Oh, hell no.
He’s going to sitdown.
I slide my hands out, taking up as much space as I can. And?—
Callum appears. He inserts himself between us, dwarfing the guy. And it’s not just a size thing. It’s something aboutCallum. His presence is all swagger and strength. A slow, methodical kind of danger.
He completely ignores my visitor.
Just shoulders past him, handing me a metal cup like I’m the only person in the garden. “You looked like you could use a wee refresher.”
The guy immediately recedes into the crowd. Callum has that effect, I guess.
Relief loosens a goofy smile onto my face. “You’ve got a real way with people, don’t you?”
He tilts his head, brow creasing.
And I ignore the way brawny, capable Callum becomes adorable when perplexed.
“I don’t follow your meaning,” he says.
“Never mind.”
I sniff the liquid in my cup, suspicious.
“I came to rid you of your pesky midge, but I was speaking truly.” His gaze flicks over me, assessing. “You fair have a weary look about you.” He nods at the cup. “Drink up, lass. ’Twill warm you and thicken your blood.”
“So you’ve said.” I smirk. “But if my blood thickens much more, I won’t be able to walk home.”
“Then I’ll carry you,” he says simply.
And I believe he would. Without hesitation. Without a second thought.
So I sip.
It’s smoother than what Aoife keeps in her kitchen, like honey and wine. I sip again.
He laughs. “Easy now, Rosie.”
He gently plucks the cup from my hands and sets it on the bench beside me. For a second, I think he’s going to sit. I feel strangely hollow when he doesn’t.
“You should be fine now.” His gaze sweeps the crowd. It’s not casual. He’s making sure.
“None will bother you.” His voice is calm. Confident. “They ken you’re with me.”
Then he’s gone. Plunged back into the dance.
While I sit.
People keep stealing glances at me, like they’re dying to know what my deal is. It makes me more self-conscious than I was already.
I pick up the cup for something to do.
Sip.
Sip again.
I start to relax. To unclench things that have been clenched since I arrived.
