Page 20 of Camden

STEPHANIE

I blewon my steaming cup of coffee, attempting to cool it down before taking a sip. The hot drink warmed my throat as I turned the page in my newest book. I sat in the back corner booth of the mostly empty coffee shop. A couple of regulars sat a few tables away, reading a newspaper just like every other morning.

I guess I’d become a regular too.

I had been coming to Stacey’s Cafe before my shift almost every day for the past year. Something about actually sitting down to drink a cup of coffee and read a book soothed my soul.

And my mental health.

Sure, I could’ve made coffee at home. Read at home. But something I discovered about myself over the past year is if I do, I won’t relax. If I sit in my apartment, one of two things happened to me.

First, I cleaned, did laundry, or dishes instead of relaxing.

Second, I would think.

Think about things that have happened to me. Or that could happen to me. Thoughts that tended to come out in the dark.

I randomly found Stacey’s one morning and it quickly became a regular part of my morning routine. My own version of self-care. The bell rang above the door, signaling more customers. Turning sideways, I tucked myself further into the booth. My feet lay flat on the seat, knees pulled up into my chest with my book resting atop so it covered my entire face. Thankfully, my scrubs are comfortable enough that I could sit this way. Jeans didn’t afford the same flexibility.

It’s not that I was hiding, but I’d been hit on a couple of times in the morning, so some days I just covered my face and drowned out the real world with the one in my book.

“Now that’s an interesting cover.” A deep voice interrupted my reading, causing my stomach to flutter. I hadn’t spoken to Cam since the night of the carnival almost a week ago. I gave myself a moment to compose the smile threatening to break my face from his voice alone.

Slowly, I lowered the book, placed it on the table, and peered at him. The blue, short-sleeved uniform hugged his biceps and a bullet-proof tactical vest covered his chest. A gun holster wrapped around his strong, fabric-covered thigh.

I swear he could be on the cover of one of my romance books. He lookedthatgood. Granted, he would need to lose the shirt first.

Stop it, Stephanie. It’s too early to be thinking like that.

“Good morning, Cam.” I lowered my feet to the ground, opening up the seat beside me. He slid into the booth, sitting his cup down next to mine. He spun my book once before tapping it with his index finger, a sexy grin on his face.

“I was hoping I would get to see you this week.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’ve been coming in here every morning hoping to catch you, but I’ve been getting here too late because of calls. Just miss you each time.”

“You come here every day looking for me?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a bashful expression on his face. “That sounds a bit stalkerish, huh?”

It did, but not in a bad way. If I were honest with myself, I’d been wanting to see him too. “I’m strangely okay with it,” I said, feeling a little more exposed. If I was ever going to move on from my past, I needed to be honest with myself.

And him.

The answering grin on his face could’ve made me do things I shouldn’t, but thankfully he didn’t push. “What’s this book about?” He tapped the cover again.

“It’s a romance.”

“I gathered that from the shirtless man on the front.” Cam picked up the book and thumbed through the pages, never stopping to read any. Just seeing him hold the book was humorous.

“He’s a cop, actually.”

Both of his thick brown brows shot up to his hairline. His eyes danced with interest. “Oh, really? Interesting. Is this the kind of book that you usually read before work?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I’m a fan of happily ever afters with a little steam involved.”

“You mean this is like a sex book?” He rasped.

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