Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Kymberlie’s boots squelched across the soaked carpet as she trailed Gabriel through the remains of her club.
Despite the disaster hanging over her head, she couldn’t help noticing he had a nice ass. And shoulders a mile wide.
Her inner wolf spoke up unexpectedly. He smells good. And he’s interested in us. You should let him court us.
In daylight, the damage looked even worse than it had last night. The acrid stench of smoke clung to everything—the walls, the bar, her clothes, her hair.
Beneath it ran Gabriel’s scent—clean, musky, with the intriguing scent of big cat. Before she went home last night, someone had told her that Gabriel was the newest member of the Cougar Lake Sabertooth Pride, headquartered in nearby Bearpaw Springs.
Kymberlie forgot about Gabriel at the sight of the water damage darkening her walls and ceiling, the thick layer of soot coating her furniture and the wide granite bar top, and the ugly black scorch marks crawling down the hall from where the fire had started.
The flames had ruined the back of her club, but the heavy smoke and the water from the fire hoses had ruined everything else.
The sick feeling that had started in her gut last night intensified. She’d barely slept a wink as the events replayed in her head on a nonstop loop.
The Hair of the Dog looks like hell, but at least it’s still standing, she tried to console herself. It could have been so much worse.
She watched Gabriel inspect every inch of the damage zone.
For a big man, he moved with surprising grace—his broad shoulders shifting beneath his navy uniform shirt as he bent to examine the scorched electrical panel in the storeroom where the fire had started.
His golden-amber eyes narrowed in concentration, and Kymberlie found herself oddly mesmerized by the intensity of his focus.
Until he started writing.
Each scratch of his pen across his citation pad sent a fresh wave of dread through her stomach. The more he wrote, the more money it would cost her.
Money she didn’t have right now.
“This panel hasn’t been up to code in at least thirty years,” Gabriel said, not looking up from his clipboard. “The previous owner installed it himself, I’m guessing? I’m no electrician, but even I can see it’s an amateur job, dangerous wiring, and I’m betting he never pulled a permit.”
Kymberlie bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe. I bought the place five years ago.”
“Did you get an inspection before purchase?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, remembering how the late Jack Tringstad, her great-uncle and city building inspector, had breezed through the club in under an hour, pointing a few things before giving her a thumbs-up and refusing the payment she’d offered him.
“He said everything looked good, and he passed me.”
Gabriel’s dark gold brows shot up. “Are you kidding me? What about the fire marshal walk-through?”
“Um… the inspector said I didn’t need one?” Kymberlie said in a small voice.
At the time, she’d been relieved by Great-Uncle Jack’s wink and nod.
Now, she wondered what else he’d let slide out of consideration for a struggling new business owner and fellow pack member.
Gabriel scowled, muttered something under his breath, and made another note.
“Most of your extinguishers are expired,” he continued, walking to the wall where a red canister hung. “This one’s from ten years ago.”
Kymberlie hadn’t even thought to check the dates. She mentally calculated the cost of replacing all the club’s extinguishers and winced.
Gabriel strode back into the main room and headed for the emergency exit next to the stage. He planted both hands against the push bar and gave a deliberately weak shove. The door made a loud scraping sound but barely moved.
“And this is a death trap for ordinary humans,” he said flatly.
Kymberlie realized with a sinking feeling that, because she and her staff were all wolf shifters with shifter strength, it had seemed the door only stuck a bit.
Inconvenient, but not a big deal. It was on her list to fix, but hadn’t seemed super-urgent
“For an Ordinary, this would be impossible to open in an emergency,” Gabriel continued. “And I saw the exit in your kitchen is blocked by stacked crates on the outside. That’s a major violation.”
He turned back to her, his expression grim. “You also don’t have enough exits for your occupancy rating. How many people do you typically have in here on a weekend night?”
“Two hundred, maybe two-fifty on a good night,” she answered.
He shot her an incredulous look. “With your square footage and current exit capacity, you should be limited to one hundred twenty-five, max.”
Another note. Another blow to her income.
“Look, I get it,” Kymberlie said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “There are problems. I’ll fix everything. Just tell me what you suggest I tackle first, and I’ll get started right away.”
