Chapter 7
Julie
I ’m alone in the bakery for the first time in days.
The lull between the morning rush and the lunch crowd is usually my favorite part of the day. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Just me, the soft hum of the fridge compressors, the smell of baking bread hanging in the air like a warm hug. I’ve got a fresh tray of lemon blueberry muffins cooling on the counter and my favorite country playlist on low volume, humming from the speaker near the espresso machine.
Everything feels calm. Normal.
Until it doesn’t.
The bell above the door chimes, sharp and sudden, and I glance up expecting a regular—Cara from the bookstore or Ethan from the hardware shop.
But it’s not anyone I recognize.
The man who walks in has the kind of energy that hits your instincts before your brain catches up. Wiry frame, hoodie pulled low, jittery hands that twitch near his pockets. He looks around fast, too fast… his eyes darting across the room looking for god knows what.
"Hey there," I say, forcing a smile as I wipe my hands on a towel. "Kitchen’s open if you’re hungry. Pastries are fresh. Coffee’s hot."
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t smile. Just steps closer to the counter, gaze flicking to the register.
Something in my chest tightens. The hairs on the back of my neck are telling me something’s not right here.
"Are you new in town?" I try again, keeping my voice steady. "Pelican Point’s got a way of pulling people in. Are you looking for something specific?"
His hand slips into his jacket.
My stomach drops.
"Don’t scream," he says, pulling out a knife. It’s not huge, but it doesn’t need to be. It glints under the overhead lights, and my heart jumps into my throat.
"Okay," I say quickly, hands raised. "Okay. Just... take what you want. I’ll give you the cash."
He steps around the counter fast, grabbing my arm. His grip is rough, fingers digging into my skin.
"No tricks. Open it. Now."
I nod, trying not to let the panic show on my face as I punch in the code on the register. My hands are shaking like a leaf. I fumble the drawer open, and he grabs a fistful of bills, eyes wild.
"That all of it?"
"Yes," I whisper. "Just please go. You don’t have to hurt anyone."
The door chimes again and I instantly fear for whatever customer is walking in. I raise my eyes and see Marcus.
His silhouette fills the doorway like something out of a movie—broad, controlled, and I’ve never been so happy to see a man in uniform… especially Marcus. His eyes narrow the second he sees what’s happening.
He doesn’t hesitate. "Let her go," Marcus says, voice low and lethal… his hand resting on the butt of his gun on his hip.
The man jerks me in front of him dragging us both behind the counter, knife flashing as he presses it to my throat.
"Stay back! I swear to God, I’ll cut her!"
My breath is shallow, heart hammering so loud I can barely hear anything else. I’m holding my head as far back as I can get it trying to stay away from the blade.
"Easy," Marcus says, holding his hands up trying to deescalate the situation. His eyes stay locked on mine, not the blade or the guy who’s got a death grip on me. "Julie, are you okay?"
I nod, barely.
"She’ll stay that way as long as you back off and let me get out of here," the man snarls.
“That’s not going to happen, and you know that.” His stance shifts, subtly, like he's calculating.
Then the back door creaks open and someone comes barreling in. “King!” It’s Delgado’s voice.
Thank God.
“In here.” Marcus replies.
The guy stiffens, his attention swinging toward the sound of the kitchen swing door opening, his knife twitching against my throat.
In that split second, Marcus makes his move. In the blink of an eye, he yanks me from the man’s grasp and shoves me behind him in one fluid motion. I stumble, fall against the counter, and hear the scrape of boots and the sound of a scuffle.
By the time I look up, Delgado has his gun drawn. Marcus has the man pinned, arm twisted behind his back, knife kicked across the floor.
"Stop resisting!” Marcus growls. The guy stops moving. "You done?" Marcus asks him.
The man nods defeated, breath ragged. Marcus holds him until Delgado steps in with cuffs, his expression all business.
"Already called it in," Delgado mutters. "Backup will be here in two."
I slide down the wall, legs giving out as the adrenaline crashes through me.
Marcus is there in an instant, crouching in front of me, hands on my shoulders.
"Hey. Hey. Look at me. You’re okay. He didn’t cut you, right?"
I shake my head, tears I didn’t realize were there spilling over. "No. No, he didn’t. I just... I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared."
"You did exactly what you were supposed to," he says firmly. "You stayed calm. You stayed smart."
I blink up at him, his face swimming in my vision. He cups my cheek gently, and I lean into it before I can stop myself.
"You’re here," I whisper.
His jaw tightens. "I always will be."
* * *
For the next two hours, Marcus refuses to leave my side.
Not when the detectives arrive. Not during the questioning. Not even after Delgado and the others clear the scene and assure me, they’ll finish the paperwork back at the station.
I sit on the counter, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, and Marcus leaning against the fridge like a silent wall of protection.
"Are you okay?" he asks for the fourth time in the last hour.
I nod again, but it’s not entirely convincing, mostly because I don’t know how I’m feeling besides shock.
"You should go. You need to finish the rest of your shift, right?"
He shakes his head. "I took the rest of the day off. Sargent signed off on it. I’m not leaving you alone."
"Marcus..."
"I’m not," he says again, stepping in front of me. "I mean it. I’m not letting this happen again. I’ll install a security system myself if I have to."
I blink. "You know how to install security systems?"
"I was Army Rangers, Julie. I know how to wire an entire building for surveillance."
