Page 4 of Nate Hayes

Willa took a step back, her hand gripping the counter's edge. “Why would someone take that?”

“I don’t know yet.” I grabbed my phone. “But I’m calling Frasier. And I’m locking this place down.”

“You think someone’s watching me?”

I looked at her—really looked. Her face had gone pale, her freckles standing out more starkly.

“I think,” I said carefully, “you’ve got someone in your life who doesn’t want you to be happy.” We walked inside.

She blinked at me.

And then, very quietly, said, “I think I know who it might be.”

She stood frozenin my kitchen, the sunlight catching the edges of her hair—long, wild, honey-blonde waves tumbling down her back like a damn shampoo commercial that had no business being this distracting in the middle of a crisis.

Her gray eyes—stormy and impossible to read—locked on the photo in my hand.

“I know who took that,” she said quietly.

I set the picture down carefully. “Tell me.”

Willa swallowed hard. “His name’s Derek. He’s my ex-boyfriend. We dated for a few months before I moved here. He didn’t take the breakup well.”

I leaned back against the counter, arms folded. “Definenot well.”

“He followed me around for a while. Left weird notes on my windshield. He showed up at the farmers' market a few times after I asked him not to. Always made it seem like it was a coincidence.” She looked down. “He’d never been violent… justwatchful. Creepy.”

“Did you report any of it?”

“I tried. But it was always just shy of actual harassment. No threats. No texts. He’s smart—knows how to push the line without stepping over it. The police said they had nothing to bring him in for questioning.”

I ran a hand down my face, adrenaline still buzzing under my skin.

And then I looked at her—reallylooked at her.

Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted just slightly, like she hadn’t quite caught her breath. That soft curve of her jaw. Theway those gray eyes flashed silver when she was afraid but trying to be brave anyway—the subtle tremble in her hands.

God, she was beautiful.

Not just beautiful—breathtaking, in a down-to-earth way.

Strong and stubborn, with that fierce independence and a heart bigger than her damn herd of goats. And in that moment, all I could think about was how much I wanted to protect her.

And maybe how badly I wanted to kiss her.

Those lips… yeah. They looked like trouble.

The kind I’d walk into on purpose.

Focus, Hayes.

I blinked, forced my brain to reboot.

Now wasn’t the time for fantasies and heat and whatever the hell she was doing to me without even trying.

Now was the time to get serious.

“I need a picture of this Derek guy,” I said, grabbing a pen and notepad. “Any chance he’d know your routines? Where you deliver your products to? Where you park your car?”

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