I realized I’d zoned out in the middle of Charlie’s story about whatever Netflix series he and Hudson were hooked on these days. “I’m sorry.”

Charlie reached a hand across the battered wooden surface of the antique farinier I used to check out customers at the shop. “It’s okay. But you’ve been drifting off more than usual lately. Is everything okay?”

The man had become the closest thing to a friend I had here in Hobie in the six months since I’d moved back.

“Someone broke into the farmhouse,” I admitted, pulling off my glasses to swipe them clean with a cloth from one of the drawers in the farinier. I didn’t mention the car thing from the night before. “It happened last week. I guess it still has me a bit rattled. I’m not sleeping very well at night.”

Charlie’s expressive face dropped into surprise. “Does Seth know?”

I laughed. Hobie was small enough that half the town was related to the sheriff, including Charlie’s partner, Hudson. “Yes, he knows. I called 911 and they came out immediately. There wasn’t much they could do. The burglar took the usual. Laptop, wallet, etc. The only other things missing were a jar of old keys and some antique writing boxes from my slope collection.”

Charlie looked at me like I was speaking Greek. I tried to clarify. “The boxes were each worth several hundred dollars and easy to grab.”

He blinked at me. “And a country boy looking for easy money would know that how?”

It was the question most on my own mind. I shrugged. “I don’t want to think about it. The only place around here to fence something like that is with me. So now, I’m terrified I’m going to turn around one day to check out a customer and come face-to-face with my own burglars here in the shop.”

“Shit, Augie,” Charlie said, reaching down to pluck my cat, Milo, up from where he was running figure eights through Charlie’s legs. “Maybe you need some extra security around here. You know… Saint is a security special—”

“Saint can’t know about the break-in,” I blurted.

“Why not?”

I tried toning down the freak-out. “I just don’t want everyone knowing my business, that’s all.”

“But while he’s in town, you might as well take advantage of his knowledge about security measures.”

“He doesn’t normally live in Hobie?”

“He lives and works in Dallas. You didn’t know that?” Milo’s loud purr and face-bumping distracted Charlie while my head spun. Why was Saint the one in Hobie giving me self-defense lessons if he didn’t normally live and work here?

The shop door opened with the tinkle of a bell. I scurried over to help the mail carrier with a stack of boxes. “Mrs. Parnell, let me grab some of those,” I said to the older woman. “If they’re the books I’ve been expecting, they’re probably super heavy.”

“Good morning, Augie,” she said with her usual energy. “I heard about the break-in at Melody’s old place. Any leads yet on the perps?”

In addition to being one of many town gossips, I suspected Mrs. Parnell was also an avid television watcher. If she knew about the burglary, I could forget any expectation of privacy.

“You’d have to ask the sheriff, I’m afraid,” I said, grabbing the entire stack of boxes from her and turning to take them to the back room. I didn’t see Charlie’s dog, Mama, dart out to greet our visitor, and I tripped over her, tipping toward the wooden floor face-first. With my arms full of boxes, there was no hope of surviving the fall without major damage.

I heard Charlie’s high-pitched screech as well as Mrs. Parnell’s shout of warning before two strong bands of muscle grabbed me and pulled me upright. One of the boxes tumbled out of my grip, but while I bobbled the other two, I caught the familiar scent of Saint Wilde’s unique aftershave. Before I could accidentally pitch the remaining boxes onto the floor to join the third, Saint reached around and took them out of my arms, stepping over to the cashier stand to set them down on a steady surface.

“Good morning, Charlie,” he said as if he hadn’t just saved me from breaking my face on the rough wooden boards of the antique shop floor. “I was hoping to find you here.” That last part was mumbled into my ear rather than said to Charlie. The deep, low voice set all the hair on my body into high alert.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mrs. Parnell batting her ancient eyelashes at Saint. I wanted to growl.

“Well, if it isn’t one of the Wilde boys,” she tittered. “I didn’t know you were in town, sweetheart. What brings you home? I thought you were touring with that famous… what’s her name? Carla? Rosita? Lolita? The pop star you were guarding. You know the one. Barely wears any clothes.” She whispered that last part, most likely so Jesus didn’t hear her. It was a common affliction among Texan busybodies.

I sensed Saint’s body stiffen.

“Gemma, ma’am. I’ve been removed from her service.”

“Oh, what a shame.” Clearly, she didn’t think it was a shame at all.

“Not a shame. I’m working with another valuable asset now. One whose company I much prefer.” His eyes slid toward me, and I could have sworn I saw him take in a sudden breath before he winked.

Winked.

At me.

I gulped. Surely I was mistaken. I cleared my throat and moved to the table where the boxes were sitting so I could begin opening them. After tugging on the edge of one of the stubborn things with no success, I walked around the table to find a pair of scissors. Saint continued chatting with Mrs. Parnell while reaching for the box and ripping it open effortlessly. He swiveled it toward me and continued his conversation.

I stared at him.

Milo jumped up to see what was in the package. Within seconds, Saint’s big hands were all over my cat, stroking and caressing his tortoiseshell coat. Milo preened under his attentions while I stared in a jealous stupor.

“Hey, sweetie,” Saint murmured. “Who are you?”

Before I could say anything, Charlie spoke up in his lovely Irish lilt. “That’s Milo. A rare male calico. Mama’s been having an affair with him for many months now. It’s quite awkward considering your grandfathers’ dog Grump is her baby daddy.” Charlie turned to me with a frown. “Is that the right phrase? Baby daddy?”

