I reach up to touch my braided bun, ensuring I’m actually here experiencing this, and clear my throat.
“Hard to forget. Not that many—” I search for a word that isn’t tall, hot, inked, or unhinged “—men like you would be competing in a pie competition against an eighty-year-old.”
“Men like me?” Wes raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms.
“Anyway! Come with me to look up a coffee table book on pies.” I step around the cart, and Wes is completely in the way. Does he move? Nope. I swallow, and his eyes dart to my neck to watch the motion. I press my back against the bookshelf and sidestep along the structure. He turns slowly so that—when my feet stop working—he’s almost got me trapped against the stacks, kind of like he had me pressed against the doorframe last weekend.
Again, all breath leaves my body, which seems to be a common occurrence when I’m around this man.
“You know what?” His voice is low and gravelly.
“What?” I can feel the heat coming off his body and damn, it feels good to have my heart racing around a gorgeous man. I shouldn’t feel this way. I shouldn’t let myself be swept away with Wes’s obvious flirting.
But then again, why not? Don’t I deserve a little fun?
“I also wanted to ask you a question about the case.”
Oh, right. The case. It’s like a bucket of ice water dumps on my head as I scoot another few steps along the bookcase and step away from Wes. He turns to me, a half-smirk on his face, his light blue eyes dancing, probably at my flushed cheeks and the obvious way he’saffecting me.
“Yes, of course. What’s the question?” I stand straight and attempt to reclaim my dignity.
“I’m working on accessing Shane’s phone carrier records. You mentioned that he called you a few weeks ago. Do you remember the date of that phone call?”
“Um, no, but I can figure it out.” I pull out my phone and swipe to my calendar, then recall what it was like to receive the jarring call from my estranged husband on a Sunday morning. The library is closed on Sundays, and I remember lying in my bed with Honey Bunny snuggled next to me thinking that maybe Shane did me a favor by disappearing. “It was Sunday, February 1.”
“Great. Thanks.” Wes pulls his phone out and taps a few times on the screen.
“Have you figured anything out?”
Wes is the epitome of distracting, but he just reminded me why we even know each other. I should focus not on how hot Wes is, but the way he’s trying to help. The slightest jolt of anticipation shoots through me. Maybe he’ll actually find Shane for me.
Maybe I’ll be able to move on with my life.
“Not yet, Callie. But I promise I will.”
“Okay.” I breathe out, hope dissipating.
“How about that book on pies?”
Chapter 11
Library Card
WES
Iam now the proud owner of a library card.
I haven’t had one of those since I was a kid, but Callie hooked me up and sent me home with three different baking-related coffee table books.
Did I need to go find her at her place of work to ask my simple question? No.
Did I even need her to answer the question when I have the phone records at my fingertips? Also no.
But I got to see Callie Callahan in her insanely hot librarian getup. Fuck me. I wanted to reach over and pull her to me by her braided bun and push the sexy as hell cardigan off her shoulders and?—
Deep breaths, dude. I slide into my car and deposit the library books on my passenger seat.
Wherever he is, Shane must be using a burner phone. I got into his records and saw the one phone call to Callie’s number two and a half weeks ago, just like she said. That was the last phone call from his number.
