QUINN

The front door chimed as I walked in, my gaze shifting from the café illuminated by the pale, orange rays of dusk—to the figure who stared at me like I had wandered into the wrong place.

“What?!” I snapped, walking toward the counter while Jack looked at me like I had grown a horn.

“Where is my little daisy?”

I paused. “Firstly, don't call her that!”

“Jealous?”

I rolled my eyes so hard they almost fell out of my head. “Secondly, she's at home.”

His smile faltered. “Why?”

“Because she's a child, and I can't take her everywhere,” I said. It was much better than admitting she was weak...