SAMUEL WAS CRYING.

I rolled onto my side and groaned as I glanced over at my clock. 4 a.m.

Sighing, I grabbed the edge of my comforter and pulled it off my body as I slid my legs down the side of the mattress and fumbled to find my slippers. I pulled them on as I hopped to my door and down the hallway.

Samuel’s crying grew louder as I neared his room. I pushed open the door and hurried to the side of his crib.

“Hey, hey,” I whispered, reaching down and picking him up. Even though there was only a night-light in his room, I could see his beet-red face as he screamed. I brought him up to my shoulder and shushed as I bounced him up and down, then headed into the kitchen and opened the cupboard where his formula was.

“I know, I know,” I sang as I fought off a yawn.

Once the bottle was made, I headed into the living room and settled down on the rocker. His crying instantly stopped as he nursed the bottle. I leaned my head back and sighed, closing my eyes as I used the tip of my big toe to push the rocker back and forth.

This wasn’t the first time Sabrina had slept through his screams. I glanced over at her room. The door was shut, and there wasn’t a hint of her waking up.

I closed my eyes once more. I knew she was tired, but what if I wasn’t here? Would she just sleep through his cries?

Samuel shifted, causing the nipple to slip out of his mouth, which resulted in a large wail, but I managed to slip it back in quick enough that he calmed right down.

“Poor baby,” I whispered as I closed my eyes and continued to rock.

Somehow, I managed to put him to bed and crawl back under my comforter. When I woke the next morning, I half expected to find myself sleeping in the rocker.

I yawned, feeling the effects of waking up before the sun, and stretched out on my bed. It took some convincing, but I finally slipped out of bed and padded over to my bathroom, where I showered.

Once I was dressed and ready to go, I pulled open my bedroom door to find the kitchen light on. Sabrina was sitting at the counter when I walked in, looking tired. She had a mug of coffee in front of her, and she was staring off into the distance.

“Sleep okay?” I asked as I made my way to the coffee machine and poured myself a mug.

She yawned and shook her head. “Not really.”

I furrowed my brow. Then why didn’t she get up with Samuel?

“Did you not hear Samuel crying last night?” I asked as I sipped my coffee, welcoming the warm liquid and praying its effects would be swift. I needed a pick-me-up.

She frowned. “No.”

I set down my coffee and grabbed a banana from the counter. “It was, like, 4 a.m. and he was screaming.” I took a bite. “Loud.”

Her frown deepened. “I’m just really tired. I guess I missed it.”

The bite in her tone felt like a slap in the face, and out of instinct, I swallowed my half-chewed bite of banana. I could feel it as it slid all the way down. “I didn’t mean—”

“I’m going to shower before you go,” she said as she slid off the barstool and made her way into the hall bathroom.

I blinked a few times, not sure what that had been. My gaze lingered on the bathroom door. Was she mad at me? I figured she’d want to know that she’d missed her son crying in the middle of the night. Maybe if she knew, she would be more apt to wake up.

I finished my banana and threw away the peel, wiping my hands on the nearby dish towel. Ever since Samuel was born, it felt like she was pulling

away from me. I hated it. I missed my sister. She was in this dark hole, and I wasn’t sure I would ever get her back.

I sighed as I pushed my worries about Sabrina from my mind. It was probably all in my head, and if I pushed her too hard, she’d just disappear more. If I needed to take care of Samuel when I was around to lighten her mood, I would.

It was the least I could do.

When I went into his room, he was up and cooing at the mobile that Dad had bought him when he was born. It had stuffed seashells and sea creatures, and Samuel loved it.

When I picked him up, I realized he’d had a blowout, so I cleaned him up, dressing him in a white-and-black striped onesie. “You look like a robber,” I said as I picked him up and brought him to my shoulder.

He cooed as I made my way into the kitchen to get a bottle started. By the time Samuel was done eating, Sabrina emerged from the bathroom. She was wrapped in a satin robe and disappeared into her room without saying anything.

I glanced down at my watch and sighed. If I didn’t leave now, I was going to be late opening the store. If I was late, there was a chance that I was going to miss seeing Anders.

Even though I’d forced myself not to think about him, I couldn’t help myself. He intrigued me, and I was interested in seeing where things could go with him.

Thankfully, Sabrina pulled open her bedroom door and headed out into the living room five minutes later. I’d just set Samuel in his swing, so I hurried to grab my purse and slip the strap over my shoulder.

“I gotta go,” I said as I pulled out my keys.

Sabrina nodded as she headed over to the couch and grabbed the remote. She settled down without so much as one look in Samuel’s direction. I paused, glancing between them before pushing away the worry that was nagging at the back of my mind. Then I twisted the door handle and slipped outside.

I was just being paranoid, that was all. Sure, Sabrina seemed a little distant lately, but she was tired.

And so was I.

