Chapter 6
Clara closed up shop late, the hum of the espresso machine finally quiet, the last chairs tucked into place. She leaned against the counter, rubbing her temples.
It had been an ordinary day. Almost.
Her gaze slid to the corner of the room, to the table where he had sat for only a moment. She could still feel the weight of his eyes on her, steady and unyielding, like he had seen past the smile she gave every customer and straight into the parts of her she kept hidden.
She shook her head and laughed under her breath. You’re imagining things, Clara. He was just a man ordering coffee.
A man who looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, not in her little shop. A man whose presence filled the space until the air itself seemed heavier, charged.
And that spark when their fingers touched—
Clara pressed her hand to her palm, half expecting to still feel the shock of it. Her heart picked up just remembering.
She’d never reacted to anyone like that. Not once. Not in high school when her friends whispered about crushes, not in the few relationships she’d stumbled through in college. Those had been safe, easy, forgettable.
This… wasn’t forgettable.
It was ridiculous, she scolded herself as she gathered her bag and flipped off the lights. He was a stranger. Probably just passing through town. And yet, she couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her head—his steady hazel eyes, his calm voice that carried an edge of command, the way he’d said I’m not like everyone else.
No kidding.
Outside, the street was quiet, shop windows dark, lamplight pooling against the pavement. Clara locked the door and started toward her car, her gaze flicking instinctively to the forest at the end of Main Street. The trees loomed tall and dark, shadows shifting in the spaces between trunks.
A shiver traced her spine.
Sometimes the woods felt like they were watching. Tonight was one of those nights.
Clara quickened her pace, telling herself she was just tired. That the unease pooling in her stomach had nothing to do with a stranger’s intense eyes or the way her life suddenly felt… smaller.
By the time she slid behind the wheel, she was almost convincing herself.
Almost.
But when she lay awake later in her small apartment, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts circled back to him again and again.
Who was he?
Why had he come into her shop?
And why did it feel like her life had shifted the moment he walked through the door?
Clara turned onto her side, hugging her pillow. She told herself she would forget him by morning.
But deep down, she knew she wouldn’t.