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Turning around to head out, I pause because it looks like Owen wants to say something, but then he changes his mind and walks back to the kitchen.

I wish there were something I could do to make him more comfortable talking to me.

Letting out a sigh, I lock up behind me, and when I pass Owen, I suddenly stop dead in my tracks.

Just do it.

Before I can second-guess myself, I ask, “Want to come with me to the diner once we’re done?”

I get the feeling he’s going to shoot me down, but then he surprises me by saying, “Sure.”

A smile splits over my face, and feeling like I’ve just won a prize, I hurry through the door to tell Miles we have forty-eight bottles of Jameson.

Once I’m done and I’m walking through the bar area, Harlan chuckles and says, “Enjoy your date.”

“Hush,” I scold him with a playful glare. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

When I enter the kitchen again, Owen throws the apron into the laundry, and noticing me, he heads toward the back exit and holds the door open for me.

I increase my pace to catch up to him, and as we leave the bar, a tense silence settles between us. Walking down the sidewalk, I once again become overly aware of the man next to me.

His steps are confident, and I pick up on how he keeps his head down while his eyes continuously scan our surroundings.

He probably had to be on guard all the time while working as a private contractor.

Suddenly, Owen takes hold of my arm, and I’m pulled to his other side so he’s between the street and me.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep from swooning, my heartbeat speeding up. He’s being protective, and I love it.

When we round a corner and a couple comes from the opposite side, Owen moves closer to me and places his hand on my lower back. My arm brushes against his side, and I get a whiff of his addictive scent.

Dear God, just being near him like this is the sweetest torture ever.

Never in my life has a man affected me the way Owen does.

Once the couple has passed, he doesn’t pull away, and I can’t keep my heart from doing a happy dance.

I glance up at him and notice how he’s still scanning our area.

“You can relax,” I say, hoping to put him at ease. “It’s pretty safe around here. I’ve walked to the diner many times for a midnight snack, and nothing has ever happened.”

Owen’s eyes snap to my face, and his features grow tense. “You walk to the diner in the middle of the night?”

“At least every other day. They make the best vanilla shakes.”

His hand moves to my arm, and he pulls me to a stop. With a serious expression, he orders, “Don’t walk around alone so late at night.”

“The area is sa—”

“You’re an easy target, Annie.” The tone of his voice has a predatory quality that causes goose bumps to spread over my skin. “It would take them seconds to grab you off the sidewalk.”

His strong reaction catches me a little off guard, but because I’m crushing hard on the man, all I hear is that he cares about me.

Just then, a patrol car comes down the street at a slow pace, and I gesture at it. “See. Safe.”

Owen glances at the cruiser, but instead of relaxing, his arms suddenly lock around me like steel bands, and I’m hauled off my feet.