Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
“Morning, Hunter!” She unwound her scarf with theatrical flair. “Omg, it’s cold out there.”
Hunter nodded, returning his attention to the window. The street remained empty. There had been no surveillance since the attack two nights ago.
“Good morning, boss!” Sophie disappeared into the kitchen. “You okay?” she asked Brie. “You look exhausted.”
“Long night.”
“Your bodyguard looks like someone shot his dog. Did you two have a fight?”
There was a pause. The sound of an oven door closing. “He admitted I’m everything to him last night, but he’s still treating me like a protection detail.” Brie’s low voice carried into the front of the bakery on the still air.
The words hit like a punch to the sternum. She was right. He was failing at being a mate.
At 8 AM, Hunter stepped into the alley behind the bakery to make a call. The cold air bit at his face as he paced between the dumpster and delivery door, phone pressed to his ear.
“Status report?” Dom asked.
“No surveillance detected since the attack. They’ve gone completely dark.”
“That’s concerning.” Papers rustled on Dom’s end.
“Either they’re regrouping or they’ve pulled out entirely.”
“Your assessment?”
Hunter stopped pacing, stared at the gray morning sky. “They’re waiting for reinforcements or new orders. The failed grab spooked them, but they’ll be back.”
“Copy that. Anything else?”
“I’d like to take Brianna to dinner tonight. At Fate Mountain Lodge.”
“Good. You need to handle the mate situation.” Dom’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Just maintain operational awareness.”
“Roger that.”
The call ended. Hunter pocketed his phone and headed back inside. Dom was right. Time to stop treating Brie like a protection detail and start treating her like what she was. His mate. Hunter watched the morning rush die to a trickle. Brie wiped down the counter and gave him a slight smile.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“No surveillance since the attack.”
“Really? That’s good news.”
His throat felt full of glass. “Would you have dinner with me tonight?”
Her head tilted slightly. “Dinner?”
“Not as your bodyguard.” The words scraped out of him. “As...” He stopped, started again. “As the idiot who deleted you and is trying to figure out how to deserve you.”
Something shifted in her expression. She studied him for a long moment. He felt exposed, like she could see every scar, every fear, every desperate hope he’d buried under years of isolation.
“I could go out tonight. I have tomorrow off. What time?”
Relief flooded through him so hard his knees almost buckled. “Seven o’clock,” he said. “I’m taking you to the Fate Mountain Lodge.”