Page 33

Sloane placed a plate of burgers and fries on the table, thanking the customers with a smile. As she turned back toward the bar, Joy caught her eye.

“Callum’s here again,” Joy said, nodding in the direction of the door.

Sloane felt a grin spread across her face, but she didn’t turn around. She wasn’t surprised. Every night this week that she’d worked a shift, he’d come by the Eagle’s Nest, even if just for a few minutes.

Joy sighed dramatically. “Do you think he’s going to take over your tables for you again? I didn’t think it would be true, but our big, strong sheriff carrying plates out was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Sloane’s cheeks warmed at the memory. A few days ago, a bout of evening morning sickness had hit her hard midshift. Seeing her green tinge, Callum had gently sat her down, propped her feet up, and then proceeded to wait on her tables for a good thirty minutes—taking orders, running food, refilling drinks. He’d refused to let her get up until she felt completely steady again.

“I’m feeling fine tonight. I don’t need him to cover for me,” Sloane assured Joy. More than fine, if she was being honest with herself.

She grabbed a pitcher to make a round of iced tea refills. Callum had done so much for her this past week. Him checking on her so frequently meant the world.

But even more than that, he’d been so open, so public, about her pregnancy. About their baby.

It eased an anxiety she hadn’t even fully realized she’d been harboring. Some not-so-small, scared part of her had worried that Callum would be embarrassed or want to keep things quiet. But it was like he wanted to tell everyone in town that he was going to be a father.

Now, Sloane could hardly take two steps in the pub without a regular patron insisting she sit down while she took their order or hopping up to carry a heavy tray for her.

“So…” Joy sidled up beside Sloane as she came back to the drink station, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Did a certain handsome sheriff bring you breakfast again this morning, like he has been all week?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. Blueberry Danish from Fancy Pants and a green tea.”

Joy heaved another dramatic sigh, tossing the rag aside. “I can see what’s going to happen here. With you and Callum making googly eyes at each other—and my baseball bat obviously no longer needed—you’ll be back together in no time. And where does that leave me, huh? I won’t get to help raise this little munchkin after all!” She gestured toward Sloane’s belly with a pout.

Reaching out, Sloane grasped Joy’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “Hey, no matter what happens between Callum and me, you will always be this baby’s Auntie Joy. That’s a promise.”

Joy’s eyes glistened as she squeezed back. “You better mean that, missy.”

“Cross my heart.” Sloane traced an X over her chest, sealing the vow.

A familiar presence materialized behind her, and Sloane turned to find Callum standing there, concern etched into the lines of his face. “How are you feeling? Everything okay today?”

His gaze swept over her in that way she’d come to cherish, carefully assessing her well-being from head to toe. He took in her face for signs of fatigue, glanced at her belly as if to assure himself all was well, then checked her ankles for any swelling. The dual facets of his nature—the attentive sheriff and the devoted man—shone through in every look, every gesture.

“I’m good, I promise.” Sloane offered him a reassuring smile. “No sickness tonight, and it’s been pretty calm here.”

Callum’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, but the protective gleam never left his eyes. “You sure I can’t help with anything? Run food, bus tables?”

Warmth burst behind her ribs, filling her up inside. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. Really.” She held his gaze, willing him to see the sincerity, the steadiness in her own.

“Okay, then do you mind coming with me? I need to show you something out back.”

Curiosity piqued, Sloane nodded and followed him into the kitchen, waving at Hudson as they passed. The cool evening air kissed her skin as they stepped outside, and she glanced around, expecting to see whatever it was Callum wanted to show her.

But there was nothing. Just the two of them, alone in the shadowed alley behind the Eagle’s Nest. Sloane turned to Callum, a query forming on her lips, but before she could utter a word, he captured her mouth with his own.

This was their first kiss since she’d left him, and it stole her breath, her thoughts, her very gravity.

Callum’s strong arms banded around her as he pressed her up against the weathered brick wall, his body a delicious weight against hers. Fire raced through her veins, and she melted into him, into the exquisite rightness of his touch.

