Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5)

Three Hours (Seven Series Book 5) by Dannika Dark

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

Wheeler rubbed his eyes and sat on a wooden step that led off the main porch of their oversized house. He was drained after pulling an all-nighter and helping Lexi review the company expenses. She owned Sweet Treats and did a damn fine job, but one person couldn’t do it all. April managed the first location on the human side of town—the one that sold candy—and Lexi had hired Izzy to manage the bakery in the Breed district. Lexi didn’t want to close the candy store, even if it meant having to deal with the IRS.

 

Breed didn’t associate with humans. They established their own banks, bought and leased land, ran their own businesses, and didn’t pay one goddamn dime in taxes. There they were, smack-dab in the middle of the city and off the human radar. But since Lexi had chosen to keep the original store, she needed someone to help sort out quarterly payments, licenses, contracts, and handle number crunching to maximize profits. Austin, his Packmaster and brother, had voluntold him for the job, so it wasn’t like he had a lot of choice in the matter. Wheeler had a professional background in finance and contracts, so there was no getting out of it.

 

Sweet Treats had become a family business for the Weston pack. Three years ago, Lexi had signed a lease in the Breed district to open up the second location, serving pastries and coffee. The bakery made a hell of a profit—more income than they could have ever imagined for a start-up company. Successful establishments were usually restaurants, bars, or clubs, so they capitalized on the absence of specialty shops. Lexi could bake her ass off and had taken several courses at the human college to combine the school’s techniques with her natural abilities. Trevor had even gotten in on the action, playing his acoustic in the back corner whenever it was slow, attracting new customers walking by. His main job, however, was working behind the counter, passing out compliments with the cupcakes. Flirty bastard.

 

Wheeler tapped his shoe against the porch step, swatting at a dizzy gnat. A gust of wind knocked around an old swing hanging from a branch of the oak tree that was about fifty feet ahead to his left. April’s hummingbird feeder in the redbud tree needed a refill. He admired the property spread out before him—over one hundred acres of land with the option to buy more as the Weston pack grew in size. The driveway on his right led to a private road, and there was plenty of room to park their cars. High grass and wildflowers led down to a grove of trees and a shallow creek on his left.

 

“I’ll be back later!” Lexi yelled excitedly as she raced past Wheeler and down the steps.

 

The only thing he caught sight of was her long hair, long legs, and sneakers without socks.

 

Austin swaggered out and leaned over the wooden railing, water dripping from the ends of his dark hair and running down his bare back. “Damn, I love that woman when she’s fired up like that.”

 

“So we all heard last night,” Denver grumbled. He got up from his chair and walked barefoot into the house. April briefly peered over the top of her book before turning the page.

 

The brothers were spaced apart a good deal in years, except for Denver and Austin, who only had fifteen years between them. You’d never guess by their personalities that Denver was the older of the two, not to mention he didn’t look a day over thirty. That’s just how Shifters aged.

 

“Where’s your woman off to?” Wheeler asked, resting his forearms on his knees.

 

Austin scratched his unshaven jaw. “She’s heading out to see that friend of hers, Naya. Lexi wants to do something or other with the menu, and Naya knows someone who designs those things. I don’t think it’s a big mystery to figure out what a bakery sells, but Lexi wants to spend some money on those little paper menus to put in everyone’s bag. Now, whose idea was that?” he asked, glaring down at Wheeler.

 

“Sometimes you have to spend money to make money,” Wheeler said indifferently. “That kind of litter sits around a person’s house and begs them to buy more cookies. You said you wanted my help, so if you got a problem with it—”

 

“No, you’re good.” Austin swept his wet hair back and shook the water from his hands. “But now she’s thinking about redoing the menu and adding things. Whatever she comes up with, I’ll need you to look it over and double-check the cost analysis. She’s stressing herself out over ways to make more money.”

 

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