Page 60 of Love Me Stalk Me
The coffee tilts dangerously, almost spilling on him before I manage to steady my grip. The collision knocks the breath from my lungs, and his scent—crisp, masculine—hits me fast, sending my heart into overdrive.
His hands go to my arms, steadying me, and for a second, I swear he tightens his grip. I try not to think about how good his hands feel on my body. Howbigand strong his fingers are. How they might feel stretching me-
-No!
I pull back, flustered, glaring up at him like this is somehow his fault. My cheeks feel warm, and I hope he attributes it to embarrassment.
"We have got to stop meeting like this,again," he says, amused.
I huff, straightening my blazer with one hand. "We have got to stop blocking doorways,again."
One brow lifts. "Blocking doorways?"
"Yes," I say, scowling. "You're always in my way. I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."
His mouth curves slightly. "Or maybe you're always running into me. And, I'm starting to think you're doingthaton purpose."
I roll my eyes, but before I can snap back, he tilts his head slightly, his eyes scanning my face. Those impossibly green eyes I pictured so vividly last night study me in a way that makes me want to squirm.
"You look tired."
I freeze.
Because HOW does he always seem to know? I clutch my coffee closer to my chest like it can shield me from his observation skills. "Wow. Thanks. That's exactly what every woman wants to hear first thing in the morning."
He does not look amused. "Did you eat?"
I sip my coffee. "This is breakfast."
He scoffs. "We went over this yesterday: coffee is not food."
I swear, if I had a dollar for every time he said that, well, I'd have like two dollars, but still. His concern is as frustrating as it is oddly touching.
"Look, I'm fine," I say, already done with this conversation. "Do you have something for me, or are we just going to play Intervention: Breakfast Edition every morning?"
His expression shifts slightly, and just like that, I know I'm not off the hook.
"We need to go over the security brief," he says, switching gears too smoothly. "I have a full outline for our approach during the holiday rush, including additional staffing and emergency response procedures."
I nod, trying to refocus. Right. Security. The thing he's actually here for. The reason we interact at all. But my brain is not cooperating. Because now, when he talks, all I can think about is last night. How I came with the very vivid image of him bending me over the conference table. I grip my coffee tighter, my knuckles turning white.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
"You seem distracted," Callahan says, eyes sharp.
Oh, you have no idea.
I clear my throat, fighting the heat creeping up my neck. "Nope. Totally fine. Just... thinking about the schedule for today."
I need to get out of this conversation before my brain betrays me even more. Luckily, I have an actual excuse. A legitimate reason to avoid being alone with him.
"I can't do a full sit-down review this morning," I say quickly. "We've got a very important VIP coming in, and this person's been trouble before. I need to be close by."
Callahan tilts his head. "Averyimportant VIP?"
I nod, halfway through pulling up the schedule. "Yes. Like… very important."
He blinks at me. “So… a Very Important Very Important Person?”
