Chapter 28
By four in the afternoon, the bakery repairs were nearly complete. Cara restocked the espresso station, forcing herself to focus on the simple, physical rhythm of the work instead of the fact that she’d woken up this morning to the sound of Gabe Sawyer showering in her bathroom.
She’d spent the night under the same roof as an FBI agent—one she was starting to have complicated feelings for. Not exactly the way she’d planned for any of this to go.
Something had shifted when he’d insisted on staying.
The protective instinct should have felt patronizing.
Instead, it had felt like safety. Like someone actually cared whether she lived or died.
That was dangerous territory for a woman who couldn’t afford to get close to anyone—especially not a federal agent who was getting far too good at reading the skills she worked so hard to hide.
She’d emerged from her bedroom to find him disturbingly attractive after a shower and shave, wearing jeans and a henley that showed exactly how well he kept in shape. She’d handed him coffee without speaking because words suddenly felt too intimate.
Cara shoved a sheet pan into its slot harder than necessary and dragged herself back to the present.
The team had gathered again without being asked. Tom and Piper cleaned up tools while Wade made final adjustments to her new security system. Reagan organized serving trays in the repaired glass cabinet with her usual flair. The only one missing was Piper.
“She’s not happy with me right now,” Tom had admitted. “But she’s already missed too much school. I had to promise we wouldn’t get too… ‘action hero’ without her.” He made air quotes around the last few words.
Wade laughed. “Girl’s gonna be a handful, Nakamura.”
“Going to be?” Tom shook his head, looking dazed. “She’s been kicking my butt since the day she was born.”
Gabe lifted a hand, his voice carrying across the bakery. “I made a command decision about tonight. I’m going alone.”
Reagan popped her head out of the pastry case. “Speaking of action heroes….”
Cara’s hands tightened around the espresso cup. “Absolutely not.” The words came out before she could stop them—sharp, certain. She set the cup down and crossed her arms. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.” His jaw set as his gaze swept the room. “None of you are.”
“Gabe—”
“I’m not debating this.”
Anger flared in her chest, hot and sudden. It made no sense, but she felt abandoned. “You don’t get to shut me out after everything we’ve been through. You don’t get to sideline me now.”
“Last night at the warehouse was too close,” he said, firm but not unkind. “Checking out this tavern will be even worse. It’s a no-go.”
“He’s got a point,” Wade added. “The Rusty Anchor’s got a reputation. The clientele won’t welcome law enforcement, and management will hate it.”
Gabe looked directly at her. “And you’d have to use every skill you’re trying to hide. Every bit of training you can’t explain if things go sideways. One wrong move and you’re exposed—not just to me, but to whoever’s running this operation and everyone they’re connected to.”
The truth landed like a punch.
If she went with him, she wouldn’t be Cara Sweet.
She’d be Carly Reid.
“But you need backup,” she said, hating the wobble in her voice. “Walking into a bar alone to provoke criminals is insane.”
“I won’t be alone.” He gestured to Tom. “Remote monitoring. GPS tracking. State Police on standby.” His eyes flicked to Wade. “And someone watching you.”
“Copy that,” Wade muttered.
Understanding passed between the two men, silent and complete.
“You stay here,” Gabe said, his voice softening enough to tighten her throat. “With Wade. You don’t leave this building. You don’t follow me.”
“This is ridiculous.” Her voice shook despite her effort to steady it. “I can help you. I’ve proven that.”
“You absolutely have.” Gratitude flickered across his face. “But this part is my job. Walking into hostile territory and gathering intelligence is what my training prepared me for. I’ve done this dozens of times in places that make a rough tavern look tame.”
“Fine.” She clung to her anger because it was safer than fear. “I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
The tension between them had nothing to do with the tavern and everything to do with the night he’d spent on her couch.
The team scattered. Wade and Gabe stepped aside for a quiet conversation. Tom stared too intently at his laptop. Reagan found sudden interest in reorganizing the supply closet.
Cara threw herself into restocking. The espresso machine became her entire world—cups aligned, counters wiped, motions repeated—anything to avoid thinking about Gabe walking into danger in a few hours.
The afternoon crawled by, thick with forced normalcy that fooled no one.
Wade referenced sightlines, back exits, and blind corners. Cara filed away the details, the same way she always did when something didn’t quite line up.
And she stood apart, watching Gabe become the federal agent she’d met on day one—the man who worked alone.
He always worked alone.
And that, more than the danger, tightened something in her chest.
Around five, Gabe caught her eye and jerked his head toward the storage room.
She followed.
“I know you don’t like this decision,” he said.
“You have no idea.” She met his gaze, letting the fear and frustration show. “I could help you out there. You know I could.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” he said. “You’d be too helpful in ways that raise questions neither of us can afford. I can’t worry about protecting you and your cover while I’m trying to find information about David.”
“But I need to know you’re safe.” He paused. “I can’t focus on the mission if I’m worried about you here.”
Her jaw worked against the promise he wanted.
“I’ll be careful,” she said instead—because it was the only answer that didn’t feel like a lie.
Frustration flickered across his face, quickly buried.
“I will too,” he said.
She nodded, the space between them charged with everything unsaid.
His hand lifted, as if he might reach for her—then fell back to his side. He turned and left before she could do something reckless.
The next four hours passed in tense preparation. Piper extracted promises of updates every thirty minutes. Reagan packed protein bars and water he probably wouldn’t touch. Tom triple-checked communications and pulled up satellite images of the tavern and surrounding streets.
And Cara watched. Not passively—never that—but attentively, absorbing angles, timing, patterns.
At eight-thirty, Gabe slung his go-bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. He’d changed into darker clothes, his weapon concealed but accessible. He looked focused, capable, and ready.
Their eyes met across the bakery.
She wanted to say something important—to tell him to be careful, to admit that watching him leave felt like loss.
Instead, she held his gaze and let the silence speak.
He nodded once, understanding passing between them, and turned away. The door closed behind him.
Cara moved to the window and watched his rental SUV pull onto Main Street, heading north toward Granger Point and the Rusty Anchor.
Wade joined her. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know.” But would she?
She’d gone from wanting him out of town as fast as possible to wanting… what, exactly? A future built on lies and distance with the man she was falling in love with?
That would work out well.
Lord, keep him safe. Bring him back in one piece. Help him find his brother.
And if he needs help out there—show me.
She rested her forehead against the cold glass, watching the empty street where his headlights had disappeared.
She hadn’t given him the promise he wanted—but she’d made one to herself.
No way she was letting the man she loved walk into a hostile situation blind.