Chapter Eight
They were still twined together, her leg hooked around his, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. Gabe couldn’t remember a time he felt this…at peace.
Felicity turned her head and murmured against his skin. “I’m getting really hungry staring at all these cookbooks.”
A laugh rumbled up from someplace he’d forgotten existed inside himself, and he tightened his hold on her. Her laugh was low and warm, and all he could think about was the way she’d sounded ten minutes ago—breathless and pleading.
For all he cared, the cookbook section could burn down. The only thing that mattered was Felicity in his arms and the thump of his pulse in his veins. He didn’t know if he’d ever get the sound of her coming apart for him out of his head. God, he never wanted to.
He trailed his fingers down her spine, still hard from the feel of her silky skin and the fall of her hair across his chest. He wasn’t new to women, but this—her—it felt different.
Like she’d cracked open a part of him that was closed for a long time.
Like she’d reached past all the armor and found the restless parts he never allowed anyone to see.
She was so perfect wrapped in his arms, hair messy from his fingers and her lips swollen from his kisses.
He brushed his mouth across her temple because if he didn’t touch her, he’d combust. “We’d better eat then.” His voice was grittier than he meant it to be. “What are you hungry for?”
“Lunch. A big one. Before I pass out.”
While he felt a ripple of pride that he might be the cause of her big appetite, he hungered for the way she’d looked at him right before she flew apart in his arms.
They washed up and dressed in the small bathroom. He was shocked to find that the criminal had even dumped the cleaning items out from the vanity cabinet.
As he tugged his shirt over his head, their gazes caught and they exchanged a shy smile that made him feel like a damn teenager. When she brushed her hair back into place, their gazes held again, and another beat throbbed between them.
He didn’t have words for the sensation in his chest. Only knew that he’d never had it with anyone.
Her phone buzzed, and she took a moment to read a text, biting down on her plump bottom lip. The habit was so Felicity when she was deep in thought that it made him want to ravish those lips again.
“It’s from my bookshop girls—Rina and Mina. Daily check-in.”
“Everything okay?” He drifted closer.
“Yes. They called early this morning. They passed by the window and saw the wreck inside and they were so upset. I told them everything.”
He touched her elbow, just a graze of his fingers, but she seemed to relax a little.
“Come on. If I’m crying, it’s going to be over a cheeseburger.”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
As they reached the back door to leave for lunch, she smoothed her shirt again. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You look perfect.” He meant it. Hell, he meant every word he said to her. That alone should’ve scared him.
What scared him more was how she lit up when he said it.
They stepped out of the shop…and stopped.
Her car door was slightly ajar. Not wide, but obvious. All wrong. His instincts locked in.
He stepped in front of her, shielding her although there didn’t appear to be any threat in sight. “Stay here.”
She didn’t listen. Rushing past him, she reached the car and whipped the door open all the way.
“The journal! Gabe, it’s gone!”
Pain rang in her voice.
He moved up beside her. “You left it on the seat?” He scanned the nearby alley, the dumpster…the shadows.
“Yes. I never lock the car. This is a small town. Nobody would steal a worthless journal!”
He had to agree. Unless it wasn’t worthless.
He slipped a hand to the small of her back. “Call the cops. I’ll take a look around in case they ditched the journal.”
Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone. He checked again to ensure she was safe while he prowled the parking lot, searching for the journal. Under the faint whistle of the wind and a few cars whirring by on Main Street, he heard Felicity trying to sound calm for the dispatcher.
It made his chest coil with fierce protectiveness. She shouldn’t have to be calm. She should get to be as upset as she wanted.
The fact that just half an hour ago, they’d been lost in each other while just outside someone broke into her car made his fists curl.
Unable to spot more than a few pieces of litter blown in from the street, he returned to her side.
She gripped her phone in her hand, waiting. The police station was a mere three blocks away. But no sirens blared.
The alley ran behind Felicity’s shop and several others, all the way to the police station. Their parking lot was full of cruisers. Not one was out on patrol.
His jaw flexed.
“Call them again.”
Her blue eyes flicked up to his and she gave a jerky nod before dialing a second time.
Again, she conveyed her information to the dispatcher, her tone edged with impatience. “What’s the holdup? I’m three blocks away.”
Gabe growled. “Tell them to put down the donuts. We know they’re not busy locking up criminals.”
She listened to the person on the line for a moment before thanking them and ending the call. “They’re coming.”