Gabriel’s pen paused mid-stroke. Her voice and her scent must have betrayed her growing panic.
“Ms. Tringstad—”
“Kymberlie,” she corrected automatically.
“Kymberlie,” he repeated, and she hated how her name in his deep voice sent a tingle down her spine. “These aren’t suggestions. These are serious code violations. Life-endangering safety issues.”
“I understand that, and I’m not arguing with you.” She held her hands up in surrender. “I’m just asking for a list so I can prioritize repairs.”
He hesitated, his green-gold eyes studying her for a long moment. Kymberlie tried to appear calm, reasonable, cooperative—anything to avoid what she feared was coming next.
“I’ll provide you with a full list, of course,” Gabriel finally said, turning to a fresh page on his clipboard.
“But you need to understand something.” He looked up, meeting her eyes with a sympathetic expression.
“I’m issuing an Order to Vacate. The Hair of the Dog cannot reopen until all the safety violations are corrected and reinspected. ”
“What?” The words hit her like a physical blow. “You’re shutting me down? Completely?”
His expression shuttered. “Yes. This building is unsafe to occupy in its current condition.”
Kymberlie’s face heated as panic surged through her. “For how long?”
“Until the violations are fixed and I’ve reinspected the premises.”
She did some quick mental math. Even if her insurance company sent her money right away, it would probably take months to get contractors in, pull permits, and complete the work.
I can’t stay closed for months. I just can’t.
“Gabriel, please understand,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level.
“I already had to cancel tonight’s live music booking and refund the band and everyone who bought advance tickets.
And I have three big holiday parties booked in the next three weeks.
And then there’s my biggest event of the year, a wedding reception on Christmas Eve.
The couple already paid me a big deposit. ”
Gabriel’s expression remained impassive. “I understand how difficult this is for you, but—”
“No, you don’t fucking understand,” Kymberlie cut in, desperation fueling her temper.
“You don’t understand at all. This club is my livelihood.
If I have to cancel everything, I’ll lose at least twenty grand, maybe even thirty grand.
Or more.” She stepped closer to him, panic making her bold.
“Look, what if I fix the doors on Monday? Or I can hire shifter security guards to monitor the exits and make sure nothing blocks them. And I’ll replace the extinguishers today. ”
His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way.”
“Please,” she pressed. “Just let me stay open until Christmas. That’s all I’m asking for, so I don’t have to cancel the wedding reception or lay off my employees just before the holiday. Then I’ll shut down for as long as it takes to fix everything.”
She desperately hoped that Tyler over at Swanson Construction could fix up the water and smoke damage to her dining room and bar before the first holiday party next weekend.
Gabriel shook his head. She sensed his patience wearing thin. “It’s a miracle no one was killed last night. With half of your exits blocked or malfunctioning, people could have died, Kymberlie.”
The blunt assessment stung, partly because she knew he was right.
“I don’t write the fire safety codes,” he continued. “But I believe in them. They protect people’s lives.”
“No, you don’t make the rules,” she snapped, her wolf surging forward, bristling at his tone. “But you sure seem to enjoy enforcing them.”
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Gabriel’s expression hardened, his eyes flashing with something dangerous.
“Enjoy?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a low rumble that made the hair on her arms stand up. “You think I enjoy shutting down businesses? You think I get some kind of satisfaction from this?”
He stepped closer, and Kymberlie was suddenly hyper-aware of how much larger he was. His powerful frame towered over her. Not that she was intimidated. Her wolf could handle herself. A completely inappropriate thrill shot down her spine as he leaned in and his clean, musky scent washed over her.
“I’ve seen what happens when places like this burn with people inside,” he said, his voice tight with controlled emotion.
“I’ve pulled bodies from the rubble. So, no, I don’t fucking enjoy this part of my job.
But I do it because it’s my duty to make sure that preventable tragedies don’t happen here. ”
They stood locked in a silent standoff, faces inches apart. Kymberlie’s heart hammered against her ribs, and she wasn’t sure if it was anger or attraction that made her breath catch. It made her wolf sit up and take notice—and not in a hostile way.
“I’ll have the paperwork ready for you to sign in an hour,” Gabriel finally said, breaking the charged silence. “And you’ll need to post the closure notices immediately on all your doors and windows.”