Callum (Blue Halo Book 7)

he corners of Callum’s lips tugged into a smile as his gaze ran over Fiona’s intricate handwriting on the small recommendation tag.

This razor-sharp crime thriller will leave you awestruck as the author takes you on a journey of windy turns.

Truth be told, he didn’t even need to read Fiona’s words. Her name on the tag was enough. Her recommendations had never led him astray before.

He glanced at the door, recalling the words he’d heard on his way inside. Words about needing a date for a family wedding. About already having told her family she had a date when she didn’t.

He hadn’t been trying to listen, but it had been damn impossible not to. He’d heard everything. Right now, he could hear the breath slipping in and out of the woman by the corner window. The ticking of the second hand on the older man’s watch one row over. Even the beating of the woman’s heart at the end of the aisle.

And he knew the exact moment Fiona stepped back into the room, but that wasn’t because of any altered DNA. It was his acute awareness of her. She drew him in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just that he found the way she put him in his place sexy as hell. It was the way her chestnut eyes glowed when she looked at him. That she tried to put on a tough exterior, but he saw the vulnerability below the surface.

When he looked across the library at her, she wasn’t facing him. In fact, she was staring at a cart of books like it was the most interesting thing in the room and marching toward it like she was on a damn mission.

He bit back the chuckle that threatened to break free. He’d been coming to this library for months. It felt good to get back into reading. The security company he ran with his team took up a good chunk of his time, but he’d needed something else. Something just for him.

He spent a couple minutes picking up and putting back other titles, Fiona’s recommended book firmly in his grasp. Then he walked down the back wall, checking each aisle. He told himself he wasn’t looking for her, but that was a damn lie. He searched for her every time he was here. Hell, it was why he got through the books so quickly and only borrowed one at a time—so he had an excuse to come back.

It wasn’t until he reached the last aisle that he saw her. His lips twitched. Had she chosen this one because it was the farthest from him? That was something she’d do.

She was on a ladder, wearing a cream-colored top that pulled tight against her ample chest and a yellow skirt that flowed down to her knees.

Damn, she was cute. The kind of cute he wanted to tug closer to peel back the layers of. The kind of cute he could become lost in.

He started toward her, wondering what kind of witty retort she’d give him today. He was halfway to her when she gave the other side of the aisle a quick glance before cursing and pulling her phone from her pocket. The corners of his lips kicked up at the sound of that curse word on her sweet lips.

Oh yeah, she was cute, but she had a mouth on her. A mouth with lips so full his gaze was always drawn to them.

The smile slipped from his mouth when the color left her face. Whatever she was reading, it wasn’t friendly.

From the other end of the aisle, Callum spotted a male librarian step into view. His gaze zeroed in on her, an angry scowl pulling across his features. Then he shouted.

The one hand that anchored her to the ladder jolted, tugging the entire thing off the wall and off balance. She tried to right herself, but the ladder only rocked more. Then she was falling.

Callum was moving before he could stop himself, reaching her just in time to catch her body before she hit the ground.

Eyes that had been scrunched shut flew open, colliding with his. For a moment, they were both silent, her heart beating so hard in her chest it was like a hammer.

Then she spoke. Quiet words in a tone so soft, so gentle, that they slid over his skin like silk. “Thank you.”

He was used to her witty retorts, even her eye rolls. But this softer side? Yeah, he liked this too. Plus, she felt good in his arms. So good, he struggled to set her down.

The asshole’s voice cut down the aisle again, accompanied by the stomps of his feet against the carpet. “See, this is what happens when you mess with your phone at work.”

A muscle ticked in Callum’s jaw. When Fiona pressed a hand to his chest, he reluctantly set her down, then turned to the jerk who had clearly forgotten how to speak to women.

“Fiona—”

“You owe her an apology,” Callum cut through, inching in front of her.

The man’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. I saw what happened, and you owe her an apology.”

The man spluttered. “I’m the manager of this library, and I warned Fiona not to be on her phone at work not ten—”

“You also yelled at her while she was in a precarious position, which caused her to fall. If I hadn’t caught her, she could have broken her neck.” That statement was too fucking true.

The man’s cheeks reddened.

A shuffle sounded behind him, then Fiona appeared at his side. “You’re right, Rick. I was on my phone when you told me not to be. I’m sorry.”

The man huffed, his gaze flicking to Callum uncertainly, then returning to Fiona and hardening. “Well…good. Sorry I yelled.”

The insincerity in the apology almost had Callum laughing. Rick shot one more unhappy glance his way before turning and walking away.

Asshole.

The color hadn’t quite returned to Fiona’s face. Not only that, but a lock of hair had fallen from her bun, onto her cheek, and Callum’s usual restraint waned when his fingers twitched to reach out and slot the piece of hair behind her ear. He just stopped himself.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Her mouth opened and closed before she got any words out. “Yes.”

