Jenna’s Protector (Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists: CHARLIE Team #4)

20. Jenna

TWENTY

Jenna

The scent of burning bacon jolts me back to reality. I pull away from Carter’s embrace, my lips still tingling from the intensity of our kiss.

His eyes snap open and the expression on his face turns into alarm.

“Oh no.” He turns toward the stove where thick, black smoke billows from the pan. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Carter springs into action, grabbing the handle and moving the pan off the heat. But it’s too late—the bacon is charred beyond recognition, a blackened mess fused to the bottom of the pan.

The eggs fare no better, the edges brown and crispy, the yolks cooked solid through.

“I owe you a pan. This one’s ruined.” Carter looks at the crispy, charred mess. “Sorry about that. In my defense, I was distracted.”

For a moment, we just stare at the ruined breakfast, and then, as if on cue, we burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe we got so carried away we forgot about the food.” My laughter has me leaning against the counter for support.

“I guess you could say things got a little—heated.” Carter’s eyes sparkle with mirth, and something deeper, something naughty and delicious, sends a shiver down my spine.

“That was awful.” I groan at the terrible pun, swatting him playfully on the arm.

“Yeah, well, so is this bacon.” He pokes at the blackened mess with a spatula, sending another puff of bitter smoke into the air. “Officially ruined.”

“I should open some windows.”

The fan over the stove struggles to clear the billowing black smoke. Already, it fills the room. I wave my hand in front of my face, trying to clear the air.

“I think it’s safe to say breakfast is a bust.”

“I wanted to make you something nice, and instead, I nearly set your kitchen on fire.” Carter turns to me, his expression softening. “But, I have to say it was worth it.”

“Definitely worth it.” My hand lifts to rest on his cheek. “The thought was sweet, but the kiss… That kiss was…”

I trail off, heat rushing to my cheeks as I remember the warmth of his lips pressing against mine, the way his hands tangled in my hair, sending shivers down my spine, and the delicious thrill that coursed through me.

Best damned orgasm ever.

“Just the kiss?” Carter’s eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my mouth and then further down.

“Well, the kiss and the…” Do I tell him?

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or is this my woman pretending she’s shy about what we just did.”

His woman ? I like the sound of that.

Shy? Not shy exactly, but he just had his head buried between my legs and his mouth… His mouth and that decadent tongue were phenomenal. It’s not shyness. I’m simply not used to talking openly about sex.

His heated gaze makes me tremble. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me again, and my heart kicks into overdrive, but then he clears his throat, stepping back slightly.

“How about I take you out for breakfast instead?” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. “There’s a great little diner down the street.”

As tempting as the offer is, the thought of abandoning my café for even longer sends a pang of guilt through me.

“Actually, I need to get to the café. I’ve been neglecting it, and I don’t want to leave Malia in a lurch again.”

Carter’s shoulders relax, but a flicker of disappointment flashes in his eyes. An idea strikes me, and I reach out to take his hand.

“But why don’t you and Max come with me? I’ll make you a coffee. We can have scones, and we can sit and talk before the morning rush hits.”

“That sounds perfect.” His face lights up, a genuine smile spreading across his handsome features.

Warmth spreads through my chest. The significance of his willingness to join me at the café fills me with a sense of contentment.

“Great. Just let me get changed, and we can head out.”

Taking a look around, I see the mess we’ve made—the burnt food, dirty dishes, and the general chaos of my usually tidy kitchen—and I don’t mind it one bit.

The air remains charged with the palpable chemistry sparking between us. A glimmer of something new, something precious and fragile, is blooming between us.

I have a pep to my step and a new vitality surges through my body. It’s strange how Carter has this effect on me. He turned an ordinary morning into something extraordinary.

This thing between us—feels real, like the beginning of something more than a fling. My heart flutters at the thought, and excitement bubbles up inside me.

However, the urgency of getting back to reality and back to work helps me focus. I slip into the bedroom, pulling on my usual attire—a pair of comfortable jeans and a soft, loose-fitting cotton shirt that somehow always smells faintly of cinnamon and vanilla, the signature scents of my café.

As I brush my hair, I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. I can’t help but smile.

The reflection shows a woman transformed, her eyes sparkling with a newfound excitement. My face has a radiance, a glow that wasn’t there before.

I head back to the living room to find Carter dressed and casually leaning against the wall, looking every bit the man who unraveled me less than an hour ago.

Max sits beside him, ever attentive, but when I walk into the room, Max’s tail thumps wildly, making his butt wiggle with excitement.

