Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Lottie
Fiona made it look easy. She bounced behind the counter, pulling espresso shots and swirling milk foam like she’d been born doing it, even though I knew she didn't work here as a rule and was just training me. The coffee machine hissed and steamed, and I was sure I’d mess it up, but she walked me through every button and lever, never once making me feel silly for asking twice.
“First, you tap the grounds in super even,” she said, demonstrating with a practiced thwack. “Then you twist this part until it locks and hit the button for a single or double shot. See how it goes kinda gold on top? That’s called crema. It means you did it right.”
I nodded, hands a little shaky, but she just grinned and let me try it myself.
The handle was heavier than it looked. I pressed the grounds, twisted it into place, and hit the button.
The coffee poured out, slower than I expected, and for a second, I panicked that it was clogged, but Fiona just hummed her approval.
“Perfect speed. That’s how you know it’s not bitter.”
Her aunt watched from the back, tattooed arms folded, but her smile was warm. “You’ll get the hang of it quick, kiddo."
"If you want to steam milk, use this wand. Just don’t burn yourself, yeah?” Fiona said.
I nodded. She showed me how to hold the pitcher, angling it for the right swirl, and the first time it screamed like a banshee, but after a couple tries I got the hang of it. The foam was so thick it looked like whipped cream. I was weirdly proud.
We practiced making lattes and cappuccinos, and every time I did something right, Fiona gave me a gold star sticker on the back of my hand. By the third one, she’d stuck two extra on the sleeve of my hoodie. “You’re a natural,” she declared.
Then it was milkshake time.
She pulled out a big silver blender and set jars of sprinkles and syrup on the counter.
“We normally make three kinds,” she explained, “but if someone orders a weird one, just ask. The trick is to get the ice cream soft enough to blend, but not runny. Watch because I’m making the first one with Lottie-friendly ingredients. ”
I grinned as she used low fat milk, sweetener, and the low-sugar ice cream, and hit the button.
In seconds, it was thick and frothy and smelled like actual heaven. She poured it into a tall glass, topped it with artificially sweetened whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and stuck in a striped straw.
“First customer is always you,” she said, sliding it across. “Taste test.”
The sweetness hit my tongue and I almost moaned. It was so good. Like birthday parties and cartoons and days when nothing bad ever happened. I had to close my eyes for a second just to let myself feel it.
“Good, right?” Fiona beamed. “We’ve got a safety card here.
” She pointed me to a recipe card. It wasn’t just low sugar.
It warned which toppings to avoid if customers had gluten allergies and she showed me the separate small freezer to prevent cross contamination.
“We can’t guarantee anything obviously, but this way people can make informed choices. ”
I went back to grab some cookies for the display when my phone buzzed. Puzzled, because no one ever called me, I stared in aggravation at my uncle’s name on the screen.
This had to be the sixth time.
But he obviously wasn't going to give up, so I decided to get it over with.
He sounded exactly the same as I remembered. Same oily, fake-careful voice. “Charlotte? It’s Stephen. Long time, huh?”
I couldn’t get my mouth to work. “Um…hi. Is something wrong?”
He laughed, but it wasn’t right. “Nothing’s wrong. Just checking in. I hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d give you a call. You doing okay?”
I stared at the floor. The scarred linoleum, the edge of my sock, anything but the phone. “I’m fine. I have a job. I’m…healthy.”
He hummed, like he didn’t believe me. “Glad to hear it. Listen, I got a letter for you, from the old family solicitor? Said it was important. I need your address to pass it on.”
My stomach dropped. I didn’t want to give him Walker’s address. I didn’t want to give him anything.
“I can just…I’m not at my apartment right now,” I mumbled, panic starting to claw at my throat. “I’m staying with a friend.”
“Sure, sure. You doing okay though?” He pressed it, just like always. “If you need anything, you know I’m always here.”
Which was insane. A lie.
I heard the bell rattle on the door, and not knowing if it was Walker I grabbed at an excuse.
“I have to go,” I blurted, not even thinking. “My ride’s here.”
A beat of silence at the other end. “Right, right. Well, you call me back and give me an address. The letter might be important, Charlotte.”
