Callum (Blue Halo Book 7)

Callum’s fingers were tight around the wheel as he took a hard right. Fiona only lived a few streets away, but it felt too damn far. Someone was in her house? Who? Why?

Another right, this time onto her street. The second he reached her driveway, he slammed his foot on the brake and grabbed his pistol.

The front door opened before he reached the porch.

“I told you to lock yourself in the bathroom,” he growled, not feeling capable of soft or gentle right now.

“I was in the bathroom, but I didn’t hear anyone, and when your car screeched to a stop, I came out.”

Fuck. The person could have been waiting for her. He pushed that to the back of his mind as he stepped forward and cupped her cheek. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. And she did look okay too. Damn, she was brave. He entered the house, then stopped and listened. For heartbeats that weren’t supposed to be there. Breathing or movement.

When he heard none of it, he closed and locked the front door. “I can’t hear anyone, but I’m still going to check the place. Don’t move.”

Before he could step away, she grabbed his arm. “Callum…be careful.”

He forced some of the anger down. “Always, honey.”

He moved into the living room, again listening for any sound that didn’t belong. There was nothing. Good. But that didn’t mean no one had been there. He moved around the house, checking every entry and exit point. Everything was locked. Every window, the front and back doors…he even checked the small bathroom windows, which were closed and locked.

When he returned to her, she still looked nervous, but a bit more color had entered her cheeks. “Were there any doors or windows that you closed or locked between waking and letting me in?”

She shook her head. “No, I went straight from the bed to the bathroom to the door.”

He let that sit for a moment as he holstered his weapon. “Everything’s locked up. What did you see?”

“Just shadows of movement. It shifted down the hall from the living room.” She sighed and scrubbed her face. “I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t see anything. I was half-asleep and my bed was cold and I was missing you—” She stopped, eyes widening like she hadn’t meant to say that.

One side of his mouth lifted. “You already know I was missing you too, honey.”

Her hands dropped from her face, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was on the phone talking to Stacey about those texts, then I actually got another text, and it just freaked me out. I shouldn’t have called.”

She got another text? Fuck, he hated that.

He stepped closer, touching his thumb to her chin and tilting her head until she met his gaze. “I’m glad you called me. I want to be the first person you think of when you need help.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Absolutely yes. It meant she trusted him to keep her safe.

“Well…thank you.” Then she wet her lips, and it took a damn storm of restraint not to look down at those lips. “Now that you’re here, you could always stay the night…if you want, that is.”

His gut tightened at the thought of another night in bed with her. Holding her. For the first time since arriving, he let himself focus on the fact that she wore his T-shirt. She could have worn anything, but she’d chosen that.

It made every protective and territorial instinct shoot to life. “I’d like that.”

“Okay. Good.” Then with a nod, she moved around the house, turning off all the lights before surprising him by taking his hand and leading him to her bedroom. He stripped down to his briefs, not missing how she carefully avoided looking at his body, before he slipped into her bed. It smelled of her—fresh and citrusy. Her entire house screamed “Fiona.” Her books scattered across the coffee and bedside tables. Little trinkets and photos, and the splashes of blue and purple around the place. It was all her, and he loved it.

She shuffled over so her head rested on his chest. She did it so easily, like this was their place together. He slipped an arm around her waist, loving how she melted against him. He’d been in bed when she’d called, not sleeping, because he’d been missing exactly this.

“Warm?” he asked.

“Toasty. Thank you again for coming. I really am sorry I called you for nothing.”

He kissed her head. “It wasn’t for nothing. Something scared you. You call and I’ll come. Every time.”

Her fingers dug into his chest. He held her as her breaths evened out and she fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t drift off right away, though. Instead, he listened to the sounds both inside and outside of the house. The whistle of the trees, the odd engine on the road. Because even though it didn’t seem possible that anyone could have been in her house tonight, with everything locked up tight, the fact she’d been scared enough to call made every part of him stand at alert.

Fiona rolled onto her back, scrunching her eyes as rays of sunlight hit her eyelids. Man, oh man, she felt well rested. Like a deep, slept-ten-hours-straight well rested. And she knew exactly why…Callum. His body heat. His heartbeat in her ear. Maybe her tired mind had conjured up the shadowy movement in her head as a means to get Callum here because she’d known he’d come. That had to be it, because every damn window and door had been closed and locked. Thank God Callum hadn’t been pissed.

Her eyes opened to find the other side of the bed empty.

