Sophia wasn’t used to being around quiet men. Politicians weren’t exactly known to be the strong, silent type. If she intimidated easily, Blayze would be the guy to unnerve her. Luckily, she didn’t.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Vasco,” Mr. Reddy said as they stepped into the colorful restaurant. “Just the two of you today?”

“Yes, Mr. Reddy. Thank you.”

They followed the robed man to a booth Sophia had eaten in several times before. “Will this suffice?” he asked, resting the menus on the table.

Sophia nodded, lips poised for her standard yes, thank you, when Blayze spoke up.

“Would you mind if we sat along the back wall, please?”

Mr. Reddy grabbed the menus with a nod. “Not at all.”

Sophia worked to shed the agitation stirring within her. The window aisle might be busy, but it wasn’t as if the guests weren’t minding their own business. The chatter among the other patrons would drown out any conversation they had.

Still, she curled her lips into a smile as they scooted into the booth. Once Mr. Reddy had left them to consider the menu, Sophia ran a finger down the entrées. “I didn’t realize you wanted such an intimate setting,” she said under her breath. “If I’m not mistaken, they have a private room we could have all to ourselves if you’d like.” She leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. “Pull the curtain and we’d become invisible.”

Blayze merely glanced at her, not so much as a storm cloud in those blue eyes. “No, thank you.” He snapped the menu closed and pushed it away. “I know what I’d like to order.”

Sophia let out one short chuckle. “You’re kidding. You barely even looked at the menu.”

“I only like the bread,” he mumbled.

“The naan?”

He nodded.

She pinched her chin. “Adventuresome, aren’t we?” She set her eyes back on the menu, her gaze darting between her two favorite options. If she got both, she could take the leftovers home. Or see if her father wanted them. It was settled then. Anika came to the table and took their orders.

Blayze really did stick to the naan, nothing else. Except for a Pepsi, that is; that alone made him more relatable somehow.

“Glad it’s not too hot today,” Sophia said, sinking into the booth with a sigh. She kicked her shoes off under the table and twisted her ankles in slow clockwise motions, one after the next.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions now, if that’s okay.” Blayze pulled a notebook from a thin backpack he wore. It resembled a holster from the front, and Sophia guessed it held more than school supplies.

“Of course,” she said. “Ask away.”

He drafted a circle in the center of the page. “Is it just you, or are you dating someone?”

She fought the urge to lift an insinuative brow. Something about the guy’s serious nature sparked that playful side of her. “I’m single.”

He scribbled a small S in the center of the circle he’d drawn and put a box around it. “And your mother passed two-and-a-half years ago.”

“Yes,” she answered. “The day before Easter.”

With his head lowered over the notepad, Blayze looked up at her through his lashes. Sophia had always liked the lighting here, the way the bright, yellowed bulbs shimmered off the rich fabrics draped along the walls. But as the light hit Blayze’s blue eyes, it seemed to spark an odd flame somewhere in her chest. So piercing. Or maybe it was his expression. “For the record,” he said, voice low and husky. “I can see why you didn’t want to believe there was foul play in her death. I’m sure you’re still adjusting to that whole… revelation.”

He was right. She nodded, grateful for the acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

“Your father hasn’t remarried?”

“No. I don’t imagine he ever will. He’s still in love with my madre.” She recalled the way Papa’s campaign manager, Isabella, spoke to her father recently. More playful and familiar. Would he ever entertain having a relationship with her?

Blayze scratched an F next to Sophia’s S. She assumed it represented her father.

“Brothers? Sisters?”

She shook her head. “No. My parents struggled with infertility. They thought about adopting but they never did.”

He nodded, drew a few lines out of the circle and began asking about friends. Co-workers. Ex-boyfriends. Anyone she’d dated in the last three years. Sophia listed the five guys she’d gone out with over that time, and Blayze scribbled their names at the bottom corner of the page, first and last name.

“Oh,” she blurted, remembering one more. “Connor Kinsworthy.”

He glanced up. “You dated the mayor’s son?”

She nodded. “Yep.” Sophia smeared the single word with pride, but more on his father’s merits than his own.

“From when to when?”

“Last year,” she said. “I think from May to July.”

Blayze grimaced as he scribbled Conner’s name to the list.

“What?” Sophia asked.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, but a smile pulled at one corner of his lips.

“No,” she persisted. “Do you know him?”

“He tried joining the Navy the same time I did. Didn’t last more than a month.”

“Huh. He didn’t make it past training?”

“Nope.”