I nodded, but before I could open my mouth, Mrs. Parnell cut in. “Oh you. Those puppies were so beautiful. I see at least three of them on my route every day.” She leaned over to scratch Charlie’s border collie on the head. “Well, I must be off. Augie, stay safe and get yourself one of those alarm systems on the old place, okay? Good to see you back, Saint. Don’t be a stranger, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, smiling and waving until she was gone. His forehead crinkled as he turned back to study me. “You okay?”

I looked behind me to see who he was talking to. The only thing there was the Edwardian stand mirror that always showed movement in the store and assisted me regularly in scaring the crap out of myself.

“Who, me?” I asked.

Saint’s expression softened. “Yes, you. When I came in you were three inches from a broken nose. You all right?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. I’m fine.”

He studied me for a moment as if making sure I was telling the truth. His scrutiny made me squirm, so I busied myself unpacking one of the boxes of books onto the counter.

“Charlie,” Saint said. “I need to speak to Mr. Stiel about something private. Do you mind…?”

Charlie looked between Saint and me. “Mr. Stiel? Who the hell is—”

I looked up and caught Charlie’s eye.

“Oh, hmm. Well, okay. I guess.” He watched us over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the shop. “Come on, Mama. Augie, call me.”

I nodded, even though I’d never called the man before in my life. I’d spent the first six months living in the room over the shop until I got up the nerve to move into the farmhouse, but even then, I was usually too nervous to pop around to the pub for a drink by myself. The sum total of my visits with Charlie were when one or the other of us was fetching or returning Mama to the pub from my shop or the handful of times I’d ventured out for a beer at his pub.

When Charlie was gone, I suddenly realized the obvious. I was alone with Saint Wilde. My heart thumped and my stomach flopped around like a dying fish. I looked around frantically for the bottle of cold water I usually kept in the shop. Was it under the counter of the farinier? No. On the bookcase with the provenance files? No. Was it—

“Looking for this?”

I whipped my head around to see Saint holding out my water bottle. “How did you know what I was looking for?” I reached out and took the bottle, being careful not to let my fingers touch his. The daydreams I’d had about touching Saint Wilde had kept me up half the night jacking off. I was afraid if I touched him for real, my dick might get the wrong idea.

And then the big navy SEAL would know the resident loser had a giant crush on him.

“You sounded like you were choking.”

Water shot out of my nose, making his assertion come true. “Crap,” I sputtered. “Shit.”

I grabbed a few tissues out of a box in a nearby drawer and wiped my face. “Sorry. No. Well, I mean, yes. Now I am.”

I wasn’t even sure what I was saying. Being around Saint was suddenly impossible if I wanted to keep any semblance of dignity.

“What do you need?” I asked in my haughtiest voice.

His eyes were like lasers, and his nostrils flared. “Why didn’t you tell me about the break-in?”

“Oh. Ahh… it was just a random break-in,” I began, picking at the edge of the lip of the water bottle with a fingernail.

“Bullshit.”

I blinked up at him. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

“Tell me about the antiques that were missing.”

My heart was suddenly in my throat. I didn’t want him or anyone to imply it was something other than a regular home invasion. The very idea I could be a deliberate target for violence was something I couldn’t handle. “No,” I whispered.

Saint’s stern face softened into one of concern. He reached out slowly and clasped my shoulder with a large warm hand. I wanted to lean into him and feel more of his strength.

“Augie, please tell me. I saw the police report online. Why do you think they took those specific items?”

It was the first time he’d called me that. The nickname was somehow extra intimate spoken in his voice. I felt myself begin to shake. “They looked old. Maybe they thought that was the same as valuable. It was just… you know, random stuff. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Saint’s eyes again. Fuck. I looked away, fiddling with the cap of my water bottle and looking for something that needed doing in the shop. I heard him take in a breath like he was preparing to ask me more questions, make the connection between the home invasion and the vehicle entry the night before, but what came out wasn’t what I expected.

“Okay. Well, I just wanted to make sure you knew you could call on me if you need anything. I mean… If you want me to check your house or help install extra security… I’m happy to help in any way. I don’t want you to feel—”

Thankfully, he was interrupted by an older couple pushing into the store in the middle of an argument about the difference between a soup tureen and a punch bowl. I greeted the pair with a pasted-on smile and quickly ignored Saint in order to help explain the features of both the tureen and the punch bowl. By the time I explained several rare pieces of cutlery and helped them purchase a sterling silver gravy boat that was neither tureen nor bowl, Saint was gone.

It wasn’t until later that evening when I went to close the shop that I found his note.

I chuckled at the mention of the marrow scoop and noticed he’d included his phone number at the bottom in small, clear print.

Specific to who I was? Was I a target because I was a Stiel?

I resisted seeing myself as the child my family seemed to think I was, but I couldn’t deny feeling off-kilter and freaked-out by the implication. I was determined to find a way to get my confidence back and feel strong after the burglary. I’d agreed to take the self-defense lessons, but secretly wished I had my very own bodyguard. Someone to keep me safe so I wouldn’t feel like I always had to watch my own back. If only I had the kind of job that could justify hiring one.

But that obviously wasn’t happening, and besides, I didn’t need anyone else to protect me. As my grandfather would say, I simply had a weakness that needed to be annihilated.

That was all.