Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
As Brie turned around, a man stepped through the bakery doorway. Her bear sat up immediately, her skin prickling with warmth. Hunter Wolf.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
The late morning light streamed in around him as his broad shoulders nearly filled the doorframe. His black henley stretched across his muscled chest, and his penetrating blue eyes scanned her bakery. Everything about him radiated controlled power.
Her heart leaped and then it sank. It had been two weeks since the worst experience of her life. Finding she’d been matched with Hunter Wolf on that day had felt like fate was throwing her a lifeline, and she’d expected him to respond to her message right away. But he hadn’t.
She’d checked her phone obsessively at first. Then less frequently as hope curdled into pain.
Had he taken one look at her profile and decided she was unworthy of even a reply?
Now he was here, close enough that she could see the exact shade of his eyes, and she couldn’t help but feel the hurt all over again.
“Excuse me, miss? We’re ready when you are.”
The couple at the counter smiled patiently. Brie blinked, forcing herself back to the present.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” She turned to them and smiled politely. “What can I get you?”
“Two apple tarts and two house coffees, please,” the woman said. “Smells wonderful in here.”
“Thank you.” Brie’s hands moved on autopilot.
She grabbed two small plates from the stack and transferred apple tarts with tongs.
She moved to the coffee station, filling two ceramic mugs with the dark roast blend.
In her peripheral vision, she watched Hunter Wolf step away from the door and position himself by the window, waiting.
She handed the couple their change and managed a smile as they turned to sit down. She then watched Hunter Wolf approach the counter. He moved like her father did, with a military baring that never quite left.
Up close, she could smell him clearly now. Pine and leather, gun oil and whiskey, and underneath it, a scent that made her bear purr. Her throat felt tight.
“Ms. Rayner?” His voice was deep, controlled, and careful.
Exactly as she’d imagined during those late-night phone checks.
It rumbled through her chest like distant thunder.
“I’m Hunter Cruz with Steel Protection. I was hoping I could speak with you about the incident in the industrial district two weeks ago. ”
Steel Protection. She knew the name. It was the security firm owned by Dominic Steel, Valeria Reynolds’ mate. Hunter was here on official business that had nothing to do with their match.
“Oh.” The word came out weaker than intended. She cleared her throat, hating how his presence made her feel small and off-balance in her own space. “Detective Reynolds said he was handling it.”
“Reynolds is handling it, but he passed on the information to my alpha, Dom.” He kept his voice low, professional. “I’m working a related matter and thought you might be able to help fill in some details. I know this must be a difficult subject.”
Behind Hunter, a regular customer approached the counter.
Brie’s hands moved automatically as she filled his order.
A blueberry muffin and a large house coffee to go.
Her body performed the familiar dance while her mind spun.
The man she’d spent two weeks thinking about was standing three feet away.
And he was asking about the worst day of her life like she was just another name on a list.
“Hey, Brie.” The regular’s voice was warm with familiarity. “Busy morning?”
“The usual.” She managed a normal smile, though it felt brittle.
The regular paid for his order, nodded politely to Hunter, and headed out the door.
Hunter waited until the customer was gone, then returned his attention to Brie.
His eyes held an intensity that made her stomach flip.
When he leaned forward slightly, she caught a glimpse of something at his collar.
It was the edge of a tattoo, black ink against tanned skin.
Military? Pack? She had a wild urge to pull his collar aside and look.
“I realize this isn’t the ideal place for this conversation. Is there somewhere private we could talk?”
The request was reasonable. Professional.
Exactly what any investigator would ask.
But Brie felt each word like a small wound.
He should have been asking to talk to her because she was his mate, because he’d finally read her message, because he wanted to know her.
Because her profile photo had kept him up at night, the way his had haunted her dreams.
Instead, she was just a witness.
“I…” She stopped, swallowed past the tightness in her throat, tried again. “Yes, of course. Follow me.”
Her bear whined at the formal distance in her own voice, wanting to be closer to him, to press against all that solid strength. But her human heart felt bruised from all those nights wondering why he hadn’t responded.
“Sophie?” She called toward the kitchen, proud when her voice came out steady. “Could you watch the counter for a few minutes?”
Sophie appeared, dish towel slung over her shoulder, flour still dusting her forearms. “Sure thing, boss.”
She looked back at Hunter, whose eyes were watching her with an intensity that made heat crawl up her neck. Even standing still, he was an apex predator barely contained in civilian clothing. “My office is this way.”
As she led him through the kitchen, Maggie looked up from piping frosting roses with obvious curiosity. Her eyes went wide as she took in Hunter, all six-plus feet of dangerous male following their boss. Brie gave her a small head shake and continued to the back hallway.
The space felt too narrow with Hunter behind her. She was acutely aware of every step, every breath, every inch between them. She could feel the heat radiating from his body in the confined space. Her bear wanted to turn around, to press against him, to claim what fate had marked as hers.
The hallway walls held photos from the bakery’s history. Her mother’s grand opening, Brie’s first solo wedding cake, last year’s Winter Festival. Her achievements, her life, things that meant everything to her.
Her office door had a small nameplate: “Brie Rayner, Owner.” She’d been so proud when she’d had it made after her parents left for their trip.
She opened the door and gestured him inside. “Please, come in.”
Brie closed the door with a soft click. Her heart hammered against her ribs as they sat across from each other. This close, in the confined space, his scent wrapped around her like a warm sweater, and her bear howled with need.
Fate, she decided, had a terrible sense of timing.