reno pause. “Coyote,” he offered in return.

Kenway gave a nod as he stood straight. “So, did you want all the same or a variety?”

“What?” Reno asked. God, he was starting to sound daft even to himself. He was studying the man like he had never seen another human being in his life. He wasn’t sure what fascinated him so much about Kenway. His coyote was sizing the guy up, but Reno was wondering what he would look like in his shifted form.

“Donuts,” Kenway said as his eyes increased in intensity. Reno could tell the guy was getting irritated. He tore his stare away from the buffalo and glanced at the glass case.

“It doesn’t matter. They’re for the firehouse.” Reno wasn’t going to be eating them. He turned, glancing over the bakery, forcing himself not to outright gawk at the man. He tried his best to regain the cool composure he had before he realized Kenway was a shifter.

Pulling his hands from his jeans, Reno glanced at the shelf with the fresh breads. Now these he could eat all day long. Heated up with some butter…Reno would be in heaven. He grabbed two loaves, one French bread, the other plain white. His mother used to make fresh bread every Saturday when he was growing up. To smell the fresh loaves made him feel nostalgic. That reminded him, he needed to call her and let her know he had settled into Brac Village. She would worry about him if he didn’t. “I’ll take these as well.”

When Kenway didn’t say anything, Reno knew he had offended the guy. He wasn’t trying to be an outright prick, but he didn’t apologize either. It wasn’t every day he ran into a buffalo. Kenway couldn’t blame him for his curiosity.