God, how she’d missed this. Even knowing they needed the space between them for a while, she’d missed this.

When they finally broke apart, both panting, Callum rested his forehead against hers. “I know nothing has changed,” he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m never going to want to stop kissing you, angel. Never.”

She exhaled shakily, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His eyes darkened, and he brushed his thumb across her kiss-swollen lips. “I want to show you something at my house on your next day off. Will you come?”

She smiled. “Is that a code for more kissing?”

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I can’t make any promises that there won’t be more kissing.”

“Good. Because I’d been thinking about sneaking on to your property at night in order to get you to tackle me again.”

His eyes darkened in a way that made all the womanly parts of her stand up and take notice. “The only place I want to tackle you is in a bed. And while I want that just about more than I want my next breath, I would also like to take us on our first date.”

“Date?”

“Yes, real date. Where I pick you up and bring you flowers. We go to dinner and then maybe a movie. I get to hold your hand and, at the end of the night, steal a kiss.”

Laughter bubbled up inside her, bright and effervescent. “Aren’t we past that?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ll never be past that. I want to always romance you, even after the baby is born. We did a lot of things out of order, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to skip dating. Call me old-fashioned, but you deserved to be wooed.”

God, this man did things to her heart she was never going to recover from. Never wanted to recover from. She would not have said she needed dates or flowers or romance.

But she did. And he’d recognized it long before she had.

“I would like that.”

He smiled and kissed her softly again. “Good. So would I.”

They slipped back inside a few moments later. Callum squeezed her hand, a silent promise, before heading for the door. “I’ll be back to walk you and Joy home after your shift,” he said, pinning her with a look that set her ablaze all over again.

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and watched him leave. Everybody was staring, and she knew they knew that she and Callum had been making out. But she couldn’t bring herself to care. Could barely stop herself from touching her lips and sighing.

Joy materialized at her side almost immediately, eyes wide and imploring.

“I see those swollen lips! You have to swear I still get to be this baby’s auntie,” Joy said, catching Sloane’s hands in her own. “Auntie Joy. Promise me!”

“No matter what, you’ll always be Auntie Joy.”

They embraced tightly, a watery laugh escaping Joy as they pulled apart. “Okay, enough sappiness. We’ve got work to do!”

As they fell back into the rhythm of serving drinks and bussing tables, Sloane marveled at the giddy lightness in her chest.

She was going to be wooed .

Sloane’s eyes blinked open from her bed in Joy’s guest room. A smile still lit her face from what Callum had said earlier. True to his word, he’d escorted Joy and her home, providing a demure kiss on the cheek before he’d turned to go.

Sloane wanted so much more than a demure kiss on the cheek.

She let out a sigh, turning her head toward the door, expecting to see the comforting sliver of light that always spilled beneath it from the hallway night-light that let out a rainbow of colors.

But there was only blackness, thick and impenetrable. Odd. Had the bulb from Joy’s favorite light from childhood burned out?

As Sloane’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, a shiver raked down her spine. The space next to her bed seemed cloaked in a shadow far more pervasive than it should be. The darkness felt almost tangible.

Her eyes shot open as realization slammed into her with sickening force. The door wasn’t just closed—it was blocked.

By a person .

The looming figure beside her bed was so close that its massive shadow eclipsed everything else. Too large to be Joy. Too large to be anyone who belonged in this room while she slept.

Sloane’s breath caught in her throat as icy tendrils of panic wrapped around her chest. Her mind reeled, thoughts scattering. Should she move? Scream for help?

Options flashed through her mind, each more desperate than the last. If she bolted for the door, could she slip past? The window, same problem. The intruder was already too close to her.

Her phone sat on the nightstand, so close but achingly out of reach.

The shadow shifted. Body heat radiated near Sloane’s face as a sweaty hand clamped over her mouth, fingers pressing hard against her skin, sealing her lips shut. The option to scream vanished.

