Come the final week before Christmas, the Frostvale festival geared up from weekends to every day, and that’s where Asher’s help became invaluable. In previous years, Edith had brought herself out of retirement and helped out in the shop while Evie manned the booth, but now the bakery was hers alone, she didn’thave that kind of backup, and as great as Jane was, she was still just a schoolgirl. She could sell cakes and pastries and all the other goodies, but she couldn’t judge when items were running low. She couldn’t second-guess what orders might come in based on customer interaction, and she couldn’t take care of ordering supplies. In the past, Evie had sent a quick email to Edith, who had submitted all the orders, but now that was all stuff Evie still had to focus on at the end of a long, harried day, before she started baking again for the following morning.
And Gabe, knowing she was alone, and somehow guessing at her loneliness with both her parents and Ollie gone, had taken to popping around in the evenings, somehow managing to time it for when she’d finished everything and felt it the most.
He always arrived with a steaming mug of cocoa, which Shepherd had prepared just the way she liked it, made with cream, maple syrup and cinnamon, and a listening ear. Evie found herself looking forward to those quiet moments, when the day's chaos finally settled and she could breathe again. Gabe had a way of drawing out her worries and fears, his gentle probing helping her untangle the knots of stress that had built up over the long hours. Despite everything, he didn’t make her self-conscious of the way she’d thrown herself at him. He didn’t embarrass her by subtly reiterating his rejection. And he didn’t throw Adrian in her face. In fact, Evie got the distinct impression, her ex-husband had dumped his friendship with Gabe when he walked away from Frostvale, just as he had her. Not that she was ever going to ask.
Tonight, as they sat at her kitchen table, the warm aroma of cocoa mingling with the lingering scents of spice-soaked fruit and brandy from her baking, Evie felt a familiar flutter in her chest. She tried to squash it down, reminding herself that this was just friendship, nothing more. But when Gabe's handbrushed hers as he reached for his mug, she couldn't help the spark that jolted through her.
"So, how are you really holding up?" he asked, his green eyes searching her face.
Evie sighed, running her fingers through her disheveled hair and absently untangling a couple of snags. Sweet cinnamon buns, it was no wonder he wasn’t attracted to her; she was a mess. Time for herself wasn’t something she got to indulge in. The best she could manage was a shower before bed to rinse off the flour that always seemed to cling to her like glitter. "I'm... managing.” She bit her lip and caught him staring. Probably wondering why she didn’t try a bit harder, but she was just too tired. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone. “I don't know how I'd cope without you guys helping out. Without Posy and my parents. I owe you all so much."
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as soon as the words left her mouth. Sweet crepes on a stick, she was almost thirty. Surely she should be more together than this?
Gabe's brow furrowed slightly. "You don't owe us anything, Evie. We're here because we want to be."
His words sent a confusing mix of warmth and unease through her. She wanted to believe him, but doubt nagged at her. What if he was just being nice out of pity? The thought made her stomach clench.
"I just... I don't want to be a burden," she admitted softly, staring into her cocoa and wondering why it reminded her of Shepherd’s eyes. “I already rely far too much on Posy and my parents.” The rich aroma of chocolate wafted up, but suddenly it didn't seem as comforting.
"Hey." Gabe's voice was gentle. When she looked up, his eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch. "You're not a burden. Not to any of us."
Evie felt heat creep up her neck. She wanted to look away but found herself trapped in his gaze. There was something there, something that made her heart race and her palms sweat. But no, she was imagining things. Projecting her own wishes onto simple friendship.
She cleared her throat, breaking the moment. "Well, um, thanks. I really do appreciate everything."
Evie fiddled with the handle of her mug, trying to calm the nervous energy buzzing through her. "I just don't want you guys to feel obligated. I know you all have your own lives and businesses to run."
Gabe leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Evie, look at me." She reluctantly met his gaze, her heart thumping, though she wasn’t sure why. "We're here because we want to be. You're important to us - to me."
The intensity in his eyes made her breath catch. For a moment, Evie allowed herself to hope. But then reality came crashing back. He had rejected her before. This. was. just friendship.
"Thanks," she mumbled, dropping her eyes. "I appreciate that."
An awkward silence fell between them. Evie searched for something to say, anything to dispel the tension. "So, um, how are things at the hotel? Busy with holiday guests?"
Gabe seemed to hesitate before answering. "It's going well. Business is booming, and I’m happy to be able to stick it to my parents.”
Evie knew the elder Thatchers had given up on the Evergreen and had wanted Gabe to sell it, despite it being the hotel Gabe’s grandfather had started his empire with.
“Maybe that’s why I’m so keen to expand,” he mused. “So I can prove them even more wrong.”
He looked at Evie and smiled, and her damn traitorous heart skipped once again.
“But to be honest, I find myself looking forward to these evenings more than anything else."
Evie's eyes snapped to his and widened. What did he mean by that?
Her pulse raced as she tried to process Gabe's words. She searched his face, looking for any sign that she had misheard or misunderstood. But his green eyes held her gaze steadily, a hint of vulnerability in their depths that she'd never seen before.
If in doubt, ask. She’d learned that the hard way. She didn’t want to embarrass herself by assuming again.
"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The generous room suddenly felt too warm, too small.
Gabe leaned in towards her, looking her in the eyes. "I mean, spending time with you has become the highlight of my day. I look forward to it more than anything else."
Evie's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to believe him, wanted it so badly she could taste it. But the memory of the way he’d pushed her away that night still stung, a sharp counterpoint to the hope blooming in her chest.
"But you..." she started, then trailed off, unsure how to continue without sounding pathetic.
