Page 4 of Sworn to Protect

“You mean the town gossip?” I bark out a laugh. Some things never change. I may have only lived here my senior year, but that was plenty long enough to know who the go-to person was for juicy topics—Loose-Lipped Linda Longer.

“I suppose, but she keeps things classy. She is an elementary teacher.”

“How long ago did he arrive?” I ignore the fact that the town gossip teaches young children and shift my focus back to Nate. I moved back to town three months ago, and yesterday was the first I’ve seen of him. He couldn’t have been here for too long. From the impression I got yesterday, I thought he was passing through town.

“According to Linda, he checked in late yesterday afternoon.”

“Wait. You got all this information in less than a day?” I stare at her in amazement as she lifts a shoulder.

“Small town, remember? Everyone knows everything. Surely, you remember that. You haven’t been gonethatlong.”

Damn, if they’re gossiping that heavily about him after one evening, what are they saying about me? The girl who bragged about leaving this town and never coming back. My big dreams and all. I spin the gold band on my left ring finger. “No, I remember.”

I remember lots of things. Like how differently I thought my life would turn out. I had big aspirations of leaving this town and living in a big city. Of becoming somebody. I never thought I’d be a mother of two and a widow at twenty-eight.

I straighten as Nate ambles to the counter. His deep-seated eyes, which bear more mystery than facts, crinkle at the corner, and a smile coats his lips the moment recognition sets in.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Ms. Stranded.”

“Good thing you have your shirt on, or else I wouldn’t be able to serve you.” I can’t hide my smirk when he tilts his head back and laughs. The deep, throaty sound shoots right through me and straight to my thighs. My body’s reaction alarms me as reality rears her ugly head. I tamper down the guilt threatening to bubble. What am I doing? Flirting? It’s way too soon, not to mention highly inappropriate.

“You caught me at a rare moment. I assure you I don’t go around shirtless too often.”

“That’s a damn shame.” I cringe when the words leave my mouth, and Nate’s eyebrows shoot up. Jill chokes, which she tries to disguise as a cough. What is wrong with me? It’s not as if I haven’t seen deliciously cut abs before. I’m making a fool of myself. The grieving widow is so desperate for attention that she’s willing to shamelessly flirt with the first guy she sees. Maybe I should slither away and return once he leaves town.

“Did you get those new car tires yet?” he asks, seemingly letting me off the hook. He has no idea how much I appreciate that lifeline.

“Thisis the guy who helped you out until Tatman’s got there?” By the way she emphasizedthis, one would equate Nate to a piranha. But I know why she’s confused. Her biased opinion of himdoesn’t match that of an overly friendly person who goes out of their way to help.

Nate turns toward Jill, the stoic expression he wears so well back in place. He’s no doubt wondering where her astonishment comes from. I doubt he realizes he’s already the town’s newest shiny toy. Shiny boy toy, that is.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Nate, this is Jill Copeland, my manager.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Gruffness edges his tone, smothering the tiny bit of playfulness he held moments ago.

Jill’s face flushes. “Oh, well. I’m glad you were there to help. That’s very Superman-ishof you.” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder to the back hall. “I, uh, need to go to the back.”

We watch her backside retreat in silence. What was that?

“Did she think I was incapable of helping?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Small town. You’re the new shiny object.”

“Ah, okay.” He shakes his head. “So, the tires?”

“They couldn’t get the tires in until tomorrow, but I left the car there. Mom’s letting me borrow her sedan.” I bite back my sigh and plant a fake smile. He doesn’t need to know my financial woes, but it’s hard not to worry. Tires are an expense I didn’t anticipate. Who the hell knew rubber could be so expensive?

“Good.” He holds my gaze momentarily before diverting his eyes to the menu behind me. “I’ll take a tall black coffee.”

I give him the total and make his change after he hands me the cash. “Rumor has it you’re staying in town. How long are you here for?”

“Depends.”

I twist to the counter behind me and pour his drink. The coffee aroma circles around us, and I suck in the bittersweet scent more for encouragement than anything. “Depends on what?” I ask, fishing for information when I have no right.

“What the circumstances end up being.”

He goes quiet, and I don’t miss his elusiveness in answering my question. The gossip birds peck at my thoughts like a damn roosterpecking the back of a hen’s neck. Maybe there is a mysterious vibe to him. He certainly doesn’t like to talk about himself. Gah, I’m letting these townspeople get inside my head. Before long, I’ll be perched on my own branch in the gossip phone tree.

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