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* * *

I’d read Lane’s text at least a dozen times before I finally fell asleep.

Sleep well, Josephine.

Not Jo. Josephine.

Something about the way he’d used my full name made my stomach flutter.

I woke up Thursday morning with that text still on my mind and anxiety in my chest.

This was dangerous territory. Remy needed stability, consistency, professional boundaries.

Cameron texted at seven a.m.

Coffee before work. Mabel’s. Don’t say no.

Which meant she’d already heard about the grocery store incident.

I showed up at Mabel’s at seven-thirty. Cameron was already there, two mugs of coffee on the table. The woman looked glorious, her eyes shining with light and a lovely pinkness to her cheeks. Being with Jack obviously agreed with her.

She took one look at my face and grinned. “You’re thinking about him.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

Cameron Harper taught second grade at Eagleheart Elementary—which meant she had Remy Daniels in her class. We’d met at a school fundraiser and bonded over bad wine and worse karaoke. Cameron had recently fallen in love with the local fire chief.

“Don’t deflect.” She pushed a coffee toward me. “You’re thinking about Deputy Daniels.”

“How did you even hear about last night?”

“One of Jack’s fire fighter’s wives works at Safeway. She said Lane Daniels went full protective cop mode.” Cameron’s eyes sparkled. “She didn’t know it was you until I put two and two together.”

“It wasn’t that dramatic.”

“Jo.” Cameron’s voice softened. “Are you okay?”

The memory came rushing back—Blake blocking my path, the uncomfortable, predatory smile. My hands tightened around the mug.

“I’m fine. Lane showed up and the guy backed off.”

“Lane,” Cameron repeated, emphasizing his first name. “Jo, Lane Daniels is a really good guy. He’s been alone since his wife died. And I have never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Remy’s my client.”

“Who is already doing better, right? So, transfer her.”

The words hung between us.

“If the only thing stopping you is professional ethics, fix the ethics.” She reached across the table to touch my hand. “You deserve to be happy. Maybe you’re both exactly what the other needs.”

I wanted to argue. But I admitted, “he texted me last night.”

Cameron’s eyes went wide. “And?”

“He was just checking to make sure I got home safe.”

“That’s so sweet.” She fanned her face. “What did you say?”