Page 90 of Defensive Desire

My mother doesn't worry about me. She corrects me.

Everything between us has always been filled with things left unsaid. Her disappointment in my choices. My refusal to follow Melanie's path. Years of practical suggestions that felt like paper cuts—small but stinging.

But Logan saw me. Really saw me.

The version of myself I'm most proud of. Ambitious, determined, capable of building something beautiful from nothing but coffee beans and stubborn hope.

God… What happens if he leaves? If these trade rumors pull him away from Iron Ridge? From me?

I straighten my spine, feeling the wolf plushie he won me watching from its perch by the register. I've survived worse than a broken heart. I've built this place with my own two hands when everyone said I couldn't.

"I'm back safely, Mom," I confirm, continuing to arrange freshly baked scones in the display case. "We had a nice weekend at his family's cabin. Logan's brothers were there."

Her eyebrows lift slightly. "You met his family?"

"Yes." I straighten, meeting her gaze directly. "They're good people. A little rough around the edges, but genuine."

"I see."

She shifts her weight, clearly uncomfortable.

In Carter family terms, meeting family is one step away from a diamond ring and matching cemetery plots.

"And this community program I've been hearing about? How's that going?"

I blink, surprised by her knowledge of my business. "The Arena Experience Day event is coming up. The final task. is tough, but… I'm getting there with the preparation."

"Melanie says you have a good chance of winning."

"I do." I say it with certainty, not arrogance.

After all the work Logan and I have put in, I'm finally allowing myself to believe it. Even if I still have so much left to do.

My mother glances toward the window, her eyes resting briefly on Summit Café across the street.

"Ahhh… So it's true. I heard Clara Sullivan sold her place. Quite sudden."

"Yes. She's moving to London."

"Hmm. And you're not worried about taking on all that extra business? With Summit gone, you'll be the only coffee shop in town."

The question feels like a test. One of the many she's been giving me since I first announced I was opening Chapter & Grind instead of using my business degree for something "sensible."

"I'm ready for it," I reply, surprising myself with my confidence. "In fact, if we win Outreach Program, I'll have two locations to manage."

My mother studies the café, taking in the carefully arranged books, the warm atmosphere, the modest but undeniable success evident in every corner.

"You've put a lot into this place, Emma."

"It's my dream, Mom," my voice softens. "It always has been."

"Dreams are risky," she says, almost to herself. "When I was your age, I wanted to open a flower shop."

I stare, momentarily stunned. "You did? I never knew that."

"Your father was just starting his practice. We couldn't afford for me to take chances." Her voice is matter-of-fact, devoid of self-pity. "So… I made a practical choice."

"And you've always wanted me to do the same."

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