Claire gasped and placed a hand over her heart in mock offense, eyes widening with playful indignation. "Excuse me, but I take my coffee very seriously. I’ll have you know, this is a perfectly respectable vanilla latte."
"Respectable is debatable."
She laughed, stirring her drink. "You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this close to relaxed before. You should drink coffee with me more often."
Jack let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Careful, Claire. You keep this up, and I might actually start enjoying myself.” The admission surprised her. Did he realize he was letting his guard down? Claire resisted the urge to tease him about it, instead savoring the rare glimpse of ease on his face. It mattered more than she expected—seeing him relaxed, even for a second, made her believe there was more beneath the surface worth discovering. She wondered how often he allowed himself these moments—or if he ever truly did, even before the heartbreak that clearly haunted him.
They slipped into an easy rhythm of conversation, trading stories about their kids. Claire recounted Gabe’s most recent attempt at building a fort that ended with the dog claiming it as his new bed. Jack, to her pleasant surprise, shared a memory of Chloe’s first time trying to ride a bike, how she’d refused to let him hold on, only to topple over into a pile of leaves seconds later.
"She looked up at me, leaves in her hair, and said, ‘I meant to do that.’" Jack shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "She’s stubborn as they come."
Claire grinned. "Sounds like someone else I know."
Jack arched an eyebrow. "If that was aimed at me, I’ll have you know I am the very definition of reasonable."
Claire let out a dramatic sigh. "Of course. Completely logical. The man who still insists he doesn’t need anyone."
Jack tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, hesitation, maybe even curiosity. Claire felt a slight tension in the air, as if she had wandered into a place he wasn’t ready to let her see. Did he realize he was revealing more than he intended? Her pulse quickened at the thought. Pushing now would be a risk—one that could send him retreating. But something in his silence, in the way he stayed with her in that moment, told her he wasn’t pulling away just yet. And that made her want to stay, too, even if her heart wasn’t entirely sure how to protect itself. That made her more determined.
"And you think I do?" His voice was quiet, almost guarded, as if the answer mattered more than he was willing to admit. Claire studied him for a moment, recognizing the conflict in his tone. She had seen it before—the reluctance to need someone, the fear of depending on another person only to be let down. But Jack wasn’t just pushing others away; he was protecting himself from something deeper, something she wasn’t sure he was ready to face.
She met his gaze, letting the moment stretch between them. "I think everyone does."
For a beat, he didn’t respond. Then, as if shaking off the weight of the conversation, he smirked. "This is why I stick to emails and patient charts. Less chance of being psychoanalyzed."
Claire laughed. "I can’t help it. It’s a gift."
Their coffees dwindled, and the conversation wove between lighthearted teasing and moments of unexpected sincerity. By the time Jack glanced at his watch, Claire realized she wasn’t ready for the moment to end.
"I should get back," Jack said, though his tone lacked conviction.
Claire hesitated. She sensed the delicate balance between pushing too hard and giving Jack the space he seemed to crave. But something in his expression—an almost imperceptible reluctance to let the moment end—gave her the confidence to take the leap. "Then let me make you a deal. Since you clearly need an actual meal in your life, how about dinner at your place sometime this week?"
Jack blinked, caught off guard. "You inviting yourself over?"
"I’m merely ensuring you don’t survive on protein bars and black coffee alone."
He studied her for a moment, then, to her surprise, nodded. "Fine. One dinner."
Claire grinned, satisfied. "It’s a start."
As they left the café, Claire couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of anticipation. She had made progress today—just a small step, but a meaningful one. The more time she spent with Jack, the clearer it became how little she truly knew about him.
And yet, with every fleeting smile, every quiet moment he allowed to linger, she felt an undeniable pull—one she hadn’t expected but couldn’t ignore. What would she find behind those walls he kept so carefully constructed? And why did she suddenly feel so determined to find out?
She’d chipped away at something today—something small, but real.
And for the first time, she had the distinct feeling that Jack Montgomery might actually let her in.
But what would that really mean—for him, for her, for the fragile sense of balance they were only beginning to find?
The question lingered long after they parted ways, curling quietly in her chest like a secret waiting to be answered.
Chapter Seven
Jack
Jackstoodinthekitchen, eyeing the items spread across the counter like they were surgical instruments rather than dinner supplies. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. Cooking wasn’t exactly his area of expertise. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had made a meal that didn’t involve takeout containers or something frozen. But tonight was different. Tonight, Claire and Gabe were coming over, and for some reason, he actually cared about making a decent impression.