“Yeah,” I said, voice so thin I barely heard it. “I will.”
He hung up without saying goodbye, but I couldn’t let it get to me because if Walker thought my job was upsetting me he wouldn’t let me come back, so I plastered a smile on my face and walked out.
He looked so happy to see me, the chill I’d felt at Uncle Stephen calling me disappeared and I didn’t give it any more thought.
I had a perfect afternoon with Walker. We watched cartoons.
Abby had given us a list and Walker had even queued up a few in advance, but all I really wanted was to curl up next to him in the corner of the couch and not move for about a year.
Or maybe forever. He let me, just hauled me into his lap and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, his palm smoothing slow circles over my hip like it was the most natural thing in the world.
After a shower, checking my sugar, and eating dinner, he made popcorn, the kind with barely any salt and zero butter, but the whole room filled up with the smell and I couldn’t stop giggling when he burned the first bag.
He looked at me like maybe I’d hung the actual moon.
When we finally sat down to watch the movie, I dropped more pieces than I got in my mouth.
He never complained. Just fed me pieces out of his own hand, thumb brushing my lip every time I missed.
I felt ridiculous. Wildly soft. I didn’t even know what movie was on, but it didn’t matter.
Sometime later, he checked my blood sugar again.
He did it so quickly I barely even noticed, then grunted in approval at the number and tucked me closer.
I melted. I didn’t even mind when he put on a heist movie which wasn't usually my thing.
He watched with his chin hooked over my shoulder, not even pretending to care about the plot as long as I was smiling.
Somewhere in there, I must have zoned out because the next thing I knew, the room was darker, the movie over, and Walker was murmuring into his phone in the kitchen.
I blinked, squinting at the clock. Only ten, but it felt like midnight.
My whole body was loose and warm and floaty.
All I wanted was to go to bed and never leave.
He found me exactly where he’d left me. Just scooped me up, Mr. Snuggles cradled between us, and carried me upstairs like I weighed nothing at all.
“You want to brush your teeth, or you want Daddy to help?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it made my stomach flutter straight down between my legs.
I couldn’t even answer, just nodded. He set me on the edge of the bathroom counter and got the toothbrush ready, putting the paste on for me.
I should have been embarrassed. I wasn’t.
Not at all. The way his big hands steadied my chin, the gentle way he wiped my mouth after—I would have let him do it every day for the rest of my life.
Then it was bedtime. I half expected him to take me to the spare room, but he didn’t.
Walker stripped me out of the hoodie with slow, deliberate movements, like every inch of skin was worth a moment of his time.
He left the socks on. Kissed my hair, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, before laying me down so carefully I could have cried.
He didn’t even wait until he was under the covers before his hands were on me.
I didn’t want slow, not really. I wanted him to just take me, but the way he looked at me as he peeled down my leggings made my brain go blank.
He spent forever just looking, like he was studying me for a test he had no intention of failing.
Every touch was perfect. Every drag of his palm. Every whisper of his skin on mine. I couldn’t even think enough to hide, just let my body melt underneath him, so desperate I felt like I might shake apart if he didn’t touch me everywhere, all at once, right now.
“Good girl,” he murmured, voice rougher now, and his mouth covered mine. Not soft. Not asking. Just taking, the way I wanted him to. I opened for him, and he kissed me until my lips went numb, until I forgot everything except his taste and the weight of his body pinning mine to the mattress.
He didn’t bother with teasing. Walker bared me straight down to the little white cotton panties and fuzzy socks, took one long look at me sprawled out on his bed, and I swear I saw something wild flicker through his eyes before he bent and kissed the inside of my thigh.
Slowly. Then again, a little higher, until the heat of his breath made me whimper.
He didn’t rush. He just palmed my hips, slow and gentle, and traced fingers up under the edge of my t-shirt, knuckles dragging over my skin. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, but he didn’t sound worried. Just hungry. “You need Daddy to take care of you, don’t you?”
I nodded so hard I thought my head might snap off. “Please. I want you so bad it hurts.”
He growled, actually growled, and then slid my panties down, still careful, never making it scary, just inevitable. The air on my skin was cold, but his hands were hot, and it made me shiver in a way that turned every bone in my body to jelly.