Page 28 of Jenna's Protector

“I’d say you’ve succeeded.” I reach out to cover her hand with mine. “Your café is definitely a community hub. Everyone loves going there. I see the same faces every morning, people connecting, laughing. You’ve created something special.”

“Thank you.” Jenna’s eyes meet mine, shining with unshed tears. “That means a lot.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of her revelation settling between us. As the lunch draws to a close, we linger over empty plates, both hesitating to leave the cozy bubble we’ve created.

“How about a piece of pie to share?” I’m not ready for our time together to end. “Big Rick’s pies are even better than his chowder.”

“That sounds perfect.” Jenna’s eyes light up, banishing the last traces of sadness.

Betsy brings over a slice of warm apple pie and the aroma of cinnamon and baked apples wafts between us. Something has shifted. We’re no longer just a cop and a witness or even a customer and a barista. We’re two people connecting and understanding each other on a deeper level.

We dig into the pie, our forks occasionally clashing as we go for the same bite. The warm, flaky crust crumbles delicately, releasing bursts of cinnamon-spiced apple with each mouthful. Jenna’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she playfully fends off my attempt to steal a slice of apple.

“Hey, that’s mine.” She laughs, the sound light and carefree, filling the diner with warmth.

I feign innocence, raising my eyebrows. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My fork darts out again, this time successfully snagging a piece of apple.

Our laughter mingles with the soft clink of forks against the plate.

As we finish the last crumbs, I glance out at the coast. It’s a beautiful day.

“How about a walk?”

“I’d like that.” Jenna’s expression softens, a slight flush coloring her cheeks.

Outside, the wind carries the salty tang of the ocean, whipping through our hair. Our shoulders bump as we walk. She shivers as a gust of wind whips around us.

“Here.” I shrug off my jacket.

As I drape it over her shoulders, my fingers brush against the soft skin of her neck. I gather her hair, freeing it from beneath the collar, the silky strands slipping through my fingers. Her shampoo, a subtle floral fragrance, wafts up, mingling with the salty sea air.

“Thanks,” Jenna murmurs, pulling the jacket closer.

Her scent mingles with the leather, creating an intoxicating blend that makes my head spin.

We stroll along the rocky coastline, the rhythmic crash of waves a soothing backdrop to our conversation. Our steps fall into sync, and I’m acutely aware of the diminishing space between us. Occasionally, our hands brush, each accidental touch sending sparks through my body.

Max enjoys the walk, surging in front of us to check out an exciting smell. Drifting behind to investigate a rustling in the bushes. Every now and then, he looks back at us as if ensuring we’re still there.

The conversation flows easily, more intimate now that we’re alone. We share childhood memories, hopes for the future, and silly anecdotes that have us both laughing. The way the sunlight plays across her features captivates me. It highlights the curves of her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.

This feels like a first date. It’s everything I imagined it would be, except it’s not a date.

Jenna’s soft laughter sends warmth spreading through my chest. I don’t even remember what it was I might have said to make her laugh. She glances up at me, her eyes holding mine for a moment longer than necessary.

Suddenly, she stumbles on the uneven ground. I reach out, wrapping my arm her waist to steady her.

She looks up at me, our faces inches apart.

Without thinking, I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her. Dammit, I should’ve gone for a kiss.

She melts against me, her head resting on my chest. Her heartbeat is quick and steady, matching my own. The soft scent of her hair fills my senses, and I wish I could freeze this moment.

“This is nice,” Jenna whispers, her breath warm against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “I needed this.”

“Me too,” I reply, my voice rough with emotion. My hand moves of its own accord, gently stroking her back.

As we pull back, our faces remain close. The urge to kiss her is overwhelming.

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