The walk to my shop is a quiet one, filled with comfortable silence and stolen glances. The crisp air nips at our skin, an invigorating reminder of the start of a fresh, new day. Carter walks close beside me, his presence a magnetic force I naturally gravitate toward. Max trots a few feet ahead, enjoying sniffing all the wonderful smells that fill a dog’s world.

Every now and then, our hands brush against each other’s, and the brief contact sends a jolt of electricity surging through me.

I feel like a kid again. Like a girl on her first date.

Of course, I never had one of those.

This is all new and thrilling, and it’s awakening a part of me I thought was long buried. The butterflies in my stomach flutter wildly, making me feel both nervous and exhilarated. It’s a sensation I never imagined I’d experience, and it fills me with a giddy, almost youthful excitement.

By the time we round the corner and the café comes into view, I’m a bundle of nerves. My home away from home, the café’s windows are frosted from the warmth inside, meeting the cool embrace of morning air outside.

The quaint charm of my small establishment always fills me with pride—the hanging baskets outside, still blooming with vibrant fall flowers, and the hand-painted sign I created myself, which sways in the wind ever over the door.

When we arrive, the bell jingles. My shop is quiet, the peaceful ambiance contrasting with the passion we shared not a short while ago.

Malia is already here. She looks up from behind the counter, her eyes widening when she sees Carter and Max walking in with me. Her apron is dusted with flour, giving evidence of the early baking we do every day to ensure our customers have only the freshest baked goods.

Immediately upon entering, the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee envelops us, a comforting embrace that feels like home. The familiar sounds of clinking dishes and soft music fill the air, creating a soothing background noise that blends seamlessly with the hum of conversation.

The warm, earthy tones of the rustic wooden tables and the soft, cushioned chairs invite patrons to sit and stay a while.

To get comfortable… As if they were at home.

The sunlight streaming through the large windows casts a golden glow, adding to the cozy ambiance. This place is more than just a coffee shop; it’s a haven, a sanctuary where the outside world fades away, and people can relax and be themselves.

It’s the heart of our little community, where every brewed cup and smiling face reminds me why I love what I do. This is where connections are made, laughter echoes, and I find my peace.

The morning rush is nearly over, but soon, it will fill back up with regulars craving caffeine, conversation, and light lunch fare.

“Have a seat.” I squeeze Carter’s arm. “I’ll whip us up something special. Something not burned.”

“Ah, but the burning was worth it.” Carter wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me close.

In full view of the café, he plants a kiss on my mouth and releases me. Carter and Max settle into a corner booth while I head behind the counter to whip up some coffee and scones to replace the charred mess we dumped in the trash.

When I brush past Malia, she whispers low in my ear. “It looks like someone had an interesting morning.” Her knowing smirk causes me to sweat. “About time, Detective Carter stepped up to the plate. I take it you had a good night?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Please,” Malia scoffs, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “The sexual tension between you two could power the whole block. I’m just glad you finally did something about it. ”

“I’ll fill you in later.” Although, the blush creeping up my cheeks will make that conversation unnecessary.

“Abandoning your shop for a man and his dog? I’m guessing a good night and an even better morning? Is that why you’re late?” Malia’s smart and can easily put two and two together. “I must say I approve. We’ve all been taking bets on when the two of you would finally give in to the sexual chemistry swirling in the air whenever the two of you are together.”

“Give in?” My brows tug tight with a question. “You’ve been taking bets?”

How can that be? Carter’s basically ignored me until this case forced his hand.

“It’s about damn time the two of you figured things out.” Her eyes twinkle with amusement.

I start up the espresso machine—it sputters to life, ready to craft a masterpiece.

Ever since Carter mentioned he’s not really into coffee, I’ve been thinking up different concoctions hoping to find one he’ll love.

I get to work on my creation, steaming milk until it reaches a satiny perfection, extracting shots that drip with molten goodness into pre-warmed cups. Each gets topped with a latte, and I add an artful flourish imbued with care and attention.

As I prep Carter’s coffee, I steal glances at him sitting in the booth. He’s chatting on the phone with someone. Max sits at his feet, ears perked as if he understands every word.

It strikes me how effortlessly Carter has woven himself into the fabric of my life. Just days ago, we were virtual strangers.

He came in every day like clockwork, and I had his order hot and waiting for him. We were casual strangers.

Today, however… Well today, we crossed an invisible border into becoming something else.

I assemble a variety of scones prepared earlier by Malia—some plump with berries, others fragrant with a bit of zest, and, of course, one with chocolate chips nestled inside. I plate them alongside a drizzle of honey and a dollop of clotted cream. A sprig of mint adds the final touch .

Perfection.

