Chapter Two
Saint
I didn’t do Christmas.
That wasn’t bitterness or trauma talking. It was just a fact. Christmas was loud, crowded, and full of expectations I’d never learned how to meet. Too many lights. Too much cheer. Too many people pretending everything was perfect for a day.
But my mom loved it.
So I stood outside Cookie Haven for a full thirty seconds after I walked out, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets, breath fogging the cold air, and tried to get my head straight.
I’d walked in there with one goal: to get a gingerbread house that would make my mom smile, and somehow I had walked out feeling like I had a problem that needed solving.
Belle seemed stressed and tired. That much was obvious.
I could tell she was the owner, and even with a smudge of icing on her cheek, she was downright sexy.
Soft curves, piercing blue eyes, and as stupid as it sounded since she ran a bakery, I bet she tasted as sweet as the gingerbread houses she made.
Then there was the problem that walked in wearing a bad smile and pretended it was business.
I leaned against my bike and lit a cigarette I didn’t really want but just needed something to do with my hands. The second that guy spoke her name, I’d felt it in my gut.
Threat.
Didn’t matter that he hadn’t raised his voice. Didn’t matter that he’d backed down easy enough. Men like that didn’t come to bakeries during the holidays unless they expected to collect something.
And Belle hadn’t looked surprised to see him.
That bothered me more than anything else.
I took one drag, crushed the cigarette under my boot, and swung my leg over my bike.
I didn’t know Belle. Not at all. I had no claim, no right, and no reason to get involved.
Didn’t change a damn thing.
I was going to take care of that problem. I cranked up my bike and headed out of town.
The Wild Chrome clubhouse sat just outside town, tucked behind a mechanic’s shop that’d been there longer than most of us had been alive. It wasn’t flashy. Just X, steel, and a whole lot of history.
I rolled in and parked with a nod to a couple of brothers hanging around outside.
“Saint,” Buddy called. “You look like your usual cranky self.”
“Don’t start,” I muttered and flipped him off.
Inside, the place smelled like coffee, oil, and old leather. Comfortable. Familiar. A couple of guys were playing pool. Another group sat around the big table arguing about something that sounded important to them and irrelevant to the rest of the world.
I grabbed a mug and poured coffee that was definitely too strong and lukewarm.
“You’re early,” X said and leaned back in his chair. “Thought you were braving the bakery lines today.”
“I did,” I said. “Mission accomplished.”
“How was it?”
I took a sip. “Worth it.”
That earned me a look. X knew me well enough to hear what I wasn’t saying.
I didn’t volunteer more. Not yet.
Instead, I pulled my phone out and scrolled through my recent calls until I found the one I wanted.
“Hey, Ma,” I said when she picked up. “You home?”
“Of course I’m home,” she said. “I’m wrapping presents and watching that movie you hate.”
I smiled despite myself. “I got your gingerbread house.”
Her gasp was loud enough that Buddy looked over from across the room. “You did not.”
“I did,” I said. “Custom. Pickup Friday.”
“Oh, Saint,” she said. “That’s perfect.”
“It will be.”
She paused. “You sound… distracted.”
I leaned against the counter, and my eyes swept the room automatically. “Just tired.”
“You do too much,” she said, like she always did.
“Who else was going to bring you a crazy custom gingerbread house?”
She laughed. “Bring it by when you get it. And Saint?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
I hung up before she could say anything else sentimental.
X watched me with interest. “Your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“She still decorating like the apocalypse is coming?”
“Worse,” I said. “She bought inflatable reindeer. The front yard is a spectacle.”
He winced. “I’m sorry.”
I took another drink of coffee and finally set the mug down. “I need a favor.”
That got everyone’s attention.
“What kind?” Buddy asked.
“The quiet kind.”
The room shifted. Pool balls stopped clacking. Conversations dipped.
“Someone bothering a woman in town,” I continued. “Bakery owner. Guy came in when I was there and told her he needed to talk business with her. I ran him off.”
X’s jaw tightened. “He touch her?”
“No,” I said. “Not yet. It was a good thing I was there when he came in, though.”
Buddy pushed back from the table. “You get this guy’s name?”
“I don’t have it yet,” I said. “But I will.”
X nodded once. “We’ll handle it.”
“Not we,” I said. “Me. I just need you guys to help me get some info.” I wanted to be the one to help Belle. Normally I would let my Wild Chrome brothers help, but there was something tugging at me to handle this myself. I wanted Belle to be all mine, which meant her problem was mine now.
They didn’t argue. That was the thing about brotherhood. Sometimes silence was the loudest agreement.
“Just let us know what you need, and we’ll be there,” X replied.
I didn’t go back to Cookie Haven that day.
That was intentional.
Belle looked like the kind of woman who carried too much already. If I showed up again too soon, she’d read into it, start worrying about things she didn’t need to worry about yet.
Instead, I spent the afternoon making calls with X, throwing his weight when I needed it. Having the President of the Wild Chrome on the other end of the phone helped to get information out of people.
Didn’t take long to get a name. Didn’t take much longer to get a location.
Small-time operator. Bill McClure. Thought he was bigger than he was. They always did.
Turned out Belle’s dad had managed to amass a pretty hefty debt from betting on any and every sporting event. The guy obviously had a problem.
