A Hippogriff for Christmas - Zoe Chant Page 0,9

get something to eat, I promise, Beau said, once his guilt at shooting down his hippogriff’s desire to be free got to him. Besides, I have to bring at least a little something with me. Courtney won’t forgive me if I turn up empty-handed again.

His hippogriff seemed to cheer up a little at that, snorting and kicking up its back legs. But it still seemed restless and discontent, shaking its head and shifting its powerful talons, as if trying to scent the air for something only it could detect.

Beau frowned. It made sense his hippogriff would be excited, but this was something different altogether. It made him uneasy.

Shaking his head, he did his best to ignore it. Whatever was eating his hippogriff, it would have to wait. Soon, they’d be in Willow Grove, and then –

Oh, is that a bakery?

Beau slowed his car down as suddenly as he could, peering through the moderately heavy snow. The bakery’s windows were lit up with Christmas lights in green and red, twinkling brightly in the dimness of the snowy afternoon, illuminating what looked like an amazing selection of cakes and pies in the window.

A small-town bakery was just the thing he’d been looking for: he could grab some easy, delicious snacks for himself, and have something good to bring to the family Christmas table so his sister wouldn’t give him an earful.

Perfect, Beau thought as he swung the car around, bringing it to a stop in one of the parking spaces outside the bakery. When he got out, his sharp shifter senses could detect the sweet scents of sugar and pastry in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of the forest that surrounded the town, and the fresh, clean mountain air.

Immediately, his hippogriff lifted its head, scenting the air. This scent…

Sorry, it’s just a quick stop, Beau told it as he jogged up to the steps of the shops. Enjoy it while you can.

His hippogriff ignored him. Beau could feel a strange sense of unease ripple through him as the hippogriff’s flanks shivered, its hooves and talons shifting agitatedly.

What’s with you? he asked, but again, he got no answer.

Inwardly sighing, Beau pushed open the door to the bakery. The air inside was warm and sweet-smelling. He inhaled, enjoying the way the different scents played over his senses: fruits, sugar, pastry, and icing. He shook the snow off his shoulders in the entryway, and then stepped onto the shop floor – just in time to see a tall man with dark, slicked-back hair looming over a woman, his face twisted in anger.

The woman was standing her ground, however, eyes staring determinedly back up at him, her mouth set in a firm line.

She’s pretty cute, Beau noted somewhere in his mind – and she was. Her eyes were a rare shade of dark green, and even though her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and covered by a hair net, Beau could tell it was long and thick, with a hint of curl. Although she was dressed in a conservative beige work shirt, it did nothing to conceal her generous, lush curves – she definitely had one of those va-va-voom! figures Beau personally found incredibly attractive.

Maybe that was why his hippogriff had suddenly started causing such a fuss, he noted, as he made his way across the shop floor. It didn’t usually take notice of humans – even the ridiculously attractive ones – but now, it was practically dancing on its hind legs, head raised, spreading its wings frantically.

Now is not the time! he told it, doing his best to shove its antics to one side. Something’s clearly not right here.

And it wasn’t: the tension in the air was thick enough to cut. The man with the dark hair was snarling now, the woman standing her ground. Beau had clearly walked in on some kind of confrontation, and while he didn’t know what it was about, he definitely didn’t like the sight of a man standing over a woman, obviously trying to threaten her.

“Anything I can help with here?” he asked, walking up to the counter and cutting into the argument with a calm, clear voice. If he knew anything, it was that it was always better to deescalate an argument rather than contribute to it.

The man seemed startled at the sound of his voice, quickly turning his head to look at Beau with cold, dark eyes. His lip curled as he looked him over.

Friendly type, Beau noted, but despite his hippogriff’s