Axel’s broad shoulders disappear down the sidewalk. I keep staring at the glass until a low whistle snaps me out of it.
“Well, well, well…”
I jump and spin around. Rowan stands behind me, one brow arched, arms crossed, gaze still fixed on the door like she can summon him back.
“What?” I hike Poppy higher and fuss with her wild post-nap curls, fingers a little too busy.
“Nothing.” Rowan steps closer, eyes gleaming. “Just admiring the local wildlife. That was Axel Slade, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I shrug, aiming for bored. The lie tastes ridiculous even as my brain offers up flashes I didn’t askfor: the solid weight of his hand on the counter this morning, how everything inside me went on pause for half a second. I clamp down on it.
“Just a customer.”
Rowan snorts. “Right. And I’m casually contemplating lifelong celibacy.”
She slides behind the register and nudges me aside to help the next customer, hands moving automatically as she rings up a latte and a blueberry muffin.
“He cleaned up that spill for you?” she asks once the customer wanders away.
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Uh-huh.” She keys in another order, then cuts me a look. “And the way he looked at you before he left, also not a big deal?”
Heat crawls up my neck again, humming just under my skin. “He didn’t look at me any particular way.”
“Sadie.” Rowan shifts into full big-sister mode. “I’ve seen less intense eye contact in every sappy rom-com ever made. He’ll be back tomorrow, same time, same order.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I bounce Poppy lightly, trying to calm her fidgeting and my own frayed nerves. Another unwanted image flickers, his quiet presence while I made his drinks, unhurried and solid. I shove it down.
“He was just being polite.”
“Sure, polite.” Rowan wipes down the counter in slow, exaggerated circles. “But that’s not what that was.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I blurt. “I’m not looking for… that. And even if I was, Axel Slade is the last person I’d consider, he’s too—” I wave my free hand, words tangling in the air.
“Too what? Too handsome? Too considerate? Too good with kids?” Rowan ticks off points on her fingers. “Yeah, total deal-breakers.”
“Too complicated,” I manage. “Too noticeable. Too…” My mind skips back to the way he’d stepped aside for Poppy’s meltdown without turning it into a spectacle. No pity. No savior complex. Just room.
“Too much of exactly what you need?” Rowan’s voice softens at the edges.
I glare at her. “I need to focus on Poppy. And the café. And a thousand things that aren’t tall, charming men with zero boundaries.”
Rowan lifts a shoulder, that knowing smile glued to her face. “Fine. But I’m calling it now, he’ll be back. And not just for the coffee.”
“You’re delusional,” I mutter.
Poppy twists toward the muffin display, little hand stretching out like she can grab one through the glass. I pivot to block her reach, grateful for the distraction, even as Rowan’s prediction burrows under my skin and stays there, buzzing.
Every time he gets too close, I feel it all the way down my body. I’m angry, embarrassed, and still, somehow wanting more.
Chapter 4
Axel
Iburst through the brewery office doors twenty minutes late, two coffee cups clutched in my hands and my shirt a canvas of dark stains. Trent and Tyler are already folding up their laptops and tucking away notebooks.
“Perfect timing,” Tyler says, arching an eyebrow at my wrecked shirt. “You missed the entire quarterly projection review.”
