"The kitchen says they'd be happy to make butterfly waffles," she tells Posey, but her eyes keep darting to mine. "Sam remembers exactly how you like them."
Posey's face brightens. "Really? With the berries arranged just so?"
"Just so," Tara confirms, and I catch the gentle warmth in her voice when she talks to my daughter.
"Look!" Posey suddenly points toward the window. "The dogs are having a party!"
I follow her gaze to see a collection of dogs gathered around a water trough on the café's terrace.
A German Shepherd, a Golden Retriever, and what looks like a Beagle mix, all socializing while their owners chat nearby.
"Don't you think Edison should join them?" Posey asks with surprising authority. "He's new to the island. He needs to meet the other dogs properly."
At the sound of his name, Edison's ears perk up.
"You're absolutely right."
"Can I go out and introduce him now?"
"Lead the way. I'll come with you."
Posey whispers to Edison as she scoots out of the booth: "I'm going to introduce you to the Nantucket dogs. I know only a few of them, so forgive me if I don't do it perfectly."
I catch Tara's eye across the café. She's watching me with an intensity that makes my cock harden.
The memory of Tara calling me her Prince Charming plays on repeat in my head. It’s insane timing—me, suddenly a father—but none of that erases the need simmering under my skin.
I need to get her number. Need to get her alone. Need to finish what we started that night.
Then I follow Posey out to the terrace, already planning how I'm going to get Tara Thompson back in my arms and into my bed.
CHAPTER 9
TARA
Iwatch through the cafe window as Cameron Crow walks onto the terrace with his daughter, that massive black Lab trailing behind them.
My hands shake slightly as I clear table six and remember when Cameron's fingers brushed against mine when I served his coffee.
A jolt of heat flares through me when I realize he remembered that night. That hotel lobby kiss. And how I yielded to him, as if my body had always known his touch.
I shouldn't be thinking about this.
Cameron’s a famous rockstar. And he probably flirts like that with all the girls. But God, the way he looked at me.
Outside, I observe Posey talking to the other dogs like she's making introductions at a garden party. Cameron watches her with a proud smile.
My eyes follow the powerful lines of his shoulders, his tapered waist. Man, he's gorgeous.
"Table twelve needs more coffee," Sam calls from the kitchen window.
I grab the pot. But a moment later, I hear shouting from the terrace. I turn to the glass and see a crowd gathering aroundsomeone on the ground. An older man in a sailor's cap collapsed near the water trough. Salty! One of my favorite customers.
Cameron is already there, dropping to his knees beside the fallen man. Without hesitation, he rips open Salty's shirt and begins chest compressions with the practiced confidence of someone who's done this before.
My pulse jolts as I watch those strong hands. The same hands that touched me so gently, now working to save a stranger's life. There's something primal about seeing him take charge, seeing the focused intensity on his face as he fights to keep Salty alive.
"Jesus," Sam breathes beside me. "The guy knows what he's doing."
