Free Of Cocoa and Men 01 by Vic Winter

Of Cocoa and Men
    By Vic Winter
    At First Sight
    Dayton slunk into The Silver Kitchen Diner and took a booth at the far end, his back to the wall. It was late, or rather very early -- not quite four a.m., and the only other patrons in the place were the deputy on duty sitting at the counter and flirting with Betsy as he drank his coffee, and the old guy with the crazy gray whiskers who sat in one of the booths most nights, drinking cup after cup of the high octane mix they called coffee here, complaining of insomnia.
    Betsy left her post behind the counter with a flirty smile for the deputy, her coffee pot in hand. Like the diner itself, Betsy never changed. Her brown uniform with the odd green piping fit exactly the same over her too thin frame as it had the first day he’d come in. That had been the day he’d turned eighteen and he’d left the pack land like his feet were on fire. He was a little older now, but he still was a lone wolf, separate from the pack.
    “Coffee?” She hefted the pot toward the thick, ceramic mug in front of Dayton and he shook his head, turned the cup over so she couldn’t fill it; he knew from experience that just saying, “no” wasn’t enough -- the woman had mad skills with her coffee pot. She raised an eyebrow at him, her question clear.
    “Hot chocolate, with whipped cream on top.” Like it was ever anything else when it wasn’t coffee.
    Her other eyebrow went up to join the first. “You sure?”
    He growled at her, letting his teeth show. What he did or did not eat -- drink, whatever -- was none of her business. Of course, try telling that to anyone in a small town and they’d keep on sticking their nose in regardless. It was why he did his man-trolling outside the town limits. Way outside. “I asked for it, didn’t I?”
    She shrugged, clearly unimpressed with his attitude. “You did. You want a slice of chocolate pie with that, too, or how about some chocolate pudding? Maybe a brownie with chocolate ice cream and fudge sauce?”
    He shook his head. “Just the drink.” He was jonesing for the sweet, cocoa-y stuff, but that didn’t mean he was going to gorge on it. Of course, even just the drink was more than he should have. Canines and chocolate just didn’t mix. He loved the stuff, though; he was addicted to it. Besides, it hadn’t killed him yet. Most times it barely even gave him a stomachache anymore, and he had a healthy stock of Tums in his pocket, even more in the saddle bag on his Hog.
    “You sure now?” Betsy was clearly bored if she was messing with him instead of clearing off to get him his hot chocolate. Of course it was old Deputy Benjamin on duty tonight and not the young buck Sheriff Bingham had somehow conned into joining his force a year or so ago. Betsy wasn’t so quick with the coffee pot or the butting her nose in when Deputy Steve was on duty.
    Dayton stared her down. He was a werewolf -- he had a hell of a stare. It didn’t hurt that they were coming up to the full moon, too, making the beast very close to the surface.
    Betsy finally backed down. Sort of. “How about some marshmallows?”
    He made a face and replied curtly. “No.” Marshmallows were disgusting bits of pure sugar. Overly sweet and stale, they did nothing but dilute his hot chocolate. Whipping cream, on the other hand, added to the richness of it.
    “Whatever.” She headed back to the counter via Insomnia Guy, pouring the last of the sludge from her pot into his coffee cup.
    The old dude giggled as he thanked her, the sound more than half crazy. The guy needed a new hobby, Dayton figured as he picked at the chipped Formica in front of him. Of course, so did he.
    If he didn’t want the chocolate so badly, he wouldn’t stay. But he did.
    Dayton had two weaknesses, and neither of them were things that a wolf should want. Chocolate and men. Human men. Tonight he’d tried indulging in the latter, only to be shot down by a pretty little cock-tease who’d gotten him all riled up