The bell had barely stopped ringing when Jimmy caught sight of the man at the counter, the soft bulk of a baby carrier rising and falling against his chest. His pulse spiked instantly, though he forced his hands to stay steady on the counter, curling his fingers against the polished wood to ground himself. Professional. Calm. Normal. He repeated the words like a mantra in his head.

"Coffee?" Jimmy asked, voice clipped but pitched light, casual. He reached for a cup, tugging it from the neat stack by the machine. His hands felt too big, too clumsy, like every motion was under scrutiny.

Though Jimmy nodding as the man replied, his tone frayed with exhaustion. The baby gave a soft little babble, a string of curious sounds, eyes bright and roaming though their body stayed nestled and calm against him.

Jimmy's throat tightened. He flicked the switch on the machine, the hiss of steam filling the air. He forced a smile, eyes darting between the dark pour of coffee and the man. "They're... uh—" his voice snagged, and he tried again, softer. "They're really quiet. Content little one, huh?"

The baby squeaked again, legs kicking in the carrier, and Jimmy felt his chest squeeze with a warmth he wasn't prepared for. He stirred the coffee, focusing hard on the spoon, like the swirl of liquid could keep his thoughts from unravelling. "First outing?" he asked, his voice low and careful, as though afraid he might intrude.

Grian's voice carried across the room, sharp with amusement. "Careful, Jimmy, you're laying it on thick."

Joel snorted from the back, banging trays into neat rows. "It's the voice. He's got his *I'm not flirting but I totally am* tone going."

Jimmy snapped his head around. "Do you two ever shut up?" His words came out harsher than intended, and his face burned. He shoved the spoon down, metal clanging against the counter, and turned back to the man with a too-bright smile. "Ignore them. They're idiots."

The baby's babble rose again, sweet and curious, and Jimmy caught himself leaning forward unconsciously, drawn to the sound. He smoothed the lid over the cup with precise, deliberate pressure, as though the action itself could disguise the storm inside his chest. He cleared his throat. "So, uh... what's their name?"

Joel coughed something that sounded suspiciously like, "DILF-hunting," into his sleeve.

Jimmy's head whipped around again, glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Joel."

Grian didn't even look up from the dough he was kneading, grinning to himself. "It's like watching a puppy trip over its paws. He can't help it."

Jimmy's fists clenched against the counter. "I *can* help it," he hissed, then plastered on another smile for the man. He slid the coffee across, careful, deliberate, keeping his eyes on the man's hand as it closed around the cup. "There you go. Extra strong. Should help." His voice was steady now, almost proud of the small victory.

But the baby cooed again, soft and curious, and Jimmy's heart wrenched. He leaned just slightly, lowering his tone. "They really do seem content with you. Like they're right where they're supposed to be." The words slipped out before he could stop them, earnest and raw.

Behind him, Joel barked a laugh. "*Oh my God,* Jimmy. You're hopeless."

"Hopelessly obvious," Grian chimed, his grin wicked.

Jimmy spun on his heel with a flustered glare directed at them both. "Both of you—shut it." His voice cracked with heat, too sharp, but he didn't care. His eyes flicked back to the man, cheeks flushed, jaw tight. "Sorry. They're—" he hesitated, searching for the right word, "—special."

The baby gave one more soft babble, and Jimmy softened immediately, shoulders loosening as he ducked his head. "Cute kid," he murmured, voice rough. "Really cute."

And though he tried to pretend otherwise, the words sat heavy in the air, like a confession he couldn't take back.