Anika came with their food. Sophia watched as she took in the pompous way Blayze had said what he had. “Not everyone’s cut out for it,” she said.

Blayze thanked Anika before shooting Sophia a pointed glance. “I couldn’t agree more.”

That sparked even more irritation. “Well, he’s probably going into politics now, like his father,” she said, straightening her shoulders when glancing at the spread. The rich, savory aroma was distracting her already. Which was a good thing, since Blayze seemed to be done with the topic as well.

They ate in silence for a moment or two. Sophia sampling both the chicken tikka masala and the palak paneer. “So, is that map thing something you learned in training?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s just a map I designed that… works the way my brain does, I guess.”

She ran her eyes over the jumbled map of circles, squares, initials and codes. It looked like a chaotic mess. “Hmm,” she only offered before taking another bite. “Have you ever tried these sauces before?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

He looked at her, a torn chunk of flat bread in one hand.

“Dip it,” she urged. “It’s good.”

Blayze surprised her by straightening his arm over the table and hovering the bread above her food. “Which one?” he asked.

She pointed to the masala.

“The orange one?” His face scrunched up like a little kid’s.

Sophia couldn’t help but laugh. “Trust me.”

“All those years eating overseas and I never touch the stuff,” he mumbled. “Get me across from Ms. Vasco and she’s got me sampling food that barely looks edible.” He dunked a corner of the naan, dragged it across the edge of the dish, and brought it to his mouth.

Sophia stared at him in suspense, oddly satisfied that she’d gotten him to try it. “Well?”

He nodded. “That’s actually pretty good.”

She grinned, more gratified than she wanted to admit. “Please,” she said, sliding the dish to the center and nodding toward it. “I got two dishes for a reason.”

He dipped another chunk into the orange sauce, eyeing the green dish with a wary brow.

“Feeling brave?” she asked.

Blayze shook his head, dunked in the masala again.

Sophia reached over the table and gave his forearm a pat. “You’ve had enough for today, little padawan.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, straightening up and attending to his notebook once more. He flipped the page, rested the rather-dull tip of his pencil on a fresh sheet. “Let’s talk about your schedule this week.”

Sophia tugged her planner from her large purse and rested it on the table. It contrasted Blayze’s messy mind map in every way. Straight lines, neat print, and as organized as a planner could be. She gave him a breakdown of her schedule. Tonight was the only night she’d be home this week. First thing tomorrow morning, they would head straight to California State University. The press would be there, along with thousands of anxious attendees.

“It’s likely that not one thing I say will get on the news, with all of the other elections going on right now, but I have to be prepared. If I mess up or say something wrong, they’re guaranteed to use that. Especially the news stations that support my father’s opponent. Sometimes I get the impression my one job isn’t to hit it out of the park, rather to keep from fouling, if you know what I mean.”

“I relate,” he said. “Half the time we’re doing good just to stay alive.”

Sophia nodded, his comment striking the deep admiration she had for the brave souls who served as he did. She was about to say so when Blayze spoke up again.

“I never realized running for District Attorney was such a big deal,” he said. “If I didn’t know better I’d think your father was running for governor or something.”

She nodded. “Yes. But if you consider all the power DA’s have, it makes a lot of sense.”

“Last item of business,” he said. “You asked that I don’t discuss things with Roman or your father without you. Or at least, that I don’t withhold any information from you. I ask that you do that same thing. If something happens, you come to me since I’m the one hired as your protector.”

“Why would I be tempted to bypass you?”

He shrugged. “Same reasons anyone under protection does. They don’t want to be restricted. They don’t think the situation is as serious as it might be. They don’t want to admit it’s really happening…. Take your pick.”

She looked at him as an odd yearning brewed within her. A desire to know what Blayze Brockton was really like. What he’d been through in life. How he was coping with his mother’s death. “I won’t hide anything from you,” she said, the words coming out in a whisper.

He gave her a satisfied nod, and for a moment Sophia was satisfied too. But then something occurred to her. Something she could hardly deem fair. He’d asked questions about her at length, made notes about her life that looked like some foreign coding. But he was under no obligation to confide in her in return. Something told her that this mysterious man who’d agreed to protect her, to put his life on the line essentially, may remain a mystery to her until their time together was through. A wave of melancholy washed over her at the idea of never really knowing the quiet warrior sitting just inches away.

“Hey, Blayze?”

He was focused on his papers again, but as he glanced up, his handsome brow furrowed.

“Thanks for agreeing to do this.”

The smallest lift pulled at one side of his lips. “You’re welcome.”