Wish Upon A Sunset

The Missing Poster

Emma

The door swung open, and the inviting smell of freshly brewed coffee and delicious pastries filled the air, instantly making me feel at home in the small coffee shop.

Logan sat by a window, two to-go cups sitting in front of him. He looked up as I approached, giving me a warm smile that made my heart ache with gratitude.

"Morning, Emma," He said, standing up to give me a brief, comforting hug. I pretended not to notice when his hand stayed on the small of my back for longer than needed, and I resisted the temptation to lean towards him. Even after I pulled away, the distinct scent of Christmas he left behind lingered on my white knit sweater. "Ready to hit the road?"

My mind was a whirlwind of anxiety. Michelle had been missing for three days now. We had spent almost all weekend searching for her and every second that passed felt like an eternity. I couldn't shake the images of what might have happened to her, the terrible scenarios my mind conjured up. I wanted to scream out my frustration at the top of my lungs, but all I managed was a small nod.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. I glanced at the stack of missing posters on the table. Each one had Michelle's smiling face on it, and my heart tightened in anguish.

After grabbing the stack, I walked out of the shop, following Logan, who had the two coffee cups in his hands.

As we walked out to Logan's car, my thoughts raced. I was grateful beyond words for Logan's help. After I had stormed out of his studio, I worried he might never speak to me again. But here he was, by my side, without a hint of a grudge.

Embarrassment consumed me when I remembered how I had run out, not giving him a chance to explain the situation. It seemed so trivial now compared to the possibility of losing my sister. And yet, Logan had been nothing but supportive, putting aside any hurt or confusion he might have felt. He didn't have to help me. Especially after the way I had acted.

I mean, he had lied to me, but even that argument wasn't sticking anymore. I knew why he had done it and I couldn't fault his reasoning.

As we got into Logan's car, the leather seats creaking, he handed me a steaming cup of coffee. The rich aroma filled the confined space, a welcome distraction from my worries.

"Thought you might need this," he said with a reassuring smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Thank you," I replied softly, wrapping my hands around the warm cup and taking a small sip. The chocolate caramel liquid burst over my tongue, the perfect blend of sweet and bitter.

My eyes widened with surprise. "How did you know my favorite coffee flavor?"

Logan's warm chuckle resonated in the car, a deep, comforting sound. "I may have charmed a certain barista into divulging your secret."

Even though our situation was serious, I couldn't resist smiling and feeling a momentary sense of lightness. "Oh, I see how it is. First you sweet-talk women onto Ferris wheels, now you're coercing baristas. Is this how all your investigations go, Detective?"

He grinned, starting the engine with a low rumble. "Only the important ones."

The heat of the coffee was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through me at Logan's thoughtfulness. It wasn't just that he'd remembered my favorite flavor - it was the effort he'd gone to wanting to bring me a small comfort amid all this confusion and heartache.

It spoke volumes about the kind of man he was. Caring, attentive, going above and beyond. As I sipped the coffee, I wondered what it meant. Was this just Logan being kind, or was it a sign of something more? Either way, it made me feel seen, valued in a way I hadn't in a long time. And despite everything going on with Michelle, I couldn't ignore the hope in my chest at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Logan cared for me as more than just another case.