No one to hear me.
Probably.
I think.
“You didn’t lock the door behind you.”
I blink. Did I?—
Idid too. And on top of that, we upgraded the locks yesterday so that they lock automatically.
He knows the code.
He knows the freaking code.
“Who are you working with? Why are you following me?”
He doesn’t answer.
Naturally.
But heisstaring rather intently at the two maps that one of the volunteers left laid out last night when she closed up.
“Are you spying on me?” I ask again. Or— “Oh my god, are youguardingme?”
His face freezes.
You’d think I couldn’t tell with Mr. Poker Face, but I’m paying close enough attention that I see the shift.
His face has gone as still as the eye of a hurricane.
“Youare.”
“Prefer not to.”
“Why are you guarding me?”
“What I do for my pretend fiancées.”
I’m not a growler. I’m truly not.
But for the second time in just a few days, I’m growling at a man.
He holds eye contact briefly, and I swear his lips twitch up.
Just the teensiest bit, but it’s enough for me to be certain he’s amused by me.
And that annoys the shit out of me. “I could call the sheriff and have you removed.”
“Someone broke in here three days ago and one of your staff left maps out overnight? That normal?”
I shiver.
I don’t want to, but I do.
Fine. I’m not here because I like to visit before work, or because it’s my favorite place in Shipwreck.
I’m here to make sure everything’s in order.
