4. Zander
Chapter Four
ZANDER
Flint claps my shoulder. “If you yawn one more time, probie, I’m going to toss you into that snowdrift.”
“You can try, old man. But you’re gonna put that ancient back of yours out again if you try. We’ll have to pack you away with those broken hoses.” I stare at him until he cracks up laughing.
I spent another night in my truck, keeping a close watch on Kyla’s store. There was no way I’d leave her unprotected last night. The sheriff’s department has checked out the scratches on the lock and said they’d keep an eye on her store today.
Halfway through my shift, my mind keeps returning to Kyla. The soft press of her lips on mine yesterday, her curves pressing against the hard lines of my body, and the hypnotizingly sweet scent of her hair.
There are no calls and the station is quiet. My phone sits silently on the station's kitchen counter while I reorganize equipment and do some filing. Chief Brock shoots me a curious look.
“Text your girl,” he says, passing me a fresh cup of coffee. “Opening day's got to be stressful.”
When I pick up my phone, there's already a message from Kyla:
Kyla: First morning rush survived! Stop by after your shift? I'll save you something special.
The rest of my shift crawls by. By five, I'm heading across the town square. The late afternoon air is sharp and cold. Cookie Corner's windows glow warm and cozy against the darkening sky.
Kyla’s moving between her ovens at the back, her dark hair escaping from its bun. The sight makes something in my chest tighten. But as I get closer, I frown. The front door is slightly ajar, letting a steady stream of snowflakes into the store.
My training kicks in. Pushing the door open, I scan the room. “Kyla? Everything okay?”
She appears in the kitchen doorway, a smudge of flour on her cheek. Her eyes widen and then her voice cracks. “That door was locked. I know it was locked.”
I'm already moving, checking the lock. Deep scratches mar the brass, similar to the ones we found on the back door, but more aggressive. “When did you notice?”
She shivers. “Just now. I've been in the kitchen prepping tomorrow's dough, I was on speakerphone to a supplier. It's like someone just... wanted me to know they could get in.”
The implications hit me hard; this isn't random. Someone's targeting her specifically.
“I’m calling the sheriff.” I reach for my phone, but Kyla catches my arm.
Her fingers are small and warm. “There's something else.”
She leads me to the display case. A red-glazed cookie sits on its own, placed deliberately in the center of the display.
“I didn't make these today. I haven't made them at all.” Her voice is a whisper.
I pick up the cookie. It looks like it’s been varnished. “Talk to me, Kyla. What's really going on?”
When she looks up, there are tears in her eyes. “Remember when I said I left some drama behind in Pinebury?”
“An ex?”
She nods. “Trevor. We went out last year for a couple of months. It was moving too fast. He wanted me to move in with him. I said no. He started insisting…it was too much. He didn’t take the breakup well. One of the reasons I wanted to leave. I’ve been telling him for months and months I’m not interested. He kept on turning up at the café where I worked, standing outside my house at night. But he's not supposed to know I’m here. I was so careful…”
The timer dings, making her jump. Kyla pulls away, wiping her eyes. “I need to check the oven.”
I catch her hand. “This is more important.”
“No. I'm not letting him ruin this too. My first day was perfect until now. I sold out of almost everything.”
I run my thumb across her fingers and she gives me a shaky smile. “Stay with me while I finish cleaning up? Then we can call the sheriff.”
Kyla moves around her kitchen, determined despite her fear.
“I'm not going anywhere,” I promise.
She walks to the kitchen, pulling out the last tray of cookies. I walk to the door, arms crossed, scanning the outside. If her ex is outside, I want him to know I’m right here with her. If that asshole tries anything, he’ll have to come through me first. I keep one eye on the gorgeous girl who's quickly becoming the most important person in my world.
The red-glazed cookie sits between us like a warning. I walk over to the cabinet and take it out, then walk back to the door. I hold out my hand, crushing the cookie in my fist. Varnished or not, it crumbles into dust on the snow outside.