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“I would never hurt you.”
The unspoken promise and tone of his voice, added with the way he keeps staring at me, fills me with this electrical charge—making heat roll through my body. My gaze moves over him, taking him in.God.It should be against the law for a man to look this good. Tonight, he’s dressed more casually in a blue cashmere sweater and gray slacks. I never thought a man in a sweater would make me feel hot all over. I was wrong.So wrong.The light blue contrasts nicely with his dark features and sun-kissed skin. Being next to him in a t-shirt with the diner logo and jeans on while he looks like a movie star, makes me feel like a ragamuffin. I run a hand over my flat hair feeling all the flyaway strands that’ve come out of my ponytail during my shift.
“What would you like to order?” I ask, not needing to pull out my notebook. I’ll yell it out to Joe.
“Coffee, and if you have any of your pies left, I won’t complain,” Callan says playfully.
“You’re in luck,” I laugh. “We have some chocolate crème pie left.”
“Perfect,” he says, taking a seat at the bar.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” I ask.
“Just black.”
I nod then pour him a cup of coffee and set a slice of pie in front of him. “Here you go. Of course, I’m not sure it’s smart to feed my stalker.” I let him settle in as I lean against the counter, watching him. I breathe in the scent of his cologne, and I have to fight not to close my eyes in pleasure.
“Confession time,” he says quietly after taking a bite of the pie. “I tried to have some things delivered to you today. The shop said no one was home. When they still couldn’t deliver again tonight, I got a little worried that something was wrong. Especially since it was after nine.”
“So, you came all the way to my work to see if I was okay?”
“Yeah.”
We both stare at each other as it sinks in. I don’t know what to say, so I purse my lips, thinking it over.
“What are you thinking?” Callan asks, watching me a second before going in for more pie.
“I’m leaning toward the possibility that you are insane,” I tell him.
“Zoe, I was worried about you. That’s it. You don’t know me, so I get why you would be cautious. Yet, I need you to know that I’d cut my arm off before I’d hurt you.”
“I imagine that’s what every serial killer would say while trying to lure their victims into imminent doom,” I respond with a nod.
“I can provide several references, including the police commissioner of Miami along with several judges and other attorneys, if you’d like,” Callan offers.
I wince. “I don’t know that I trust anyone in politics or a lawyer.”
“You know I’m an attorney, right?”
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” I tell him, making him laugh.
“I’m starting to realize that breaking through your walls is going to be the biggest battle I’ve ever faced,” Callan grumbles, shaking his head.
“I’m not sure I understand why you’re even bothering to.”
“I know you’re special.”
I shake my head vehemently. “You just don’t give up.”
“If the reward is you, I never will,” Callan says solemnly. “Where have you been all day?”
“Right here,” I tell him flatly.
“You’ve worked all day?”
“The other waitress was a no-show, and I’ve had to cover for her all week. I get tomorrow off, though, and with my father out of town, I plan on sleeping all day.”
“You’re too young to be working yourself to death like this,” he says, shaking his head.
