Still living in Box City. Thinking of declaring myself mayor.
The response is immediate.
Callan:
Send me a picture. I need to make sure you haven’t buried yourself alive in cardboard.
I laugh and snap a quick selfie, surrounded by the chaos of my half unpacked living room, wild hair piled on top of my head with an exhausted look on my face. I hit send before I can overthink it.
Three dots appear, then disappear, then appear again.
Callan:
Christ, woman. You’re a disaster. A cute one, though.
The compliment makes my cheeks flush, and I’m glad he can’t see me. This has been happening more and more lately—these comments that toe the line between friendly teasing and something else entirely.
My phone buzzes again.
Callan:
You know what you need?
Me:
Please don’t say more boxes.
Callan:
A distraction. Video call?
I glance down at my ratty T-shirt and gym shorts, then at the mess surrounding me. What the hell. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me looking worse.
“There she is,” he says when his face appears on my screen, all tousled hair and a lazy smile. He’s sitting in what looks like his office at the distillery. “How’s my favorite American this morning?”
I roll my eyes but can’t stop grinning. “Exhausted. Still surrounded by boxes, in case you forgot.”
Callan leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. He’s in a black T-shirt, forearms on full display like he doesn’t even know they’re a weapon. His smile curls slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world.
“It suits you.”
I groan. “You’re relentless.”
“Only with you,” he says, so casually I almost miss the implication.
Then he winks, and the tension breaks just enough to let me breathe again. Sort of.
I shift on the couch, tucking one leg underneath me. “What are you even doing at work this late?”
“Had some paperwork. Figured I’d get ahead of it.” He shrugs, eyeing the screen. “You look good, Bree.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious. “You need your eyes checked.”
He doesn’t take the bait. Just tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he likes taking his time with. “My eyes are just fine,lass.”
“Callan…” I start, not even sure what I’m going to say.
“I miss you,” he cuts in, his voice dropping lower.