Minutes later, I carry a tray laden with steaming cups and freshly baked scones. Max glances up at me, eyebrows twitching and nose going a mile a minute.

“Breakfast is served.” I present the entire thing with a dramatic flourish. “And not a crumb is burnt.”

“Smells amazing.” Carter takes a deep inhale and closes his eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the rich aroma of the espresso before diving in.

“One coffee for you.” I pass Carter his drink. When our eyes meet, a flash of heat burns within me. “And one doggy treat made with extra love for you.” I grab one of the scones I make for all four-footed friends who enter my shop and hold it out to Max.

Max takes the treat eagerly, but there’s no teeth and no bite. I don’t know how a dog like him accomplishes such a feat, considering he’s all tooth and fang, but he’s got the softest mouth when it comes to me.

Carter takes a sip of his coffee and closes his eyes as the savory flavors hit his tongue. When his eyes open, they fill with barely restrained heat.

“This is incredible.” His words are simple, but they’re exactly what I need. “It actually tastes good.”

“Good? Just good?”

“Absolutely delicious. You may convert me yet to this foul-tasting brew.”

“Well, if you’d told me you weren’t a coffee fan, I could’ve converted you before now.”

“Ah, it was worth the wait.” He takes another sip. “This is really good.”

I slide into the booth opposite him and take a sip of my drink. Soon enough, we’re settled into our own world.

Malia is a good employee. I should make her a partner. She takes care of the shop while Carter and I finish our breakfast. His steamy gaze never leaves me, and those molten eyes of his hold mine with unspoken promises and lecherous thoughts that go beyond breakfast. It’s hard not to squirm in my seat when he looks at me with a knowing smile on his face.

We talk about small things—music we like, books we’ve read—allowing ourselves this pocket of time to be a normal couple sharing coffee and scones.

It’s a bubble of normal, only slightly adjacent to the small part I may or may not play in bringing his missing girls home.

He asks how the shop is doing. How it is that I make the best scones in the world. I answer those animatedly.

We don’t talk about the heavy things, like his case or what happened between us. As we slip into comfortable conversation, I wonder if this isn’t how life could be—filled with simple moments like these.

I like that more than I’m willing to admit.

Max rests his head on Carter’s knee while my foot finds its way to Carter’s under the table. We play a dangerous game of footsie as if testing whether what happened this morning was a one-and-done kind of thing or the start of something new.

Something exciting.

My heart says the latter.

I don’t get a sense Carter’s the kind of man who does one-night stands, but if I’ve read things wrong, I’m willing to make that mistake. I do so because life’s too short, too fleeting, not to take a chance.

When his hand reaches across the table to take mine in his, his strong, warm, and reassuring grip puts any fears to rest.

“I should’ve asked you out a hundred times before this.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because you’re gorgeous, and I’m…”

“Only the hottest bachelor in town.” Does he not know? “I wish you had as well, but that’s water under the bridge. We’re here now.” I lean toward him and lower my voice to a whisper. “For the record, I would’ve said yes, and Malia tells me there’s a bet going around on when the two of us would finally figure things out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I lean back, drawing my hands back toward me, but Carter grabs my hands, interlaces our fingers, and pulls my hands back to the center of the table.

When he squeezes my hands, my heart flutters, and I squeeze back. Here in my café with Carter sitting across from me and Max at our feet, breakfast becomes less about the meal and more about whatever this is between us.

After we’ve devoured all the scones and finished our coffees, I place our dishes on a tray to bus back to the kitchen. When I stand, Carter rises with me.

“Let me help you with those.” He reaches for the tray, his hand brushing against mine.

“You don’t have to?—”

“And yet, it’s exactly what I want.” He insists, despite my protests, and I don’t have the heart to tell him no.

A few minutes later, he’s behind the counter with me, back in the kitchen, moving around my space as if it’s exactly where he belongs.

There’s a certain rightness to it all, and I love how his laughter mingles with the clink of dishes.

It’s enough to make me believe in a future of countless mornings exactly like this—the two of us together.

Carter glances at his watch, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“I should probably get going.” Reluctance fills his voice. “I need to get to work.”

“Of course.” My heart sinks a little, but I understand. I try to keep my disappointment from showing. “I know how important it is.”

“Not as important as you.” Carter reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “Can I see you tonight?”

“I’d like that.” A smile blooms on my face, warmth spreading through my chest. “Who else is going to walk me home?”

“Exactly.” He grins, bringing my hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “I’ll be here at closing time.”

With a final squeeze of my hand and a whistle for Max, Carter heads out, the bell above the door jingling in their wake.