Page 38 of Frostbite & Mistletoe
“Hey, Gabriel,” Maggie said, straightening.“Something wrong?”
Gabriel didn’t miss the nervous glance she shot at the large commercial ovens standing against the far wall.
“I apologize for interrupting,” Gabriel said, the formality he relied on in uncomfortable social situations taking over.“But I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about Kymberlie and The Hair of the Dog.”
Annabeth and Maggie exchanged looks.“Shifter hearing strikes again,” Annabeth said wryly.
“You have any ideas about how we can help her?” Maggie said, deftly cutting the dough into four equal parts.
Gabriel nodded.“I do. But I’m going to need your help.”
∞∞∞
A knock on her front door startled Kymberlie. She’d been curled on her couch in the same position for hours, staring blankly at the television without registering a single image. Her phone lay face-down on the coffee table, still turned off. She couldn’t bear to turn it back on and face the dozens of voicemail messages and texts that would inevitably be waiting.
She couldn’t deal with people feeling sorry for her.
She hadn’t showered this morning. Hadn’t eaten anything beyond choking down a piece of toast with her coffee. Had barely moved since then except to use the bathroom and refill her mug of tea.
“Kymberlie!” It was Gabriel.Oh, great.“I know you’re in there!”
His knocks turned to insistent pounding.
Should I tell him to go away?
But now that he was here, she didn’t really want him to leave.Besides, I owe him a big apology. Again.
She rolled off the couch and rose to her feet.
She glimpsed herself in the hallway mirror—tangled hair falling to her shoulders, dark circles shadowing her eyes, her face pale and blotchy without her usual makeup. And she was still wearing her flannel pajamas.
She looked exactly like she felt. Utterly defeated.
The knocking continued.
“Coming,” she called, her voice raspy from disuse.
When she pulled open the door, she saw Gabriel on her porch, holding a Cinnamon + Sugar bag in one hand and a cardboard drink carrier in the other. He was clean-shaven and looked disgustingly healthy and alert.
“Hi,” he said simply.“Everyone’s worried about you… especially me.”
Guilt crashed over her like a wave.
The last time she’d seen him, she’d practically bitten his head off, pushing away his comfort and concern with harsh words she couldn’t even remember clearly now. She’d been awful to him, and here he was, bearing gifts.
“Gabriel, I’m so sorry—”
Before she could finish, he stepped forward, balancing the coffee carrier in one hand as he pulled her against his chest and kissed her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth where she was stammering out her apology.
“Don’t,” he whispered against her skin.“It’s okay. I understand.”
For a moment, she just let herself be held, breathing in his clean scent and the tinge of feline musk that was uniquely Gabriel. His solid warmth felt like the only real thing in the world right now.
“I brought an offering,” he said finally, pulling back just enough to hold up the cup and the bag.“Large gingerbread latte with extra whipped cream and a chocolate croissant from Cinnamon + Sugar.”
Warmth rushed through her, and her eyes prickled with sudden tears.“You remembered.”
“I remember everything about you,” he replied, with such earnest intensity that her wolf wriggled and wagged its tail in delight.