The option to do anything vanished.

A low, venomous voice hissed in her ear. “I hate losing my most precious toys.”

Her heart seized at the sound, the voice she’d prayed never to hear again after Moldova.

Nikola.

“Don’t try to scream, bábika ,” he breathed, sick amusement dripping from his words. “It would excite me too much, and we don’t have time for that right now.”

“If you fight us, we will go after your friend too.” There was another shadow by the door now, smoother and less emotional. “She can stay asleep in her bed if you comply.”

Jakob.

Nikola’s grip tightened on her face as he forced Sloane upright and pulled her from her bed onto her feet. Her flannel pajamas offered little protection from the feeling of Nikola as he slithered up against her from behind. His hand remained over her mouth as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pressed something metal and sharp to her ribs. He buried his face against the side of her neck and inhaled deeply.

Bile rose in her throat. Caught between a knife and a pervert.

“Time to go,” Jakob uttered.

“Let’s take a walk together, bábika .” Nikola’s tongue seemed to dance out of his mouth as if it were tasting the air near her face when he spoke. The arm around her ribs squeezed more tightly as they began a slow, awkward shuffle out the door behind Jakob with Nikola pressed up against her.

Tears burned Sloane’s eyes. How could this nightmare be happening again?

Fighting back wasn’t an option, not with a knife so close to her unborn child.

To Callum’s unborn child. Their child.

What would Callum want her to do? She knew without a doubt he would want her to do whatever it took to survive. To do that, she would have to stay calm and keep Nikola and Jakob appeased until she could find a way out of this hell.

Lights flickered on, and the exact opposite of Sloane’s plan to remain calm suddenly appeared in the embodiment of Joy jumping out at the bottom of the stairs, blocking Jakob’s path. Her trusty baseball bat was gripped tightly in both hands. Fury blazed in her eyes as she faced down the intruders.

“Let her go!” Joy shouted.

“You should have stayed in bed,” Jakob said, calm despite the potential threat.

“If I had known how hideous your face was, I wouldn’t have turned the light on!” she said, swinging the bat at Jakob.

He lunged forward before the blow could connect, slamming his own body into Joy and sending her crashing into the drywall. Dazed, Joy slumped against the wall but still kicked out violently at him, catching him in the knee.

“ Fuck !” he screamed in pain as he limped back.

“Shouldn’t be surprised an ugly son of a bitch like you has to resort to stealing women out of their homes at night.” A toothy grin floated across Joy’s face, despite the danger.

Sloane wanted to tell her friend to stop. Not to provoke them. Joy didn’t know how bad this could get.

“Let’s see what that smile would look like without your teeth.” Jakob grabbed one of her ankles and dragged her away from the wall.He jumped on top of her. “Then we’ll see who’s ugly.”

Sloane sobbed against Nikola’s hand as Jakob began raining punches on Joy.

Joy’s hands shot up feebly in an attempt to block the violent onslaught. She kicked, clawed, scratched…but it did nothing to stop him.

“You know your smile would have made a wonderful trophy at any other time,” Jakob growled, punctuating his words with another vicious punch to her jaw. “It is such a shame.” Another blow snapped her head back. “To see it wasted on a corpse.”

The final punch echoed with a sickening crunch. Joy’s body went limp, all resistance extinguished. With a sneer of disgust, Jakob released his grip, letting her crumple to the floor like a discarded rag doll.

Sloane screamed, the sound blocked off by Nikola’s hand. She tried to dive for her friend, but his arms wouldn’t let her go.

“No, no, bábika .” Sloane stilled as she felt the knife pressed against the skin of her neck.

Her heart shattered, tears streaming as she gave one more helpless glance at her friend’s broken body, before Nikola dragged her out the door to a waiting van.

“We’re going to pay your boyfriend a visit,” Nikola whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “He owes us an apology. You are going to watch him give it to us.”

Callum? No. No.

She couldn’t lose Callum like she’d just lost Joy.

This was a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.