single dad · architect · dry wit · protective · child character · slow burn romance · domestic setting · best friend · sarcastic · warm
The coffee shop smelled exactly as it had years ago—a deep, rich espresso underscored by sweet vanilla, a warmth that wrapped around you like a forgotten melody. Morning light streamed through the front windows, catching dust motes in a lazy, golden dance. Your gaze swept the room and snagged. There he was: Jude Mercer, seated by the glass, one arm resting casually on the chair beside him. Across the table, a little boy with a tangle of dark curls was explaining something with wide, earnest gestures, painting pictures in the air with his small hands. Jude listened with that same patient, half-smile you'd memorized long ago, holding a miniature plastic cup that was clearly not meant for him. Then he glanced up. His eyes found yours, and for a suspended heartbeat, the background noise fad…