Slowly, she pushed into a sitting position, scanning the room as she did. It wasn’t just the other side of the bed that was empty, the room was, too. And if the silent house was anything to go by, he wasn’t here. She was alone.

Her heart dropped, because the only thing that could match sleeping with the man was waking up to see his beautiful form beside her…something she was not going to get today. Sigh.

Okay, time to get up, get dressed, and go to work like a normal adult who wasn’t dependent on a man.

She was just pushing out of bed when she saw the piece of paper on the bedside table. A smile bloomed as she reached for it.

Sorry to run out, I had an early meeting. Come into Blue Halo anytime today and we’ll look into that number. Hope you slept well. I certainly did. Cal x

Oh Lord. The man was too good. Ha. Like that word even did him justice.

She spent the next half hour getting ready. She’d just pulled her shirt on when a knock sounded at the door, and she already knew who it would be. Jenny. Her friend only lived a street away, so if they were scheduled to start at the same time, they went into work together. She was a bit early, but at least Fiona wasn’t half undressed and running late today. That happened way too often.

She pulled the door open to find a beaming Jenny on the other side, tray of coffee in her hand. “Hey, stranger! I missed you.”

Fiona chuckled. “I was only gone the weekend.”

“I know. It really made me realize how boring this town is without you.” She pulled Fiona into a tight one-armed hug before coming into the house and lowering the coffees to the kitchen island. “I made a trip to that coffee shop you love because I need you to tell me everything before work. How was the wedding? How hot did you look? And did anything happen with you and Mr. Sexy?”

Fiona grinned as she closed the door. “Better than I thought it would, not sure about hot, but decent, and yes.”

Jenny’s brows rose. “Yes?”

Of course that was the part her friend heard. “Just a few kisses and snuggles.”

Jenny’s eyes narrowed, and there was a short pause before she shook her head. “Nope. I don’t believe you. There was more.”

“There was no sex.”

Her friend looked like she still didn’t believe her.

Fiona grabbed one of the coffees, almost groaning as she sipped. She’d missed The Grind. “He may also have stayed over last night.”

Surprise shot Jenny’s brows up. “What?”

“It wasn’t intentional. I woke up and thought I saw someone in the house, so he came over to check the place.”

Concern flittered over her friend’s face. “What do you mean, you thought you saw someone?”

“It was nothing. I was half-asleep, and when Callum checked the house, it was all locked up, so I couldn’t have seen anyone.” Her fingers tightened on the cup. “I’ve been getting some offensive texts from an unknown number, and I think that just freaked me out.”

“Texts saying what?”

“They’re not nice…” When her friend continued to look at her expectantly, she lifted a shoulder. “That I’m a whore. That I need to keep my hands off what isn’t mine.”

The shock on Jenny’s face was almost comical. “Who exactly are you touching who isn’t yours? Callum?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Callum. Maybe Freddie.”

Jenny leaned forward, elbows on the island. “Freddie? Asshole-who-cheated-on-you Freddie? Why on earth would you want him back?”

“I don’t.” She lifted her coffee, taking another small sip. “He actually came to our room on his wedding night.”

“He didn’t!”

“He did, and he told me he’d made a mistake and the only reason he married Amanda was because she’s pregnant.”

Jenny’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit. What did Callum do?”

“He stormed out of the room and threw Freddie into a wall. He clearly wanted to punch the guy but didn’t, thank God.”

“God, your life’s like a soap opera. Are you okay? Did you tell Amanda?”

“Nope. And I don’t plan to.” When Jenny just stared at her, she gave a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Jesus. Well, I don’t really feel sorry for her after what she did.”

Exactly. “Now that you’re all caught up, should we walk to work?”

Jenny laughed as she stood. “Oh, I am far from caught up. There are way too many missing details from that story. But you can share them with me on the way.”

“We should go the long route then.”

They both laughed as they crossed the living room. She was locking the door when thoughts of the previous night came back to her. The shadow in the hall. The sound that woke her. It was all in her head…right?

Yes. It had to be.

When they hit the sidewalk, Jenny linked her arm through Fiona’s. They’d made it halfway down the street when her phone vibrated from her pocket. She tugged it out, hoping it was Callum, but the smile slipped when she saw the text. Not from Callum. Her pulse spiked at the words in front of her.

“So, tell me more about—” Jenny stopped. “What’s wrong?” She glanced down at the phone in Fiona’s hand, an audible gasp whipping through the air.

Unknown number: You think I’m joking? Keep your fucking hands off my man, or you’ll wish you had.