Now Bill was coming after Belle to get the money her dad owed.
Pretty fucking shitty, but it was on par with scummy loan sharks.
I leaned back in my chair as the pieces settled into place.
I didn’t know what Belle’s plan was, but I could tell she had one. She hadn’t been surprised to see Bill, but she wasn't happy to see him either.
Yeah, I was going to help her.
She could handle the gingerbread, and I would take care of Bill.
*
Two days later, I headed to Cookie Haven, armed with coffee.
There were fewer customers this time, but the place was just as busy with Belle and her crew working. Christmas music played softly from somewhere behind the counter. The dogs were both sprawled near the front window and watched snow drift past.
Belle looked up when she saw me, and surprise flickered across her face before she masked it with a smile.
“Back already?” she asked.
“Told you I’d be,” I said, and set the coffee down on the counter. “Hazelnut latte. Extra foam.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you—”
“I called,” I said. “Your girl clued me in.”
“Marcy,” Belle hissed.
Marcy grinned from the prep table. “You’re welcome.”
Belle laughed, the sound softer than it’d been the first time I’d heard it. “Thank you.” She took a sip, closed her eyes briefly, and sighed. “Okay. You’re officially my favorite customer.”
I leaned in a little. “High honor.”
Her cheeks pinked. “Um, did you need something, or were you just wanting to bring me a coffee?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Don’t need anything.”
“Um, okay?” she laughed nervously.
“Belle,” a young guy called. “I need your help with this gingerbread house. I can’t get the windows to open.”
Belle took a quick sip of her drink, then set it down beside the cash register. “Uh, I need to help Owen.”
I held up my hands. “I don’t want to keep you from your work, doll.”
The gray dog let out a bark.
“Pepper,” Belle scolded. “You know there’s no talking when we’re open.”
I walked over to Pepper and scratched his ear. “He’s just excited to see me again.” I glanced at the other dog. “Not too sure he feels the same.”
“Salt is a little more guarded than Pepper, but he’s just as sweet.”
The red and white Aussie looked at me timidly, but I could tell he was interested in getting some attention like Pepper was getting.
“Belle,” the guy called again.
“Better go help him, doll, before your next rush comes in.” I stood and grabbed my coffee off the counter.
She gave me a soft smile, then headed to the long prep table filled with gingerbread pieces and bags of icing.
I stayed—not hovering or in the way, though. Just… there. I took up residence at one of the small round tables in the corner and just watched what Cookie Haven was all about. Pepper lay right at my feet, while Salt moved closer but still kept some distance between us.
It was busy as hell. Belle was back and forth between the display cases and building gingerbread and icing cookies.
At one point, I got up to grab a napkin, and Belle brushed past me in the narrow space next to the counter to hand a customer their order, and her arm brushed against mine.
It was electric.
She froze too—just for a second.
Then she moved on like nothing had happened, but I could tell she felt exactly what I did.
The way her hands shook when she handed the customer their order. Her eyes darted toward me, then away. She was trying her best to act like I wasn’t there, but she was very much aware.
I could also tell she was tired. I had only been watching her for a little bit, but I was tired just watching her.
“You should take a break,” I said quietly when she came back.
She snorted. “That’s funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she said. “This season is everything for my business. I need to fill every order I can. I can rest in January.” There was a desperation in her voice. I knew she needed to fill every order and get every dollar she could to pay off her dad’s debt.
I nodded, even though I didn’t like it. “Friday,” I said. “I’ll pick up the gingerbread house around six. Maybe we can go for a drink after?”
She smiled again. “The house will be ready, and—”
“She would love to get a drink with you,” Marcy called. “Owen and I can close the bakery that night.”
Belle glared at Marcy.
Marcy flitted her fingers at her. “Don’t look at me like you’re mad. Have a drink with the sexy biker and try not to think about the bakery for a night. Jessa can come in if we need her to.”
“This is our busiest time of year,” Belle argued.
“And that means you need to take a second to unwind.” Marcy looked at me. “She’ll be ready by six. And so will your mom’s house.”
Belle folded her arms over her chest and sighed. “I guess I don’t get a say in any of this.”
I stepped closer, close enough that she had to look up at me. “You always get a say,” I said quietly. “I just happen to know you’re going to have a good night with me.”
Her mouth twitched with irritation, giving way to something softer. “You’re very confident.”
“I’m experienced,” I said, and that earned me a real smile. “I’ll see you at six,” I added and brushed my thumb along her forearm before stepping back.
She watched me grab my jacket and shrug it on.
Salt rose from his spot near the door, and his little nub gave a slow shake as I crouched. I cautiously scratched his ear, and he slightly leaned into my touch. “You keep an eye on her,” I murmured. His eyes connected with mine like he knew what I was saying.
Pepper barreled over next and nearly knocked me off balance as he shoved his head under my palm. I laughed and ruffled his fur. “And you,” I told him, “try not to get in any trouble.” Pepper’s tail nub wagged like crazy, and he gave my hand a lick.
I straightened, met Belle’s eyes one more time, and tipped my head. “Later, doll.”
Then I opened the door and stepped out into the cold.
I was satisfied with what I had seen today. Belle was not alone in the shop, and I was going to take care of Bill for her. She was working her ass off to pay the debt, and my Christmas present to her was going to take care of it once and for all.