A faint pink blooms across her cheeks. My chest tightens at her softness. She’s so small and innocent. I cross to the counter, keeping my expression neutral even though nothing else about me is.
“Evening, Cammi,” I say, voice low.
Her lips part. She gives me a shy but welcoming smile. “Evening, Noah,” she murmurs, and I catch that slight shake in her hands as she fiddles with the notepad.
Control, Noah.
“Coffee, please.”
She nods, already moving toward the machine. “Black. As usual?”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling faintly. “You know me too well.”
Her lips twitch into a tiny smile, and it goes straight south. I quickly make a beeline to my usual corner and watch her work—the quick, sure glide of her hands, every step careful, like she feels me watching.
“Here.” She sets the coffee down. “So…want something to eat with that?” she asks.
I raise a brow. “You know I always do. Just needed my coffee first.” I wink and watch her cheeks brighten as she smiles.
She leans in a little—close enough that I can see the smattering of freckles across her nose. I like it when she doesthat. When she gets a little more confident. More comfortable around me. Especially knowing she’s not like this with everyone else.
“Hmm. I just might make coffee scarce the next time you come in. You like it a little too much,” she says with a shy smirk.
My eyes drop to her mouth, and my cock grows with every lift and curve. It’s self-torture, coming here knowing I can’t have her the way I want. She deserves better.
“Or maybe I like you a little too much.” The words slip out. I should be thrown by saying it. I’m not. It’s the truth.
Cammi flushes, clears her throat, and looks everywhere but at me. Flustered. “Um…let me grab today’s special.”
I hide a smile as she practically runs from my table. Maybe I should’ve guarded my thoughts more. But my control slips from its leash whenever I’m around her.
The door swings open, scattering my thoughts.
A man walks in, not like the usual crowd. Not like the regulars who nod or wave politely. Something in the air shifts immediately. Cammi freezes mid-step. Her cheeks pale, her eyes widen. Her hand grips the counter tighter.
I notice. My eyes track the stranger. One glance, and I know he’s trouble. He walks deeper into the room, and his oily gaze doesn’t leave Cammi’s for a second. My eyes dart back to her, and she’s gone sheet-white. Clearly, she knows the fucker.
Instinct moves me before my brain catches up. I’m on my feet, putting myself between them like a wall. Every muscle pulled tight.
“You okay?” I ask quietly, eyes scanning the man.
Cammi’s voice trembles slightly as she murmurs, “I’m fine.” But her gaze won’t leave him.
I don’t know who he is. Never seen him before. But I know enough. She’s afraid, and I don’t care why. I step closer. Make myself the wall she can hide behind.
“Hey, man. I need to talk to my stepdaughter.” The man speaks, calm, casual, but there’s something in his tone that makes my skin crawl.
Stepdaughter? Fuck that.
Before I can say anything, Cammi responds in a shaky voice. “You’re not my stepfather, Rick. And you’re not welcome here.”
I exhale gently. “You heard her. You need to leave.”
I see a flash of anger before Rick masks it. “Cammi and I have business to discuss. You need to step aside, man.”
I don’t answer. I just stand there. Silent. My protective instinct unwavering. Cammi relaxes slightly, just enough to slide a little behind me. I catch the faintest sigh escaping her lips. Her safety. That’s all that matters.
I watch the anger grow in Rick until he’s nearly foaming. He snaps, “Get the fuck out of my sight, asshole!” The whole diner goes quiet. “Cammi, if you know what’s good for you, come out here now.”
