Witness Protection by Barb Han Page B

of flour until she looked down. A lamppost streamed light through the kitchen window. It was enough to see what she was doing. Her actions at the bakery had become so routine she could do them in the dark if she needed to. She mixed yeast into the flour, then added butter and water. When she’d beaten them thoroughly, she dumped the contents onto the counter. Pressing her palms into the mix, folding it over, kneading it, brought a sense of sanity and calm over her.
    Luckily, the bedrooms were on opposite sides of the house. She could only hope to work quietly enough so as not to disturb anyone again, and least of all Boomer. If he started barking, the whole house would be up faster than she could say
quiet.
    Sadie pressed her palms into the dough, rolled and repeated until her shoulders burned.
    Doing something familiar had her almost forgetting about the scary men chasing her and their ability to find her almost everywhere she went.
    She turned on the oven and left the dough to set on the counter.
    The feeling of eyes on her gave her a start. She turned to the doorway and caught a glimpse of a male figure filling the door frame. She knew exactly who it was. “Nick? I’m sorry if I woke you.”
    “You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.” He stood there all shirtless man and muscle, his jeans hung low on narrow hips, one arm cocked in the doorjamb and a grin on his face that made him even more handsome if that were possible. “What are you making?”
    His words traveled across the room as soft as feather strokes.
    “I got bored. Thought I would do something useful and bake a loaf of bread.” She motioned toward the counter. “That should do it. Needs to sit for a while.”
    “Can’t wait,” he said, pulling up a stool and taking a seat. “You’re used to being up all night, aren’t you?”
    “Yeah,” she said on a sigh. She thought about how different he was now. Women had lined up in Creek Bend to talk to him. But they’d had no idea what was really underneath the ball cap and sunglasses he’d worn. He’d always stood to the side, awkward. If he hadn’t been so shy she feared he would’ve asked her out on a date. Feared or hoped? The question had to be asked.
    She’d almost convinced herself that she didn’t need anyone. Her past certainly had taught her the same lesson. It would be a long time before she’d be ready to spend her Saturday nights with a stranger. And yet, didn’t he awaken a tiny piece of her that she’d tried to ignore far too long?
    It would be easy to lie to herself now and say she hadn’t given him a second thought before. But what good would it do? Sure she’d been interested. She knew then as much as she knew now that she would never allow herself to get caught up in feelings for a man. She wasn’t ready.
    There’d been a time when she thought she had it all figured out. She’d been dating someone nice, decent and reliable. She and Tom were on track to walk down the aisle. He’d hinted about making the relationship more permanent. She’d made it clear she wasn’t ready. Yet. Plus, she’d figured he was working up the nerve to ask her officially.
    A case of mistaken identity had changed everything about her life.
    She’d escaped with her life and nothing from her past. Her testimony had put Malcolm Grimes away for what was supposed to be a very long time.
    Nick moved behind her and encircled her waist with his arms, covering her hands with his, entwining their fingers.
    “You sure I can’t help with anything else?”
    She shouldn’t allow him to get this close to her, but her body screamed
yes.
    Bad idea. She ducked out of his hold and moved to the sink, filling a glass with water.
    “After Gran’s celebration tomorrow afternoon, we’ll dig deeper into the case again.”
    The mention of family caused the muscles in her shoulders to bunch. Her skin felt as though a thousand tiny ants were biting her. She straightened her back. “Your gran is very sweet, so don’t take