That pulls a laugh out of me. A weak one, but still. He smiles faintly and brushes a thumb over my cheek. It’s an unexpected move, but I find that I like it.
"I don’t want you to be scared in your own space."
"I didn’t think anything like that would ever happen here."
"That’s why it has to be safe. I’ll take care of it."
I swallow hard. "Why are you doing this? You barely know me."
He goes still. "Because I care about you. Because I walked in and saw a man with a knife to your throat and something in me snapped. I would’ve done anything to get to you."
My chest aches. "I didn’t realize I mattered that much to you."
He exhales. "I didn’t know either. Until today."
There’s a long pause. The air between us buzzes with something electric and raw.
And just like that, something shifts. Something opens between us. Something terrifying and safe all at once.
* * *
The bell over the bakery door jingles like it's trying to shake the nerves off me.
I don’t even look up. “We’re closed,” I call automatically, still sitting on the stool behind the counter, legs tucked under me, Marcus's blanket still draped around my shoulders like armor.
But of course, it's not a customer.
"Like hell you're closed," Emma says, striding inside like she owns the place—because let’s be honest, emotionally, she kind of does. “Where is he?”
I blink. “Marcus? He’s outside taking pictures of my building.”
“No. The guy,” she snaps. “The one with the knife. Did Marcus take him down like an Army Ranger, ninja, or what? You were robbed, Julie! We heard the whole thing from Melody at the diner. Delgado apparently came through the back like Rambo. You’ve got half of Pelican Point buzzing like angry bees.”
Sophie slips in behind Emma, her face pale. “Are you okay? Oh my god, Julie. Why didn’t you call one of us?”
Candace and Joselyn follow, shutting the door behind them and flipping the sign to CLOSED without a word. Sophie sets an open bottle of wine from Celtic Knot in front of me. “Drink. I figured you needed it.”
I laugh weakly. “Thanks.” I grip the bottle like it’s a life raft.
Sophie rounds the counter and gives me a hug that’s a little too tight. “We were terrified when we heard.”
“I’m okay,” I murmur, staring at the floor. “Mostly. I’m still a little shaky.”
“Shaky is allowed,” Joselyn says, sliding onto a stool beside me. “You had a knife to your throat.”
Emma’s eyes blaze. “So… did Marcus shoot the guy? Beat the shit out of him? Delgado said Marcus ‘handled it,’ which is basically code for ‘don’t ask, but it was awesome.’”
I huff a breath, equal parts laughter, and leftover adrenaline. “He didn’t shoot him. He talked him down. Sort of. Then Delgado came in through the back, the guy got distracted, and Marcus pulled me out of the way and pinned him before he could react.”
Emma grins. “So… ninja. Got it.”
“More like… terrifyingly calm protector mode. I’ve never seen someone move that fast. One second, I was about to pass out, the next he was there, and the guy was on the ground. And Marcus…” I pause, the emotion sneaking back into my voice, “Marcus hasn’t left my side since. Not once.”
The girls all go quiet.
It’s Sophie who speaks first, her voice soft. “He really cares about you.”
I nod slowly. “I think… I’m starting to realize that.”
Candace crosses her arms. “You know what’s wild? That man shows up for you like its instinct. That’s not just coffee and danish flirtation.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to label it,” I admit. “But today… it felt like more.”
There’s a beat of silence before Emma clears her throat. “Okay, but also… the way he barreled in like Captain America? I need details.”
I grin. “You just want to picture him in tactical gear.”
“Don’t act like I’m the only one.”
Laughter bubbles up around the bakery, and just like that, some of the fear loosens its grip on me.
Then the front door swings open again.
This time, it’s Marcus. He’s still in uniform, but his expression softens when he sees me surrounded by the girls. “Hey.”
I sit up straighter. “Hey.”
He lifts a hand, thumb hooked over his shoulder. “I’m gonna run home, change into jeans, grab my toolbox, and come back to get that security system installed.”
Emma squints. “Wait. You’re not just talking about calling a guy? You’re doing it yourself?”
Marcus shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Better that way. I know how I want it wired.”
Candace hums. “Hot.”
He ignores her, stepping close to me. “You sure you’re okay for an hour?”
I nod. “I’ve got backup.”
“Damn right she does,” Emma says.
Marcus’s eyes stay on me for a second longer, searching, making sure. Then he leans down and kisses my forehead. Just once—enough to short-circuit every part of me.
“I’ll be back soon,” he murmurs.
Then he’s gone.
And I’m left staring after him, my mouth hanging open like a woman kissed by a hurricane disguised as a man.
Emma fans herself. “Okay. We’ve officially entered new territory. You don’t forehead-kiss someone unless you’re all in.”
I blink. “What?”
Sophie smirks. “You’re in it now, Jules. Whether you’re ready to say it, label it, or whatever.”
I scowl at her. “I’m not saying anything.”
“Yet,” Joselyn adds helpfully.
I roll my eyes, but the weight in my chest feels lighter. “You guys are relentless.”
“We love you,” Sophie says simply. “And we’re proud of you. You handled yourself today with so much grace and strength. And now you’ve got a man willing to install your security system personally?”
Candace lifts a brow. “That’s small-town love language right there.”
We all laugh again, and this time it feels real. Steady.
I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders and sip my wine.
I’m okay and I’m not alone.