I climbed into my car, and before I knew it, I was pulling into my parking spot behind the bookstore. Miss Smitherson was taking out her

garbage and I waved to her, but she just ducked her gaze, tightened her sweater around her chest, and hurried back into her store.

I sighed as I grabbed my purse and a few of the packages of books that I’d put in my car last night. I’d need to unload the rest of the boxes once I unlocked the back door.

After dropping off the first load of boxes in the backroom and setting my purse down in the office, I walked back out to my car…and froze.

A man dressed in black, with his dark hair draped over his face, was standing next to my trunk, looking inside. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. I squeaked, and he must have heard because he whipped around to stare at me.

His bright blue eyes startled me as his gaze met mine. His jaw clenched and his brows drew together in a tight frown.

“I don’t have any money,” I whispered.

He looked me up and down before his frown deepened and he turned back to my trunk. He started shifting boxes around.

“It’s just books,” I said, a little too loud, as I stupidly stepped forward. I didn’t realize I’d approached him, until I was grabbing onto his forearm. “Please, they are just books. They aren’t worth much. Believe me. I don’t make much money selling them.”

He stopped moving and turned to stare at my hands on his arm. Realizing that it was probably a mistake to grab onto a man who was most likely going to kill me, I dropped my hands and took a step back.

“Sorry,” I murmured. When he glanced up at me, I winced.

He stared at me for a moment before he turned back to my trunk. “I don’t want your books,” he mumbled as he continued moving boxes.

“There’s no money back there,” I whispered. I drove a basic car and wore basic clothes. There was nothing about my appearance or life that would make anyone think I was wealthy.

“I don’t want your money,” he muttered before he sighed. “There you are.”

“What?” I asked as I shifted to peer into my trunk to see what he was looking for.

Tucked in his rather large hand was a small chipmunk. It was chirping as the man covered it with his other hand and straightened. It wasn’t until he was standing that I realized just how close I was to him. He was startled

as well, and for the first time, I saw an expression on his face that wasn’t a scowl.

I stood there like a frozen idiot before I tucked my hair behind my ear and stepped back. “H-how did he get there?”

The man blinked a few times as if to snap himself out of a stupor. His scowl returned as he leaned down and let the chipmunk go. It raced away, ducking under the fence that lined the alleyway.

“There was a hawk eyeing him, and he ran inside,” the man said as he dipped his face forward so his hair draped over his forehead once more.

“Oh…” I stood there with my lips still forming an o as he turned and started heading down the alleyway.

Confused why he was leaving so soon, I hurried after him. “I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” I said as I attempted to match his stride.

He didn’t stop or turn to acknowledge me.

“I just thought you were going to rob me. You know, because of what you’re wearing.” I motioned toward his clothes as if that was all the explanation needed.

He stopped, and it startled me so much that I almost tripped over my feet.

“So, you’re shallow.”

It took me a second to gather my bearings. But when I did, his meaning was not lost on me. “I’m not shallow.”

He furrowed his brow. “But you just said you judged me on my clothes.” Then his expression turned into a smile. “You’re a liar.”

“I’m not…I mean…” Words were flowing through my mind, but nothing was coming out.

He let out a short laugh and turned to start walking again.

“Hang on,” I said, thankfully able to put that sentence together as I reached out and grabbed his arm.

Once again, his gaze dropped to my hand, and I quickly pulled it away. Why did I keep touching this stranger? I tucked my hands into my pant pockets just to make sure I didn’t do it again.

He turned to face me, folding his arms across his chest and quirking the only eyebrow I could see behind his curtain of hair.

I took in a deep breath as I tried to process what had transpired over the last few minutes. “Listen, I just wanted to say thank you for getting the

chipmunk out of my trunk.” I glanced up at him with what felt like a strained smile.

“And you thought the best way to do that was by insulting my clothes?” My lips were open, but no words were coming out. Instead, they were moving up and down like I was a fish on land, desperate for air. “I mean…”

I scoffed and waved at him once more.

He raised his eyebrows like he needed me to spell it out. I sighed, my cheeks heating. I was already in this deep, I might as well keep digging. “When a single woman comes out of her store to find a large man, dressed in black, rifling through her trunk, the only conclusion she can come to is that you’re there to kidnap her and to do all sorts of unmentionable things to her.”

He stared at me as if he were processing my words. Then he scoffed, scrubbed his face, and muttered something that sounded like “I don’t have time for this,” before he turned his focus back to me. “Listen, lady—”

“Abigail.”

He paused as he met my gaze and then continued. “Abigail. Doing ‘unmentionable things’ never entered my mind. And I didn’t know that you were a lady, much less single. I was out for a walk and saw a chipmunk scurry into an open trunk.” He brushed his hands together. “And now that I know you, I realize that no man would be crazy enough to kidnap you.” He held my gaze for a second before he turned and walked away.

