Resisting the muscle memory that demanded he pull the bike into its usual parking spot in front of the parish hall, he parked in front of Boone’s Hardware and Dry Goods. He picked at his damp shirt and sauntered into the store, with its strange collection of tools, hardware, pixie traps, and bottles of toadstool remover. Waving to Burton Boone, a stooped, ancient dragon-shifter with mutton-chop sideburns meant to hide his abundance of ear hair, Zed searched the plumbing section to replace the supplies he’d damaged. He crouched in front of a display of couplers, trying to remember the size he needed.

“I thought you’d already bought the supplies to fix Miss Lottie’s shower,” Bael said.

Zed jumped slightly and glared up at his closest friend in the world, who happened to be leaning against a rack of wrenches, his arms crossed over his tan uniform shirt. Zed prided himself on his senses, his ability to keep track of any predators that might try to sneak up on him. But dragons had almost no natural scent, and they moved as quietly as death. “Couillon! You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Watch your language in my shop, Mayor Berend!” Burton yelled from the front of the shop.

Bael scoffed at him. “You hate that I’m able to do that.”

“That, too,” Zed admitted, standing from his crouch. “I thought you were writing tickets out by the school this morning.”

“Eh, I caught Emily McAinsley speeding on her way to the yarn store again and we were both so traumatized by our last experience that I decided to call it a day.”

Zed gave a sage nod. “Probably for the best.”

“So what happened to the pipes you bought already? You step on ‘em and turn them into U’s?” Bael grinned.

Zed winced, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was just kidding!” Bael cried. “What did you do?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Did you break anything that was meant to hold up the house, that’s all I want to know. If it collapses, I’ll have to fill out a shit-ton of paperwork . . . Wait.” Bael stepped closer, sniffing lightly. “You smell like Jillian. Did she drop by the house?”

“Bael, you’re my best friend, but please don’t smell me. We’ve talked about this.”

Bael shrugged. “When you have a mate, you’ll understand.”

“I doubt it. A lot,” Zed told him. “But yeah, she drove that new League consultant by the house to show her around.”

“The dark-haired one? Dani? With the, uh…?” Bael paused to find the right word.

“Really nice llamas?” Zed suggested.

Bael nodded emphatically. “That’s the one.”

Zed’s dark brows rose and Bael jerked his shoulders. “I’m happily mated, not blind.”