Page 85 of Defensive Desire

"Not really. Just poked around, asked about your sales, made a comment about how many romance novels you stock."

Of course she did.

Logan's warm hand slides over mine, his thumb brushing my knuckles.

"It's probably because of what happened at Melanie's dinner," I tell Grandpa Walt, meeting Logan's questioning gaze. "We had a bit of a... moment. I stood up to her about the café. And about Logan."

"Good for you," Grandpa says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "About time."

"Yeah, well. I guess this is her way of checking if I meant what I said."

Mom showing up at my café feels like classic Cynthia Carter. Appearing when I'm not there so she can assess without having to actually engage. After years of dismissing my business, her sudden interest feels both vindicating and suspicious.

"She looked at your display case for a long time," Grandpa adds. "The one with all your coffee blends and those fancy labels you designed."

Logan squeezes my hand. "She's probably impressed but too stubborn to admit it."

"Maybe," I say, but the knot in my stomach says otherwise. "Or she's looking for proof that I'm failing so she can say 'I told you so.'"

"Emma-bean," Grandpa's voice softens. "Your mother is... complicated. But that dinner might have been the first time she's ever had to really see you. Give her time."

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Thanks for handling her, Grandpa. Did she say anything else?"

"Just asked if I thought you were... happy. With all this." Walt's voice is careful, like he's trying not to step in something.

Logan's hand finds my thigh, squeezing me in a way that's more comforting than I expect.

"What did you tell her?" I ask.

"I told her the truth. That you're the happiest I've ever seen you. And that maybe she should try talking to you directly instead of skulking around when you're not here."

I can't help but smile. "Grandpa Walt, you didn't..."

"Oh, I did. Someone had to. Anyway, everything's fine here. You two enjoy the rest of your drive. And Logan? Take care of my girl."

Logan's voice is warm when he responds. "Always, sir."

After we hang up, silence settles between us. I stare out the window, watching pines blur past.

"You okay?" Logan asks quietly.

I shrug. "It's just... typical. She never comes when I'm there. Always finds some excuse. But the minute I'm gone..."

"Maybe she's trying," he offers.

"Maybe. Or maybe she's just checking to see if I've finally given up on my 'little coffee phase.'"

Logan's jaw tightens. "It's not a phase, Em. She'll see that one day."

I lean across the console and kiss his cheek. "I know. And having you believe in it... in me... it means everything."

He catches my hand, bringing it to his lips. "Always, baby. No matter what."

The familiar skyline of Iron Ridge comes into view, and my stomach flutters with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Arena Day is less than a week away. Everything I've worked for comes down to one event.

"You ready for this?" Logan asks, as if reading my thoughts. "Back in the real world?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." I squeeze his fingers. "What about you? Still worried about the trade talk?"

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