The bell above the café door jingled, drawing Knox's attention from his cup of black coffee. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was—her perfume always hit first, sweet and maddening.

“Good morning to you too, Grumpy,” came her voice, light and teasing as she breezed past him to the counter. Her presence was like a storm and sunshine all at once—chaos wrapped in confidence.

Knox grunted, refusing to look her way, though every fiber of his being wanted to. “Didn’t realize they let loudmouths in here this early.”

She turned, leaning casually against the counter with a smirk that could light the whole damn town. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I ruining your brooding session? You should thank me—your grumpiness needs variety.”

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking up to meet hers for a split second before darting away. She always did this—waltzed into his space and turned it upside down with her sass and that impossible smile. He grumbled something under his breath, but the heat in his chest wasn’t anger, even though he pretended it was.

“Didn’t know they made coffee bitter enough to match your personality,” she added, grabbing her order. The sparkle in her eye told him she was having too much fun at his expense.

“Didn’t know they let trouble walk around unsupervised,” he shot back, finally meeting her gaze. Mistake. Her eyes were bright, daring, and utterly undoing. He forced himself to lean back, arms crossed, and look unimpressed, but his heart thumped traitorously.

“Careful, Morgan. You’re starting to sound like you care,” she teased, brushing past him on her way out.

Knox’s jaw clenched. Care? He cared too much. That was the damn problem. Watching her walk away, all confidence and sass, he let out a frustrated sigh. She thought he hated her, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He didn’t just like her—he was consumed by her, in a way that scared the hell out of him. But letting her in meant losing the only armor he had, and Knox Morgan wasn’t ready for that.