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That told me more about the household than an explanation would have.

Sybil glanced at me. “I suppose you’re going to stand there and watch me eat.”

“I’ll eat too if there’s enough.”

Laurie brightened instantly. “There’s enough.”

“I knew inviting the bodyguard inside was a mistake,” Sybil muttered.

A laugh escaped Pamela as she opened the bakery box.

Breakfast turned out to be egg-and-cheddar pastries, thick slices of apple bread, and enough coffee for people who had slept badly. I took the chair with the clearest view of the front windows and ate while Laurie tried to put another pastry on Sybil’s plate.

Sybil blocked her with one hand.

“I’m eating.”

“You’re dismantling it.”

“It still counts.”

“You’re twenty-nine years old. I shouldn’t have to explain chewing.”

Sybil gave me a look. “You see what I deal with?”

“I’m staying out of this.”

“Coward.”

“Professional judgment.”

The word slipped out more dryly than I intended.

Sybil smiled.

My cock thickened beneath my jeans. I reached for my coffee and concentrated on the heat against my palm instead. She was exhausted, under criminal suspicion, and now under my protection, which made wanting her inconvenient as hell.

Sybil ate half the second pastry before leaving the table to change. I heard her moving down the short hallway, then a door closed.

Laurie watched me over the rim of her coffee.

“You’re going to stay with her the whole time she’s at the farm?”

“That’s the plan.”

“What about when she’s working?”

“Especially then.”

Pamela folded the empty paper wrapper from her pastry into a small square. “She’ll fight you if she thinks you’re treating her like she’s incompetent.”

“I’d noticed.”

“She’s good at what she does,” Laurie said.

“I’ve read enough about the event to know that.”

“That isn’t the same as seeing her do it.”