Page 10 of Thirsty Bodyguard Summer

“That sounded suspiciously efficient.”

“I slept enough.”

“Where?”

Her head turned slightly. “Somewhere you weren’t.”

“That covers most of Florida.”

“It was intended to.”

I sat back, grinning. She faced forward again, but I caught the small shake of her head.

The Salty Spoon occupied a faded yellow building near the boardwalk, with a striped awning over the entrance and a line of six people already waiting outside. A gull stalked beneath the benches like it had a reservation. The agent pulled into a narrow space behind the restaurant, where stacked crates and two dented delivery carts crowded the service lane.

Cassidy stepped out first. She checked both ends of the lane, then opened my door.

“Stay beside me until we’re inside.”

“I’m beginning to think you enjoy saying that.”

“I’d enjoy saying it less if you stopped trying to turn every instruction into foreplay.”

My feet hit the pavement. “So you’ve noticed the potential.”

“I’ve noticed that you’re awake.”

The kitchen door opened before I could improve my answer. A server in a black Salty Spoon T-shirt waved us in.

“You made it before the rush,” she said. “Come on. I saved the back booth.”

“Thank you,” Cassidy said. “We may need this exit again without warning.”

“I already cleared the carts away from the door. You won’t get trapped behind the pancake mix.”

“That’s the kind of hospitality I appreciate,” I said.

The server laughed. “My niece had your face on her bedroom wall for six years. Please don’t make me tell her I killed you with a box of Bisquick.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Cassidy pointed toward the dining room. “Keep moving, Hart.”

The restaurant smelled like bacon and syrup. Sunlight pushed through the front windows and striped the worn plank floor. Hundreds of abandoned flip-flops covered one wall, each marked with a date or a handwritten excuse.

I slowed beside a sparkly pink pair mounted above the register. “There has to be a story.”

“You can read it from the booth.”

Cassidy didn’t touch me, but her position left only one direction open. I followed it.

Our booth sat beside the swinging kitchen door. Cassidy took the seat facing the entrance and removed her sunglasses. Her green eyes swept across the front windows, the register, the restrooms, and the line outside before settling on me.

“You can stop studying the room,” I said. “I’m right here.”

“I know exactly where you are.”

Heat tightened low in my abdomen.