Page 11

For a split second, I let myself imagine her in a purple sports bra, and I damn near groan out loud. Fuck Blaze for telling me that. Or, hell, maybe I should send the bastard a fruit basket for telling me that. I've been jerking off for two days straight, thinking about her in nothing but a sports bra and panties.

I'm ready to lose it.

"You scared the shit out of me, Bishop," she complains.

"That's because you didn't lock the door."

"Forgot about it."

I narrow my eyes at her, not thrilled with that answer. "Excuses won't stop someone with bad intentions from strolling in here to hurt you, Callie."

She stares at me for a long moment, then shakes her head, an amused smile curving her lips upward. "Did you grow up in a big city?"

"I was born and raised half an hour from Dallas."

"Oh. Were you in the military?"

"Do I look like I was in the military?"

"Uh…" Her gaze makes a slow circuit down my body. My cock twitches like he's waving hello before her gaze travels back up, settling on my chest. "Is there any world where the answer to that question isn't yes? I've seen literal freaking Navy SEALS who are smaller than you."

Well, shit. I laugh quietly. I guess she has me there. "I wasn't in the military. I spent a decade doing construction before I went to work out at Carrington Ranch. Why all the questions?"

"What?" she asks, her eyes still locked on my chest.

I chuckle, pushing away from the wall to stroll toward her. Fuck, I missed her this weekend. "Why all the questions?"

When I stop in front of her, she startles, like she isn't sure how I got there. What the fuck was she thinking about? I'm dying to know. So is my cock.

I decide it's probably best not to ask and repeat my original question instead.

"Oh, um…" She blinks like she's trying to force herself to focus. "You act like you have a lot of experience with crime. I was curious."

"You calling me paranoid, Callie?"

She holds her thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. "Little bit."

"Hey now."

She just grins at me, shrugging. "Truth hurts, Bishop."

"I'm not paranoid, just concerned," I murmur, reaching out to touch her cheek. I can't fucking help it. I've been dying to touch her again for days. Now, she's finally in front of me again. Yeah, I'm going to touch her. I'm going to crowd her. I'm going to do whatever I have to do to get inside her head and under her defenses. "You're here alone. Anything could happen."

She shivers slightly, her eyes darkening. "This is Silver Spoon Falls."

"And that doesn't mean you're any safer here than you are anywhere else," I mutter, frowning at her. "All it takes is one crazed fan or angry former employee to turn a small-town studio into the place where the search party starts looking for you."

"You really think I'm in danger?" she asks.

I hesitate, torn on how to answer. I don't want to scare her simply for the sake of scaring her. But I need her to take her safety seriously, too. And if she isn't fully aware of what can happen, she'll never do that. She's too trusting, too sure she's not important enough to be harassed, stalked, or otherwise hurt. Reality doesn't work that way, though.

Predators don't care if you're the most famous woman in the world or a relative nobody. They'll attack simply because they can. The brighter her star shines, the more people will attach themselves to it. But that doesn't mean she's any safer right now. If the world worked that way, there wouldn't be millions of women carrying wounds that won't ever close.

"I think there are a lot of women out there who assumed they were safe too," I finally say. "And there are just as many still trying to deal with what it feels like to learn they weren't."

She flinches, paling a little.

"You have to be vigilant, because there are too goddamn many people in the world who can't be trusted. Maybe you're right about Cody, and he's just a thieving prick. But I'd rather you not find out the hard way, okay?"