“I’m calling Carson.” He brought his phone to his ear and had his boss man on the line in less than three heartbeats—his response time much better than the Willowbrook PD.
As soon as Carson answered, Gabe burst out, “Someone broke into Felicity’s car.”
“Goddammit. This is escalating. Did they take anything this time?”
“A journal. The one I mentioned to you this morning.”
“The one in the box of books.”
“Yes.” He clenched his jaw and looked toward the police station once more. “I have serious doubts about the Willowbrook PD.”
“Same. But that’s why she has you. What about the floodlight cam you just installed? Did it pick up anything?”
He put Carson on speaker so he could check the app. If there was a notification of movement behind the building, he hadn’t received it. They were busy. With the…books.
He opened the footage and froze. “Dammit.”
“What is it?” She leaned into him to see his screen.
“A twelve-second blackout in the footage. The feed dropped.” Static sizzled on the screen before coming back on, crystal clear and revealing absolutely nothing. “Somebody killed the signal when they were at the car. They knew what they were doing.”
“Gabe.” Felicity drifted close to him. “I don’t like this.”
He slid an arm around her, anchoring her against him. Tires ground through the small alleyway and a police cruiser rolled into the parking lot. Two officers climbed out and strolled up to him and Felicity as if they were there to pick up dry cleaning on a dull Tuesday morning.
“We received a call about a car break-in?” The older officer sidled over, pulling out a notepad.
“Someone broke into my car. The door was hanging open.”
“You didn’t leave it open by accident?”
“I drove here from the Black Heart Ranch, where I’ve been staying. I’m sure I did not.”
“She closed it.” Gabe stepped up beside her and faced down the cop.
A younger officer rounded her small SUV, inspecting the exterior. Gabe glanced at the name on his badge. Smallwood.
Let’s hope Smallwood is more personable than this guy.
“Is anything missing from your car?”
“A journal.”
They traded a look. “Someone stole your journal,” the older one said blandly, clicking his pen to jot the note.
“Not my journal,” she snapped with a flash of irritation in her eyes.
“So you didn’t pay for the journal?”
Gabe took a step forward, barely leashed. “What the hell does that matter?”
“Value assessment.” He arched a brow at Felicity.
“It has value to me.”
“How much is the journal worth, Ms. St. James?”
“Five dollars,” she bit off, rolling her eyes so hard he thought she might pull something.
Smallwood continued to circle the vehicle while the other one scribbled a few notes.
“That’s all we need for now. We’ll be in touch with you.” The officers climbed back into the cruiser. As soon as they were out of earshot, Felicity rounded on Gabe with a groan.
“They didn’t do anything! They didn’t—”
Suddenly, a woman appeared, crossing the parking lot wearing loose pants and a top with the sleeves rolled to her elbows with an apron over it.
He placed a hand on Felicity’s arm and nodded toward the woman. Her mouth snapped shut.
“Vera.” The way she said the name made Gabe’s neck prickle as they both swung to face the woman.
“Who’s Vera?” he murmured from the corner of his mouth.
“She owns the bakery.”
The woman’s graying hair swirled in the breeze, lifting the short strands around her face. Gabe studied the expression of concern that was a bit too practiced and the way she drew one corner of her mouth downward.
“Oh my dear Felicity. Is everything all right? I saw the police pull in. Was your shop broken into again?” She clutched a brown paper bag in her hand with the bakery’s logo on the front.
Felicity visibly composed herself, dropping her shoulders and replacing the fuming look on her face with one that was more neutral. “No. My shop is the same.”
“Oh. Well.” She lifted the bag. “I brought you a brownie.” Her attention darted to Gabe. “If I’d known someone else was here, I’d have brought two.” Her gaze slid over him like she was measuring him for gossip fodder.
Felicity accepted the bag with a strained smile. “Thank you. We’ll split it.”
Vera stood there, looking between them as if waiting for introductions. Gabe didn’t offer his name.
She waved a hand toward the bag. “And there’s a flyer for Mayfest inside. Are you doing it this year? Your shop doesn’t look like it’s doing very well.”
Gabe’s muscles locked, and he felt Felicity pull in a breath. Then felt the bigger effort it took her to smile.
“I’ve got a plan in the works.”
The woman’s nod had a touch of sympathy, but her eyes gleamed in a way that made Gabe spit nails.
He knew the type. Town gossip snooping under the guise of concern.