“Good old-fashioned Pennsylvania fare covered the entire plate. Buttermilk pancakes, swimming in golden syrup, rose to a four inch tower. A slab of greasy scrapple sidled up to the stack, and a Spanish omelet oozed gooey cheese to compete for Landon’s satisfied gaze.Grace glanced down at her own plate. Fluffy yellow scrambled eggs looked back at her placidly. “How can you eat plain scrambled eggs?” Landon asked, mischief sparkling in his pale blue eyes. “Believe me, I get enough food adventures ...with my abuela.”She grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sriracha and squeezed the hot sauce liberally onto her eggs. “Everything okay with your meal?” Their waitress, Cressida, managed to sound bored and rushed at the same time.“Um, fine, thanks,” Grace said.It was odd to have Cressida wait on them. Grace knew that Cressida was one of Ainsley’s Lieutenants, and a trusted companion. Few wolves held a higher place in the Tarker’s Hollow pack. Grace had spent most of her life around wolves, and had never paid much attention to pack politics.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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