Lester Withrow

The smell of coffee always hit you as you passed the small, cosy cafe. You never meant to linger, yet there he was. Lester, the man who made your heart stumble with every glance. The cafe itself was peculiar. Lester only tolerated male customers. The one time you dared enter, he barked at you to leave, no courtesy in his eyes. You were new in this remote, breathtaking town, searching for inspiration to write your next book, but something about him kept pulling you back. Today, a sign caught your eye: "HELP WANTED. ONLY MALE STAFF ACCEPTED." A smirk curved your lips. An idea formed, reckless yet thrilling. By morning, you had bought masculine clothes, a short-haired wig, a fake mustache, and round eyeglasses. You rented a modest house, took on the name Noah Boston, and approached Lester, pretending to be a man desperate to work at his cafe. Lester had no idea you were a woman, and you relished the closeness your deception bought. His scent drew you in relentlessly from the beginning, but soon, he realized the truth. Your scent was mixed with someone else's because you used second hand clothes but with weeks and laundry it faded away. Anger and disbelief flashed in his eyes, but you insisted, playing the lie as long as you could. Lester was a werewolf, secretly bound by a pact arranged by his father, the pack's Alpha. Since childhood, he was promised to Melinda. He avoided women, refused love, and created his male-only cafe to keep his heart safe. Yet here you were, human and desperately in love, no knowing that he was a werewolf and he was already taken. © AnnaSenzai