A full week went by, and I still couldn’t forget that adorable little boy and his dad, Pierre. After seeing them in the park, I’d been worried that I’d had a fling with a married omega when I’d fucked him in Vegas, but Liam had set me straight later when I’d asked him for information.

According to Liam, Pierre was a single father, with no alpha in the picture. It broke my heart to think of that precious boy and his hard-working dad all alone in the world. Apparently, Pierre was starting some sort of shop here in town and had recently moved here from France.

I was as fascinated by him as I’d been that night in Vegas, but I hadn’t pressed him for more that day at the park. Not just because I hadn’t been sure if he was even on the market. No. He had been clear during our night together that he wasn’t looking for anything more than what we’d shared. And him slipping out while I was asleep just cemented it.

The fact that I couldn’t get it out of my mind was a me problem, and had nothing to do with him. If he wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with me, then I wouldn’t push. Although I sure wouldn’t mind spending more time with him and his little boy.

“Kent, how are those PBF Ballz coming?” Tom asked distractedly as he came walking in, looking over his tablet where he’d tabulated our orders.

“For the Macintosh party? Those are all done, wrapped up, and waiting on the pickup shelf. Right now, I’m working on that new recipe for Valentine’s Day.”

“The Salty Caramel Ballz? Those are going to be the bomb.” Tom nodded authoritatively. “I think those Plum Cordial ones that you whipped up are also going to be a hit. At least, they will be if we get any customers in here today.”

“What do you mean? Friday’s easily our busiest day, it always has been. What’s up today? Is there a festival in town that I don’t know about?” I asked with confusion as I walked over and looked through the window of the swinging door that separated my kitchen from the main shopping area.

Just as Tom had suggested, the shop was a ghost town. The only one out there was our cashier, Casey. And he was just doing busy work to pass the time.

“It’s that hot, new bakery that just opened directly across the street. It’s their opening day, and there is a line wrapping around the building over there. Haven’t you noticed it? The Salty Stix? It’s a fully stocked French bakery. I’m planning to go across the street when things die down for them, and take a Welcome to the Neighborhood gift to the owner. Hmm. You know what? Why don’t you wrap up some of those Salty Caramel Ballz for me? I’ll take those, it will be perfect.”

“Wait, Tom. Are you seriously saying that we have direct competition now, and they located themselves right across the fucking street? And you actually want to go over there and be neighborly? Have you lost your damn mind? There are other open spaces for rent in this town, moving where they did was just a dick move.”

“My, my. Someone’s feeling salty today. Perhaps you’ve been tasting that new recipe too much? I don’t think I’ve heard you say this much in one conversation in the past entire week, what’s got your engine revving, Kent? Or, should I say who? You never did tell me about how you knew that cute little blonde omega with the adorable son that we met in the park last weekend. I know there’s a story there.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing from past experience to not let Tom wheedle information out of me. The guy was a seasoned pro at skilled interrogation though, so my usual response was just to stay quiet and focus on the candy. With that in mind, I reached into the ball of dough and began silently rolling another ball. These Salty Caramel Ballz were going to make a lot of people happy.

Tom snorted as he walked away, already tapping onto the screen of his tablet. “Go ahead and ignore me, little alpha boy. I’m onto your tricks. That’s okay, Tom will find out soon enough. We spies have our ways.”

* * *

A week later, we still weren’t showing any increase in lost business. Things had gotten so bad that Tom had cut back on Casey’s hours and was running the front himself most days. Neither Tom nor Milo, the shop’s actual owner, were concerned about it though.

“Honestly, Kent. Milo and Tom are right, you need to just relax and let this go. Business will rebound once people are used to the new bakery. It’s just that there is a shiny new option in town, you know? Besides, they also do cakes. It will be nice to buy quality cakes for the kids’ parties when I don’t have time to bake them myself.”

Liam was trying to reassure me as we all sat around sharing lunch at the big metal table in the center of my kitchen where I usually preferred to work. My brother Christian, or Chun as I called him, had started this whole lunching with me thing several years ago, and the rest of the group had slowly started joining us, until now it was a regular thing.

“Yeah, Kent. Don’t worry, baby alpha. People will still want to come in here and get their hands on our Sweet Ballz,” Tom said with an innocent expression as he fluttered those ginger lashes. Liam and Chun were cracking up at Tom’s antics, but I was too pissed off to join in this time.

I don’t know why I was taking it so personally, except for the fact that the shop had been my saving grace ever since I’d first gotten my job here as a cashier back in high school.

The day that Milo had made me the new candy maker after he’d trained me during his first pregnancy had been the proudest day of my life. It was like my entire identity was centered around this job, and the new bakery was threatening that. It was probably petty as hell on my part, but I couldn’t help how I felt.

The rest of the day went by slower than the molasses I poured for my famous Pecan Ballz. I was relieved when it was finally time to go home. With orders barely trickling in lately, my workday had been comprised of finally having time to go reorganize the pantry and update my recipe book.

When I got out to my car, there was a flyer tucked under my windshield wiper. I hated when people did that, and today was really not the day to test my abnormally low patience level. When I glanced at the neon pink flyer, I gritted my teeth and growled in anger as I read it.

I crumpled the flyer in my fist, unable to believe that our new neighbor was being so cutthroat and competitive. Didn't they know that Hollydale didn't work like that? Our town was a community of friends who supported each other and worked together.

This was not the big city where the sharks circled each other to get at the fresh meat. I shoved the paper into my pocket to throw away later, and turned to get in my car. I heard a metallic tink as my foot kicked something that had been on the ground near my tire.

I bent down to find a sharp tipped golden arrow, the exact twin of the one that I'd found outside my hotel room in Vegas. The shaft was even bent in the exact same way as the first one that I'd found. I narrowed my eyes and wondered briefly if I had a stalker.

I couldn't think of who would be shooting arrows at my hotel room door and car though. I mean, the only common factor between the two was Pierre, and that was a stretch at best. No, the first arrow appearing after I'd spent the night with the mysterious omega and the second after he came to live in my town was no reason to connect it to him. Although, I still had no idea who the father of his son was. Maybe this was a message to stay away from him and his son?

As I slid into my car, I reached over and put the arrow carefully in my glove compartment, taking time to lock it. I wouldn't want any of the children in my life to get hurt if they came across that sharp ass tip. I'd worry about the mystery of the arrow another time. For now, I had enough on my plate with this new fucking bakery. And this flyer? This meant war.