Page 48 of Defensive Desire

My phone buzzes on the counter, and I reach for it without thinking. It’s a message from Logan.

"On my way. Can’t wait to see you."

A small smile tugs at my lips despite the turmoil in my head.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself.

As I busy myself back in the café, Logan’s presence soon fills the room the second he steps inside, his shoulders brushing the doorframe.

He heads straight for me, his long strides making my heart pick up speed. Before he reaches me, Lucy—who’s been lingering at the counter with not-so-subtle interest—clears her throat dramatically.

“Oh! Would you look at the time?” she sing-songs, already gathering her bag. “Guess I’ll just... go over there. You know. To my designated nosy friend spot.”

She winks at me, way too pleased with herself, and flounces off to her favorite armchair, book in hand.

Logan's hand automatically finds my hip. The touch is so natural, like he doesn’t even think about it, and it sends a pleasant shiver up my spine.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my shirt.

I nod, even though I’m still processing Clara’s news.

“Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind.”

Logan studies me for a moment, then his eyes drift to the slightly crooked bookshelf beside the counter. Without a word, he reaches out and steadies it, tightening a loose screw with the pocket tool he always seems to have on him.

He’s always fixing things around here. Quietly. Without any fanfare whatsoever.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks, not looking away from the shelf.

I hesitate, then let out a long sigh. “Clara just told me she’s selling Summit Café.”

That makes him pause. “Since when?”

“She just told me. Said she’s been thinking about it for a while and that it’s time to move on.” I twist my apron between my hands, fighting the urge to blurt out every thought racing through my brain. “She wants to travel. Try something new.”

Logan nods slowly, like he’s processing it. “That’s... big. You okay?”

I glance at the espresso machine, still sputtering from my earlier attempt to fix the steam wand.

“I don’t know. Part of me is relieved, but another part just feels... guilty for feeling that way.”

His fingers brush mine as he swarms me with his huge body. “You don’t have to feel bad about wanting your business to succeed, Emma.”

“I know. It’s just... Clara’s Summit. Always has been. What if Iron Ridge can’t handle just one coffee shop? What if people get tired of mine?”

Logan’s expression softens. “You’re worrying over nothing. You’ve built something real here. People love your coffee.”

Logan’s thumb strokes a slow, lazy pattern against the back of my hand, and I can’t help but lean into his touch.

“Besides,” he adds, that rare hint of a smile playing at his lips, “if people can put up with me as an Icehawk, they can definitely handle you.”

A laugh slips out before I can stop it, and Logan’s bright blue eyes light up just enough to make my pulse jump.

Before I can respond, his gaze shifts to the pile of papers on the counter.

“What’s all this?” he asks.

“Oh!” I pull the top page free and hold it out. “Sophia called me earlier. Told me about the final task. It’s just... an idea, but I wasthinking... what if we did something for kids? Like a story time event? ‘Tales from the Ice.’”