Page 7 of Sworn to Protect

“Another tall black coffee?”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Am I that predictable?”

“I’m not sure. You’re a hard one to figure out.” My words come out a little breathless as we continue our stare-off. Jill has, once again, made herself scarce. We need to have a serious discussion about her disappearing act. How can she help me keep my wits if she’s never around?

“Kenzie, dear. I heard you were working here.”

My gaze pulls to the elderly gentleman who just stepped into the café. I smile at the sight of Mr. Morgan. He’s my late grandfather’s age and always had a soft side for me. When I’d visit his winery with my grandfather, he’d give me extra scoops of their ice cream. I never complained.

“How have you been, Mr. Morgan? I hear you’ve been chasing your help away.”

“Rumors, I’ll tell ya—just rumors. I keep waiting for you to visit. We still stock your favorite coconut ice cream.”

“Mm-hmm, that was always the best. I’ll have to come and visit soon.”

Mr. Morgan’s winery is located farther outside of town. His vineyard is smaller than the Edington family’s, which owns most of the vineyards around here. Mr. Morgan always produced some of the best white wines. It drove Mr. Edington crazy.

“Let me grab this gentleman’s coffee, and I’ll be right with you.”

“Take your time, sweetie. Just fetch me a cup with two sugars when you can.” He ambles to the far corner table and settles onto the padded stool.

Nate raises an eyebrow. “An old boyfriend?”

I bark out a laugh despite him being close. “No. Just an old friend of the family.”

“You’re originally from here?”

“Not technically, but I have roots.” I swear a small smile shadows his face as I pour his coffee. But it happens so fast, I can’t be sure. I slide his cup across the counter. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He leans in closer, smelling fresh and clean as if he had just finished showering. I fight the urge to sniff deeper and take in his full aroma. “I’ll hang around a bit and make sure Mr. Morgan doesn’t cause any problems.”

“Wow, my personal protector.”

I expect another hint of a smile, but his face falls instead. He doesn’t say another word as he scurries to a table across from Mr. Morgan and then unfolds the Naperville Gazette.

Strange. Mr. Broody is back.

“What do you think Mysterious Man does for a living?”

Jill’s hushed words startle me. “Where did you come from?”

“You’d know if you weren’t staring so hard at him.” She stands beside me, arms crossed and head tilted as if sizing up Nate.

“I wasn’t staring.”But I so was.I grab a coffee mug and work my way toward the coffee pot.

“Seriously, though. What do you think Mystery Man does? I bet he’s a spy.”

“In Naperville?”

“He looks the part.” We continue to watch Nate, concentrating on the paper as I pour Mr. Morgan’s coffee. “He’s a dark-haired James Bond. Oh, the Pierce Bronson Bond. Not the Daniel Craig Bond.”

“I think you’ve watched too many movies.”

“He could be an author.” She snaps her fingers. “That’s it. He writes thrillers. Spy thrillers. That’s why he emits those dark, delicious vibes.”

“You’re a little whacked. Has anyone told you that?”

“Think about it. He can write anywhere. Maybe his next novel is set in a small winery town in California.”

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