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“I know I seem… wait, what?!”

Sage smiled, slow and wicked, though her thighs pressed together under the table. “Fucking. Hot. You… oh fuck, Cal… how much longer till you fuck me?”

Cal’s mouth fell open, eyes wide. He grabbed his water and took a long drink, trying to steady himself.

Sage giggled, then ate the cherry off her hot fudge sundae in the filthiest way possible — lips wrapping around it, tongue swirling, a soft moan slipping out as she licked the chocolate from her fingers. “Seriously, baby, that was fucking hot. You’re like a big, bad Daddy.”

Cal sprayed water across the table, catching her sweater. Sage burst out laughing, wiping at the droplets while her eyes sparkled. “Okay, not the facial I was wanting exactly… but it’s a start.”

His body reacted instantly — manhood thickening hard against his jeans, mind short-circuiting as he glanced around the busy bakery. “Baby… I… you…”

She leaned in, eyes full of love and so much lust it made his chest tight. “Cal, I’m not scared of you. I know you would never hurt me. Ever. But knowing you can protect me and watching you turn into the fucking bringer of death?” She shivered, biting her lip. “We need to go.”

Cal stared. “We do? Are you sure? Maybe we should talk about⁠—”

Sage was already up, grabbing her coat and his hand, tugging his massive frame toward the door. “Cal, either you get me home in twenty minutes or I’m going to make a big mess right here.” She winked, voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Princess is hungry.”

Cal laughed in pure disbelief, throwing his free hand in the air as he let her pull him out into the crisp winter air. “Okay, okay — I give up.”

But he stopped just short of the exit, one big hand gently catching her hip, thumb brushing the soft curve of her waist through that clingy black sweater. “We need to say hi to Ms. Sullivan first.”

Sage paused, still flushed and breathless, thighs pressed tight together. “Who is⁠—”

She let out a loud oof as a tiny, gray-haired woman in a smart navy wool coat launched herself forward and wrapped Sage in a surprisingly fierce hug. The scent of lavender soap and fresh bread clung to her.

“Hi, Ms. Sullivan,” Cal said, smiling wide.

Sage looked a little bewildered but hugged her back, her body squishing softly against the older woman’s shoulder.

Ms. Sullivan finally pulled away, wiping a tear, holding Sage at arm’s length, eyes sparkling. “You must be Sage. I haven’t seen him laugh like that ever in my life.”

Cal tried to interrupt. “Ms. Sullivan. It wasn’t that bad⁠—“

“Ever!” she said, cutting him off as she stared at Sage in awe. “ Sweetheart, I taught Cal in high school. His life was so hard. But he was the best boy I ever had in my classroom. The very best.”

Sage’s mouth went soft. “He still is, ma’am.”

The words came out thick and heartfelt. Ms. Sullivan’s face softened with pure delight. She turned to Cal, stepping up on her toes as her small hand reached up to cup his weathered cheek.

“Oh, Cal… look how happy you are, sweet boy.”

Cal smiled gently — the kind of soft, boyish smile only a few people in the world ever got to see — and leaned way down to fold his enormous frame around her in the most careful hug. His thick flannel and shearling coat swallowed her tiny form.

“It’s good to see you, Ms. Sullivan. We didn’t see you at the Christmas party. Was everything okay?”

She patted his broad chest like he was still that tall teenager in her classroom. “Yes, dear. I was under the weather. These old bones don’t get around like they used to.”

Then she turned back to Sage, who was still wiping at her eyes, and pulled her into another warm squeeze. “Sage, it’s so good to meet you, sweetheart. Mary Sue said you were like pure sunshine.” She paused, looking at Sage deeply, eyes soft with genuine affection. “I can see she was right.”

Sage laughed wetly, cheeks pink from more than just the bakery heat. “Thank you… that means a lot, Ms. Sullivan.”

Ms. Sullivan picked up her small bag of groceries, gave them both one last beaming smile, and headed out into the crisp winter air. The bell above the door jingled brightly behind her. A swirl of cold mountain wind rushed in — pine-sharp, snowy, and biting — cutting through the buttery, cinnamon-scented warmth of the bakery before the heavy door swung shut again.

Sage watched the little bell sway for a moment, then turned back to Cal. Her voice dropped, thoughtful. “Daddy. You told me the night of the party that your life had been hard. Everyone walks on eggshells when they bring it up. You said you would tell me about it.”

Oh sweetheart…

“I will, honey. I will. I just… The thing is…” Cal looked frustrated, rubbing the back of his neck with one huge hand.