He bent and lifted the phone she’d dropped from the floor. He was tempted to look at the screen, see if whatever had the color leaching from her face was still there. “You went a bit white up there. Everything okay?”

There was a flicker of something on her face. Uncertainty. Maybe even a touch of fear. Then she blinked, and a cool, calm expression took its place. She slipped her phone from his fingers and stepped back.

“Everything’s fine. And while I appreciate you catching me, and saving me a broken neck, I don’t need you fighting my battles.”

He lifted a brow. “Letting Rick know he was a dick was more for me than you.”

Rick the dick…had a good ring to it.

Surprise flickered over her features.

He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t like pricks who put women in danger.”

Her eyes flared, and her chest rose on an inhale. Then she stepped back again, out of reach.

Running away?

“Okay, well…thank you.” She grabbed the trolley of books, her knuckles whitening, and took off down the aisle—fast.

Yep, definitely running.

Naturally, he followed, being sure to grab the novel he’d dropped first. “I grabbed your newest book recommendation.”

He caught the slight brow lift.

“Planning on damaging him?”

She always referred to books as him and her. Like they were her babies. “No. But I never plan on it. They just become unwilling victims of my carnage.”

The corners of her lips twitched. “I would appreciate you taking care of him. He’s newer than a lot of the other books you’ve injured.”

“If I bring him back in perfect condition, will I regain your book trust?”

She stopped, slotting a book onto a shelf. “Probably not. Once burned, forever damaged.”

He was pretty sure she was going for humor, but he didn’t smile, because there was something in her voice, something deeper, that indicated she spoke from experience. Had someone burned her? A guy? And now she had trouble trusting?

She pushed the cart a bit farther before stopping again. He paused beside her and lowered his voice. “I heard you need a date for a wedding.”

Her spine straightened and she spun. “You listened to my conversation?” Her words were an aggressive whisper.

“Not intentionally.”

Red tinged her cheeks, and she looked both ways before returning to him. “It’s complicated. It’s my sister’s wedding, and she’s…” Her voice was still low, but this time there was something else there.

Callum tilted his head. “Marrying your ex?”

Pain flashed through her eyes. Was he the guy who’d hurt her? “Yes. She’s marrying my ex.”

“I’ll do it.” Go to a wedding and pretend to date this gorgeous, feisty woman? Hell yes, he’d do that.

Her brows slashed together. “Do what?”

“Be your boyfriend for the wedding. It would be fun.”

Spending time with this beautiful woman who, for some reason, had tangled herself into his every goddamn thought wouldn’t just be fun. It would be a hell of a lot more than that.

“No.” She shook her head vehemently, as if to underscore exactly how much of a no it was. “Absolutely not. I’ve already decided I’m going to tell her I’m attending alone.”

Even though the words came out of her mouth, they were accompanied by a cringe. It was small, but he saw it. He saw everything with this woman, even the complicated layers she tried to keep hidden. And right now, she was trying to hide that it was important she didn’t attend this wedding alone.

“Well, the offer’s there if you change your mind.”

Her eyes widened. Maybe she’d been expecting him to push or to laugh and say he was joking. He didn’t do either.

“Do you have a pen?”

Her brows rose further. “A pen?”

One side of his mouth lifted. “Yeah, Fi. A pen.”

She swallowed, grabbing a pen from the trolley. He slid it from her fingers, then took her hand and turned it over. Damn, her skin was soft. And better yet, she didn’t pull away as he wrote his phone number on her palm.

“I’ve given you my number before,” he said softly, “but in case you threw it out”—which was something he suspected—“here it is again.”

He was almost certain she didn’t breathe the entire time he touched her. He finished writing the digits, but like his thumb had a mind of its own, he gently caressed her wrist. He lowered his voice further. “You still doing okay after the bar incident?”

His chest burned at the memory of that night. A bit over a month ago, a gun had been held to her head at a bar. Every muscle in his body had seized, and all he’d wanted to do was protect her.

That was the night he’d decided to pursue her. Figure out what this damn attraction meant.

That pale skin turned whiter. “I didn’t get hurt.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re okay.”

Not only had a pistol been aimed at her temple but the man holding her had been shot in the head—while Fiona was still in his arms. Callum’s heart had stopped when that shot fired. How easy would it have been for the civilian to hit Fiona instead of his target? Too damn easy.

“I am.”

Callum could usually detect a lie, thanks to his enhanced abilities. Little things gave people away. The dilating of the pupil. A hitch in their breath and alteration in the heartbeat…but for once, he couldn’t tell. Because she didn’t know if she was okay?

One more swipe of her wrist, then he lowered her hand and stepped away. “Text if you change your mind on the date thing, honey.”

Then he winked before heading to the desk.