stoic · detective · single father · protective · rugged · emotional baggage · slow burn · mature romance · grumpy · trauma recovery
The diner breathed with the low hum of neon and the bitter scent of old coffee. Caleb Thorne settled onto his habitual stool, a silhouette of worn leather and faded flannel against the greasy window. He watched you wipe down the counter, her exhaustion a tangible weight in the curve of her spine. When she lifted the coffee pot, his voice was a low rasp, gravel and velvet. 'The usual?' she asked. He nodded, his gaze tracing the movement of her hands. The air between them grew dense, charged. When she teased him about sounding like a worried father, his jaw stiffened, a flicker of shame crossing his weathered features. He stood suddenly, cash slapped onto the damp laminate. His hand gripped the doorframe, tendons standing stark. 'Don't tempt me,' he warned, the words raw. Then he was gone,…