Under His Protection (Protect and Defend 1)

“Anything planned today?” he suddenly asked.

She glanced at him but he stared straight ahead. So she did too. “Not really.”

Mason said nothing, as usual.

“I want to go to the coffee shop just up the road. They serve homemade pastries that are to die for.”

He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.

“If you’re lucky, I might buy you one.” She didn’t get to observe Mason eating too often but she’d like to see a sticky pastry covered in powdered sugar pass his lips just once. She bet he’d like it too.

“Thanks. I already ate.”

Of course, he had.

“Trust me, these can’t be missed. They’re so good.” She wasn’t going to let him leave that little coffee shop without at least having a taste.

Mason didn’t argue. He just kept pace with her as they approached Whitney Harbor. Her family’s property sat on the most western edge of the small town, and it was an easy walk into the quaint downtown district, a half mile at most. She liked being so close to the cute shops and tiny restaurants, yet she also felt isolated enough since her neighbors were so spread out.

She plain loved it here. If she had her way, she’d never leave. No one expected anything from her on Whitney Island. Heck, they barely paid her any attention.

It was perfect.

“Do they know who you are?” His question came out of nowhere and she wondered yet again if he could read her mind.

“Who, the locals? I guess so, but they don’t really care. They never acknowledge me outside of a friendly hello.”

He nodded, looked pleased with her answer. “I’ll wait for you outside the coffee shop.”

Blake halted in her tracks while he kept walking until he realized she wasn’t beside him. Stopping, he turned and faced her, a frown marring his sensual mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Why won’t you come inside with me?”

“I’ll stand out here. You don’t want to be seen with me.”

She rested her hands on her hips. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugged and even with his eyes covered by the damn sunglasses, she could tell he was uncomfortable. What exactly was he getting at?

“You wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” Mason finally said.

“The wrong idea?” she asked shrilly. God, she sounded like a nag.

“Don’t give out any information that can put you or your family in danger. Don’t tell anyone I’m Secret Service. Besides, if we’re seen together, people are going to think we’re...”

“Together,” she finished for him, her entire body suddenly growing warm. That wouldn’t be a bad thing, at least in her book.

“And we’re not.” His voice was firm in that macho, don’t-argue-with-me way he had.

Icy coldness wiped the warmth away, just like that. “So you won’t come in with me.”

“I’ll stand outside,” he said again.

“Fine. You probably shouldn’t even walk next to me, then.” She picked up her stride, her legs taking her farther and farther away from Mason with her every step. Yet again, she felt the telltale prick of tears at the corner of her eyes and she murmured a curse in frustration.

Stupid, stubborn man. Goading her like he did, like he was so damn good at.

Blake practically ran to the row of shops that loomed ahead of her, sprinting up the short steps to the coffee shop. She threw open the door with a loud bang, the bells attached to the top of the door jangled like Santa Claus announcing his arrival. Everyone within the cafe stopped to stare.