Bridgette
Bridgette glanced up at the clock again. It was almost three. Time to pick Gabby up from school. She started untying her apron.
“ Gail, I’m taking off,” she called back into the kitchen. Her employee was finishing off their last batch of poppy seed muffins, a special last-minute order. “Can you handle things?”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Parker,” came the younger girl’s enthusiastic response. She was a hard worker, just like the other two hires Bridgette had made in the past months.
Bridgette rolled her eyes to herself. “I told you to call me Bridgette.”
Kyle had been true to his word about making sure her bakery got back on track. She didn’t ask too many questions, because she guessed there were a lot of details that she didn’t need or want to know.
After the Raging Reapers had fooled the rest of Martin’s higher-ups into meeting at the warehouse complex where they’d stashed the drugs, and called an anonymous tip in to the local police, Kyle and the other Reapers had somehow gotten one of Martin’s underlings to confess to stalking her, breaking into her bakery, and causing all the damage. She didn’t know how they got him to accept that slew of felonies, but that seemed like one of the details that she was better off not knowing.
However they’d managed it, the result was that she’d been able to file an insurance claim. That, along with all the money Kyle had spent on advertisements and business consultants—without her knowledge and consent, of course—had translated to a massive influx of customers, and a sharp spike in revenue. She’d already started shipping her product to some of the surrounding towns, and she expected to be selling all around the region by the start of the next year.
The bell at the front door chimed. Marcy slipped in, Lena in tow.
“Marcy!” Bridgette cried, rushing over and sweeping the older woman into a hug. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you since the wedding! The muffins are almost done, by the way.”
Marcy hugged her back. “We’ve been good, hon. And I’m paying this time—”
“They’re on the house,” Bridgette cut her off. “So put your money away. I’ll just mail it back to you like I did last time.”
Marcy pulled out of the hug, frowning. “I just don’t feel right—”
“Marcy, you’re family. Family doesn’t pay. End of story.”
The door chimed again, and this time Bridgette was surprised to find Kyle standing there, half a dozen roses in one hand and Gabby attached to his other. Gabby was grinning wide, showing off the gap in her smile where she’d recently lost her front teeth.
Kyle swept Bridgette up in a fierce hug that quickly turned into a slightly racy kiss. She broke it off before Kyle could get too carried away.
“What’s all this about?” she demanded, gesturing to the flowers.
Kyle lifted the hand with the bouquet and turned it so he could wiggle his ring finger, emphasizing the gold band there. “One month anniversary. I thought we should celebrate, so I picked Gabby up.”
“Dad let me ride on the back of his bike!” Gabby exclaimed.
Bridgette needled Kyle with a sharp, stern glare. “I thought we talked about this. I don’t want her riding.”
“It was just a short ride,” Kyle protested. “Besides, I made her wear a helmet.”
Bridgette glared at him one last time to let him know they were going to have a talk later. Then she drew in a deep breath and forced herself to move on. She and Kyle didn’t always see eye to eye, but there was no doubt in her mind they could work past it.
Everything else aside, he was great with Gabby. Patient and gentle and so indulgent. She’d had to talk with him more than once about not spoiling her, even if he did have the money sacked away from his days of running drugs.
Gail popped her head through the kitchen door, holding up a white box. “The muffins are ready!” she called.
“Hon, I’m going to have to go,” Marcy told her, accepting the box from Gail.
“But, Mom!” Lena complained. “Gabby got to ride a motorcycle!” Lena turned to Gabby. “What was it like? Was it loud?”
Marcy tugged on Lena’s hand. “You can talk all about it tomorrow at school. Bye, Bridge. Bye, Gabby.”
“Bye,” Kyle waved. When Marcy didn’t respond, he grinned smugly at Bridgette. “I think she’s warming up to me.”
“She showed up to the wedding and put both our names on the card. That’s more than enough.” Bridgette stooped down to pull Gabby into a tight hug. “How was school?”
“Boring.”
Kyle clapped Gabby lightly on the back. “Better get used to it, kid. You’ve got twelve more years ahead of you.”
“So where are we going?” Bridgette demanded.
“A restaurant.”
Bridgette was almost afraid to ask. “But not another bar?”
Kyle laughed. “I thought you’d like Sloppy Joe’s. It’s one of my favorite watering holes around here.”
Bridgette wrinkled her nose at the thought of the grungy biker bar. She didn’t care where Kyle went when the Reapers were in town; she just didn’t want to be dragged along.
“I’m taking you to a real restaurant. You know, a nice one. With tablecloths.”
“Ooh, tablecloths,” she exclaimed.
“Fancy tablecloths,” Gabby added, deadpan.
Bridgette couldn’t stop herself from chuckling. She felt Kyle laughing right alongside her.
It felt so right. It wasn’t perfect. There were still bills to pay and unresolved arguments and a lot of little details between the three of them that had to be ironed out. But Kyle was his, and he was hers, and Gabby loved them both. And that was all that Bridgette could ever ask for.
THE END
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