“Sure,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek. Great job, he snarled to himself. Sneaking around the back with all the trash. Are you trying to put her off?
His stomach twisted, but before he could berate himself any more, a door swung open in front of them.
“—out of the oven, and the chocs from Tess’s are—what’s this?”
Caro loomed in the door. She was in her late forties, with short-cropped brown hair and a deep scar running along one cheek. In Arlo’s eyes she was the backbone of the Hideaway community. Forget Harrison and his mayor’s chain, and the Sweets with their bridge-and-gossip group picking over the latest news: there wasn’t a person in Hideaway who hadn’t eaten to bursting in her restaurant, and dozed off their delicious gluttony in front of her blazing fireplace.
“Oh!” Jacqueline’s hand flew over her mouth. “I’m sorry, we were just—we were, um—” She dissolved into giggles. “Oh, God, this is just like sneaking around as a teenager. I swear, if someone threatens to call my Mom…”
“It’s me,” Arlo called, putting one hand on Jacqueline’s shoulder as he sent Caro a jumbled telepathic explanation: *This is Jacqueline—human—visiting from the next town over—shifter kids—pack—dinner?*
She frowned at him, which was no surprise given the pack of nonsense he’d just vomited at her, then shook her head. “I’m Caro,” she said, holding out a floury hand. “Nice to meet you…”
“Jacqueline.” Jacqueline shook Caro’s hand, either not noticing or not caring that it was covered in flour.
Caro’s eyes flicked to Arlo’s. *She’s human?*
*She’s…*
*Ah.* Caro’s jaw set and then she shrugged. *Figures.*
Arlo’s stomach stopped twisting. If Caro was happy to welcome in a human with no connection to Hideaway Cove, then maybe…
Caro jerked her head over her shoulder. “Come on in.” She snaked a grin at Arlo that made her scar pull. “Your usual spot’s free, but I’m guessing you might be after a table tonight?”
*Damn it, Caro,* Arlo growled. *I’m trying to…*
His telepathic voice faded away. What was he trying to do? Put his best foot forward? Prove to Jacqueline there was more to him than just growliness and terrible ideas?
What if there wasn’t?
Caro’s expression softened. *You worry too much, sea dog.* “Through here,” she said out loud, pointing to the door at the other end of the kitchen. “Take any table you like.”
*You say that like there’s nothing to worry about,* Arlo grumbled, and Caro snorted.
*You’re taking her to dinner. Believe me, the way things work around here, that’s better than a good start. It’s more than—*
Her voice cut off suddenly and she grabbed a passing kitchen hand. “Guts, what the hell’re you doing with those desserts? They’re—they’re melting already!”
Guts looked bewildered as Caro snatched the tray off him and marched off. *What? But those were…* He caught Arlo’s eye. *Dumplings. Not desserts…*
Arlo had never seen Caro so off-kilter. *Everything all right?* he sent across the room to her.
She didn’t look back. *Enjoy your date with your lady friend, sea dog.*
Arlo’s eyebrows drew together as he held the door for Jacqueline. That didn’t sound convincing. I’ll ask Tess to talk to her.
The restaurant wasn’t busy, this early in the evening. A few locals were nursing beers or coffees at the shared main table, and a ginger cat was lying stretched out on one of the windowsills. Arlo nodded to him and got a sharp-toothed yawn in reply.
“Is that…?” Jacqueline whispered.
“Tom Hanson. He’s been lying there since before I left on the boat, days ago.”
Tom’s mouth snapped shut. *I’m on bed rest!* he replied, indignant but not so much that he moved any other muscles. *Doctor’s orders.*
“He’s Marjorie Hanson’s grandson, here on break from college,” Arlo explained. “Plenty of shifters come here for vacations, just to spend some time in their animal form without worrying about getting caught shifting.”
“Oh.” Jacqueline’s mouth tightened. “I h