Page 10 of Touched

Maybe I should do this to fit in?

It looks pretty silly.

“What? I said that you might be on assignment,” she repeats.

“No,” he corrects quickly, his tone intense. “The part about hitting someone.”

The woman glances back to the ground, almost looking right at me for a moment. Then, she returns her concerned gaze to Callum, her head angled to the side. “Uh… maybe you’ve been in the heat too long. It is ridiculously hot here. But… there’s no one here… in front of your vehicle. Well, except me and you. And all these other inconsiderate fools honking at us right now in a hurry to move.”

Callum springs to a standing position and narrows his eyes at the female in front of him. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I did hit someone, a pedestrian, with my pickup truck. I would appreciate it if you’d please call 9-1-1 and have dispatch send an ambulance out.”

Crap.

I’ve read about ambulances in the books I have back home.

This can’t be good.

While Callum is discussing whom he may, or may not have hit, and what streets the ambulance should arrive at, I roll to my stomach and gingerly begin to crawl behind the handsome detective.

If he’s distracted and can’t see me, I can get away easier, especially since no one else can see me, either. That lady certainly couldn’t.

Swirling my fingers slightly, I create a slight summer breeze. Just enough to cover any sounds I may make in the background without causing any damage to the humans or their structures.

I need to get away.

I need to get home. Now.

How could I have been this stupid?

“What do you mean you can’t see her? She’s right there,” Callum says, pointing to where I was just sitting in the street, his voice closing in on a yell. His head whips around and his eyes land on me as he growls, “Hey! No, you don’t! You stay right there.” His voice intensifies as he yells so sharply, I immediately freeze in my tracks.

My heart leaps in my chest, in not the most pleasant of ways, when he runs over to my side and bends down next to me.

Hesitating, I lean away from him, my back almost against his vehicle’s large, round black, wheel. It rubs against my arm and feels… dirty. I don’t have time to check if it soiled my dress, but I’m pretty sure it did.

“Stop,” I tell him. “Why do you insist on following me? And now, let’s add hitting me with your vehicle to that list!”

Callum’s hand reaches forward, toward me. Shaking my head, I quickly throw up my own to block him.

He offers a gentle smile, softly saying, “Hey. I’m not going to hurt you. I didn’t intend to hit you. It was an accident.” His hand rises to the back of his neck, and he squeezes it while he continues, “I dropped my phone while driving. I bent to pick it up, which was fucking stupid on my part. But at least it brought me back to you.”

His hand is still on the back of his neck as he tilts his head slightly. His angular jaw sends quivers into my stomach as his green eyes crinkle at the corners. His smile is sweet, kind, though he looks chagrined. He has, what my books call, scruff on his face, unlike the majority of the Fae men in our kingdom. Most tend to have clean, perfectly smooth faces. Though, several, like Cyrus, have experimented with hair on their cheeks, chin, and upper lip on occasion. Most Fae males use magick to keep their faces smooth.

I’ve always thought hair on a man’s face looked strange, because it’s so uncommon in our colony, but it doesn’t on Callum. I’m intrigued and definitely attracted. I almost want to run my palm against his cheek to see if the scattering of hair is coarse or soft. But I hesitate.

“Are you all right?” he asks, removing the hand from his neck and extending it down toward me. He gently brushes my hair to the side of my face with his long, slender, but calloused fingertips. I shiver in awareness at his slight touch and fight the urge to lean in to him. I’m so in tune with his touch, I almost miss his words as he says, “No one is hit like that and walks away perfectly unscathed. Isawyou bleeding.” His brows draw together as he stares into my face.

Shaking my head to clear the strange fog he’s creating in my brain, I hold out my arms and rotate them up and down before bending them at the elbows and then straightening them back out. “I’m fine, see? You… you were mistaken.” My voice comes out slightly sharper than I intended.

“Detective,” calls the same woman as she rounds the front side of his vehicle and warily looks at him. “Who are you talking to? Are you all right? Do I need to call someone?”

Callum focuses his eyes on mine. He stares at me intently before glancing away and answering her. “No one.” He smiles at her with complete confidence, and my stomach tightens strangely. My entire body tingles and the urge to trip the kind woman shocks me. He drawls, “Sorry about that. Just hung up with the station. A lot on my mind. All’s well here. Sorry to have worried you. Thanks, ma’am. You have a wonderful rest of your day.”

The female stares at him for a moment, slowly nods, then backs away, looking at him through the corner of her eye the entire time. The sounds of the horns continue to blare around us as Callum hoists himself to his feet once more. He pulls on a silver part of the vehicle door, and it opens.

Smiling down at me again, he offers me his hand. I stare up at him, uncertain as to what to do.

Do I go with Callum to where he wants to take me, or do I fly away to the safety of Laric and the wards and never see this man again?

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