My brain didn’t have time to process what he’d said, much less come up with a quippy retort. So, I just stood there in the alleyway, watching him walk away, until he turned the corner and disappeared.

“I’ll have you know a lot of men want to kidnap me,” I shouted, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Mr. Harrison had just stepped out of his shop to toss a black bag of garbage into the community dumpster, and witnessed my word vomit. He quirked an eyebrow, and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

I pinched my lips shut, crossed my arms, and tucked my hands under my armpits as I hurried back to close my trunk. There was no way I was unloading the rest of the boxes now. I’d tackle that later.

Once inside my shop, I locked the back door and then leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. I kept my lips shut and screamed as loud as I could.

Who was that man? Why had I never seen him here? And why was he such a jerk?

I pounded my fist on my forehead as I pushed off the wall.

What was that? Why had all of my mental processing abilities failed me? I must have sounded like an idiot, talking to him. No wonder he’d smiled at me. The things I’d said? I winced.

They were pathetic.

I was still writhing over our interaction when I pulled a tray of blueberry muffins from the oven. I set them on the counter and went to unlock the front door, turning the closed sign to open at the same time.

I was muttering under my breath all the things I wished I’d said, and I didn’t notice the door open until Anders was standing in front of the counter with a large smile.

“Morning,” he said.

My heart stopped. Which was quite a contrast because it was pounding from frustration a few seconds ago.

“Anders,” I stammered.

He studied me, his expression faltering as if he was worried that he wasn’t supposed to be in the store. I blinked a few times, clearing my mind of the mystery man from earlier and turned my full focus on the man that made my entire body feel light as air.

“The door was open, so I thought I could come in,” he said as he pushed his hand through his hair. His dark blonde hair was more styled today, and I wondered for a moment if he’d done that for me…and my heart melted.

“Was that okay?” he asked, breaking me from my thoughts. “Hm?” I asked, not recalling what he’d just said.

He paused and then smiled, showing each and every one of his perfect teeth. “Me coming in here.” He flicked his finger from his chest to the floor. “Was that okay?”

I glanced to the front door, not remembering if I’d actually opened the store. With the closed sign facing me, I nodded. “Of course.”

He took a step closer to the counter. “Good.”

A heated silence fell between us, and his gaze lingered on my face. “You look amazing this morning,” he said.

Heat burned my cheeks, and I couldn’t fight the smile that spread across my lips. “You look good too.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

I nodded.

He pumped a fist in the air. “I showered today.” Then he leaned forward and winked. “Just for you.”

It was cheesy, but I was okay with cheesy. After all, it had been so long since a man had talked to me much less flirted with me. The fact that Anders had shown up after my embarrassing performance the other day, well, I was going to enjoy every corny pickup line he had.

“Can I get you a drink?” I asked.

He nodded as he scanned the counter behind me. “And whatever smells so good.”

“Blueberry muffins.” I nodded toward the pan cooling behind me. “And one of those.”

It didn’t take me long to whip up his coffee order—which I’d memorized from the first time he was here—and plate his muffin. He nodded toward the small table next to the wall. “Sit with me?” he asked.

I fought the giggle that wanted to emerge, because I wasn’t that girl. He pulled out my chair and waited while I set his order down before helping me push it in.

Then he sat on the chair across from me and pulled his coffee and muffin close. He took a few bites before he leaned back in his chair, extending his legs out in front of him and surrounding my chair. “How was your morning?”

I mentally scanned through what I’d done today, making sure to weed out everything that I thought would make me seem extremely boring—or less sexy.

Not quite ready to tell him about Sabrina or Samuel, I moved past that, and the memory of the man at my trunk floated to the front of my mind. That was juicy, and I was kind of interested to see if he was the protective type.

So, I started with the story. By the time I finished, he was done with the muffin. He raised an eyebrow as he pressed the crumbs together and then tossed them into his mouth. “That guy sounds like a creep.”

I nodded. “Right?”

Anders sat back, resting his hands on his thighs. “I can come by every morning to make sure you’re okay.”

I shook my head. As much as I wanted to agree to a full-time bodyguard, I was fine. Sure, this was a small town, but I doubted I would

see that man again. “He was probably just a passerby. We get those kinds of people every now and then.”

He studied me before he sighed and glanced out the window. “Well, my offer stands.”

I smiled. “I appreciate that.”

He stared out the window before turning to face me. “I want to ask you something. Will you promise that you’ll say yes?”

This was a strange sort of trust game, but I lived a boring life, and I was kind of ready to spice things up.

“Sure?” I asked, making sure to raise my pitch, so he knew that I was nervous about what he was going to say.

He leaned forward and rested his hand on the table right in front of mine. Then he slowly reached forward with his forefinger and brushed my knuckles. “Have a drink with me tonight?”