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"You know me so well." Reed turned back to Kit, and I recognized the look in his eyes. Interest. Real interest, not just the casual flirtation he usually deployed. "How are you settling in? Need anything fixed, built, or generally improved?"

"I'm good, thanks," Kit said, but there was something in her tone that suggested she was anything but.

Reed must have heard it too, because his expression grew more serious. "You sure? Because I'm pretty handy with locks, security systems, that kind of thing."

Interesting. Reed's offer wasn't just neighborly helpfulness. It was alpha instinct responding to a distressed omega. The same instinct that had me wanting to wrap Kit in soft blankets and feed her until she stopped looking so fragile.

Kit hesitated, and I could practically see the internal debate playing out across her face. Saying yes felt dangerous, but saying no felt stupid.

"Really, I'm fine," Kit insisted, but she was backing toward the door now, clearly overwhelmed by the attention.

"Kit," I said gently. "Don't crush your muffins."

She looked down at the bag in her hands like she'd forgotten it existed. "Right. Thank you, Micah. For everything."

"Any time."

Reed stepped aside to let her pass, but I caught the way his eyes followed her movement, the protective set to his shoulders as she hurried out into the afternoon sunshine.

"Well," he said once the door had closed behind her. "That's interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"Our new neighbor." Reed approached the counter, but his attention was still partly focused on the window, watching Kit's retreating form. "She's spooked about something."

"You picked up on that too?"

"Hard to miss. She smells like vanilla and fear." Reed's expression was thoughtful. "Someone hurt her."

It wasn't a question, and I found myself nodding. "Seems like it."

"Shame." Reed's voice carried an edge I didn't often hear from him. For all his easy charm, Reed had very little tolerance for people who hurt those weaker than themselves. "Got any coffee that hasn't been sitting around since dawn?"

"Always." I poured him a cup from the fresh pot, watching as he added enough sugar to fuel a small aircraft. "So what's the verdict on Mrs. Carrington's chimney?"

"Minor blockage, nothing serious. Fixed it in ten minutes." Reed took a long sip of coffee and sighed appreciatively. "But while I was up there, I noticed something interesting about Kit's place."

"Oh?"

"No security system. Windows that would be easy to jimmy if someone really wanted in." Reed's green eyes met mine. "For someone who's clearly running from something, she's not taking many precautions."

"Maybe she doesn't think she needs them here."

"Maybe. Or maybe she doesn't know how bad things can get." Reed finished his coffee and set the cup down with more force than necessary. "I might swing by later, offer to take a look at her locks. You know, neighborly service."

"Reed."

"What?"

"Don't scare her off. She's skittish enough as it is."

Reed's expression softened. "I'm not going to push, Micah. But if someone's hunting her, I'd rather she be prepared."

Hunting. The word sent a chill down my spine, because something in Reed's tone suggested this wasn't just paranoia.

"You think someone's coming for her?"

"I think a woman doesn't pack up her whole life and move to the middle of nowhere without a damn good reason," Reed said grimly. "And I think whatever that reason is, it's not done with her yet."