I watched Logan move across the diner. His broad shoulders and measured steps parted the crowd as people unconsciously shifted out of his way.
Across the diner, Harper pointed dramatically at the scene of the crime, making it clear Zeke was guilty, while the twins giggled like tiny gremlins nearby.
Logan crouched down, saying something in a low, hushed voice.
All four kids froze.
Then laughed.
Logan turned to Harper, gently wiping syrup off her chin, his movements gentle. After she was clean, he kissed the top of her head—a quick, tender gesture that contrasted with his normally stoic demeanor.
My chest tightened. Not with longing, but with recognition. That wasn’t a man who was “fine.” But he was a man who showed up anyway.
When he came back, Harper trailed behind him, wiping her sticky hands on her dress, grin completely undeterred.
“Crisis averted,” Hunter said, sitting back down next to Cami. “No casualties except a pancake.”
“Tragic,” I said, dramatically.
“Heroic rescue,” Cami countered.
“Definitely commendable service,” I chimed in, and couldn’t stop myself from sneaking a glance at Logan.
His eyes met mine briefly, but it was clear that his guard had slipped back into place on the walk back to the table.
Cami caught the look and, with a knowing expression, traced a small heart with her index finger along the side of her mug telling me she saw that.
She always saw everything.
As I shot a look back, Harper tugged on my sleeve, completely oblivious to the undercurrent. “Ms. Dani, can we sit together next time? Daddy says I need a brunch buddy who doesn’t throw food.”
Logan muttered, “I didn’t say it like that.”
“Yes, you did,” Harper said confidently.
I smiled. “I’d love to be your brunch buddy,” I told her, tapping her nose. “But only if you share your whipped cream.”
“Deal”
She beamed and scooted back into the booth between Logan and me, as if locking in her new seating arrangement permanently.
Logan’s gaze shot back to me. A warning? A question? Maybe both.
Despite my calm expression, my heart pounded relentlessly as we all dug back into brunch, laughter echoing against my nerves and excitement twinging beneath my ribs.
But inside, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Logan’s stillness had changed the air. I knew that kind of silence. It wasn’t a lack of feeling; it was too much of it.
And the most dangerous part?
A piece of me wanted to step closer to it.
To press my palm against the wall and see if it would give.
Because I’ve spent my whole life proving I can handle hard things.
And Logan Carter looked like the hardest thing in the room.
Chapter 4
