Page 37 of Frostbite & Mistletoe
She needs space, he told himself for the hundredth time. But his every instinct screamed at him to go to her, to protect her, to fix what was broken.
Gabriel grabbed his keys from the hook by the door. He couldn’t fix what had happened, but he could at least make sure she wasn’t going through this alone. He’d already figured out she was too proud to accept pity.
So, I’ll just have to give her an excuse to let me in…
Twenty-five minutes later, he reached downtown Bearpaw Ridge, parked, and walked into Cinnamon + Sugar. The old-fashioned bell attached to the door jingled overhead, announcing his arrival. The welcoming scents of fresh pastries and brewing espresso enveloped him.
The bakery was moderately busy for a weekday afternoon. A couple of tables were occupied by locals nursing coffee and reading, while three customers lined up at the counter. Gabriel took his place at the end of the queue. While he waited, he scanned the glass-fronted display cases for Kymberlie’s favorite—the chocolate croissant that she’d described as“almost better than sex.”
“Hi, Gabriel,” Violet Tringstad, Kymberlie’s younger sister, greeted him from behind the counter. Her blue hair was tucked up under a Cinnamon + Sugar baseball cap, and she wore a neat brown apron embroidered with the bakery’s pink teddy bear logo in pink thread.“Your usual?”
“Not today,” Gabriel replied.“I’d like a chocolate croissant and a large gingerbread latte with extra whipped cream to go.”
Violet’s expression shifted as she recognized the order. Understanding dawned in her eyes.“For Kymber?”
“Yup. Have you talked to her today?” he asked.
“No,” Violet admitted, looking worried as she reached for a tall to-go cup.“She’s been ignoring everyone’s texts and calls. Mom and Dad are freaking out, but you know Kymber—she hates looking weak in front of anyone.”
Gabriel nodded. He wondered if Kymberlie would continue to let her pride isolate her from the people who loved and supported her.
As Violet prepared the latte, Gabriel noticed hushed voices coming from the door behind the counter that led to the bakery. He recognized Maggie Swanson’s voice immediately.
“…don’t know what she’s going to do, Mom. Her insurance policy didn’t even cover half the repairs, and now the Hartmann-Koenig cancellation is going to kill what’s left of her business.”
Gabriel froze, his enhanced hearing picking up every word despite the loud hiss of the espresso machine and background chatter of the café’s other customers.
“That poor girl,” came Annabeth Swanson’s softer voice.“All that hard work, and now this. Does she have any savings to fall back on?”
“Not anymore,” Maggie replied, her voice tight with concern.“She put everything she had into fixing up the club, and now this happens? It’s just notfair. Everyone remembers what a dump that place used to be. She’s worked her ass off to make it a place you want to go to.”
Gabriel’s stomach clenched.
“The worst part is that The Hair of the Dog was just starting to turn a real profit,” Maggie continued.“She told me a few weeks ago that without that wedding reception, there was no way she can afford to reopen. Her place is probably going to close for good.”
The words hit Gabriel like a physical blow.
“We can’t let that happen,” Annabeth said firmly.“She’s worked too hard to lose everything because of that fire.”
Gabriel’s inner cat growled. He barely kept the sound from escaping his human throat. He knewintimatelythe special hell of the whispers, the pity, the slow erasure of everything you’d built.
I can’t let that happen to my mate.
The realization slammed into him with such certainty that it momentarily took his breath away. His cat had recognized it from their first meeting, but now his human side caught up with crystal clarity: Kymberlie Tringstad was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and every fiber of his being rebelled against the thought of just standing by while she was in trouble.
Especially when he had, however indirectly, contributed to her current difficulties.
Guilt coiled in his gut like a living thing. He’d only been doing his job, protecting people the only way he knew how. But in trying to prevent one tragedy, he’d helped set the stage for another.
Gabriel slipped behind the counter.“Gotta talk to Maggie about something,” he told Violet.
The conversation inside the bakery kitchen abruptly ceased.
“Come in,” called Maggie.
Gabriel walked through the swinging door, revealing a large, high-ceilinged room crammed with appliances.
Maggie and her mother stood around a large stainless steel worktable. Maggie’s hands were buried in a mound of raisin-studded dough, while Annabeth, her silver-frosted red hair tucked up under a turquoise blue chef’s cap, was decorating a tray of cupcakes with a piping bag filled with snowy white frosting. Both women looked surprised to see him.
