Married to the Alpha Cop

Reid! The cops are here! Run! I screamed out the window, pure panic clawing at my throat.

Before I could even blink, my brother was brutally tackled to the pavement, hitting the concrete face-first with a heavy thud.

We had just pulled up to the bank to deposit cash, but thanks to his illegal parking and my terrible lookout skills, we were currently looking like armed robbers.

Chapter 1

"Name?"

"Maeve," I muttered, my chin practically resting on my chest.

"You the suspect?"

"My brother."

"What's his name?"

"Reid."

"And your business at the bank today?"

"A deposit." I slumped in the metal chair, desperate to convey my innocence. "I swear on my life, Officer, we were literally just making a deposit. My family has zero criminal record. Why the hell would we rob a bank?"

"Then why did you try to run the second you saw a uniform?" The officer sitting across the table narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening.

I decided honesty was my only lifeline. "Reid told me to wait in the car and keep watch. If a traffic cop showed up, I was supposed to drive off so we wouldn't get a parking ticket. But I panicked, and I stalled the engine"

The interrogation room door clicked open. A younger cop stepped in, holding a manila folder. "Background check came back."

The interrogating officer took the file and flipped through the pages. He must have realized our records were squeaky clean. A lawyer and a designer didn't exactly fit the profile of a criminal mastermind duo.

He let out a dry scoff. "If you two had nothing to hide, why lose your minds over a parking patrol?"

I swallowed hard, dropping my gaze. "We were parked in a red zone."

He stared at me, speechless.

After another grueling half-hour and a thorough search of Reid's car, they finally concluded it was a colossal misunderstanding. The officer gave me a stern lecture about wasting police resources, blowing on his steaming coffee before taking a slow sip.

"Alright, you're cleared," he declared. "Call a family member to come pick you up."

A wave of dread washed over me. My parents had just flown out for vacation yesterday. I'd literally seen my mom post a sunrise selfie from Hawaii this morning.

If I called her to drag her back from the beach over this humiliating mess, she'd physically murder both Reid and me.

"My parents are out of state," I mumbled, forcing the words out. "They can't make it."

The officer glanced at me, then tapped a line on the file. "Says here you're married. Call your husband."

Perfect. I was going to have to suffer this humiliation anyway. I bit the inside of my cheek, at a loss for how to explain that my husband and I were basically strangers.

He raised an eyebrow at my hesitation. "What's with the face? What's your husband's name?"

"Callum," I answered weakly.

He paused, then let out a surprised chuckle. "Well, that's a crazy coincidence. We've got a guy in the major crimes unit named Callum."

My toes curled so hard in my shoes they cramped. How was I supposed to tell him that his Callum and my Callum were the exact same guy?

The heavy iron door of the interrogation room was shoved open, instantly silencing the chaotic noise from the hallway.

Callum, wearing a dark tactical vest, blocked the light from outside with his broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted frame. His commanding gaze swept the room, heavy with lethal authority, before he finally spoke in a low, dangerous rumble. "Derek."

The officer sitting across from me stood up and clapped him on the shoulder, greeting him cheerfully. "Speak of the devil! What brings you down here?"

I wanted the concrete floor to open up and swallow me whole.

Callum pointed a finger at me, a helpless smirk playing on his lips. "Here to pick up my wife."

The second we stepped out of the precinct, Reid hailed a cab and bolted. He flat-out refused to ride in the same car as me. One look at his face told me everythinghe despised my guts right now.

Knowing I had monumentally screwed up, I kept my mouth shut and trailed behind Callum like a kicked puppy, climbing into the passenger seat of his SUV.

He rolled down the window to let some air in. "Seatbelt."

"Right."

A tight, unexplainable knot formed in my stomach. I felt like a middle schooler sent to the principal's office. I clicked the belt into place and sat ramrod straight.

He glanced over at me, a soft laugh escaping his chest. "Why are you sitting like a statue?"

"I always sit like this," I lied, stubbornly keeping my eyes facing forward.

He just fired up the engine, not buying it for a second. The heavy silence in the car was suffocating. This was exactly what happened when you were practically strangers.

Chapter 2

I cleared my throat, forcing the words out. "Are you off the clock?"

He nodded. "Wrapped up the current case. Been pulling crazy hours for over a month, so I'm taking a personal day."

He glanced at the dash clock. "Past eleven. You hungry? There's milk in the console if you need something quick."

I shook my head. "I'm good."

He didn't push it, spinning the steering wheel with one hand. "What do you want for lunch? I'll hit the grocery store."

Callum was actually a freakishly good cook. The first time he'd made dinner, I'd practically inhaled the plate. But we'd only been married for two months, and he'd spent ninety percent of that time buried in back-to-back homicides.

He'd practically been living out of the precinct breakroom, let alone coming home to cook. If he was offering to play chef on his day off, I was down.

I was debating between asking for steak or a massive plate of ribs when his phone went off.

It was connected to the car's Bluetooth. The second the call connected, a rowdy voice blasted through the speakers. "Word on the floor is you just hauled your wife out of the station?"

Pure humiliation. My face burned, and I didn't dare make a sound.

Callum shot me a glance, amusement lacing his tone. "Yeah. Just left." He slowly eased the SUV onto the shoulder of the road and shifted into park.

The background noise on the call was deafeninghalf the precinct must have been crammed around the phone. The guy had to practically yell over the chaos. "Where are you going? Turn that rig around right now."

"I literally just laid down to sleep, heard your girl was in the building, and hauled my ass out of bed. Bring the missus back so the boys can meet her!"

A chorus of voices shouted in agreement. "Yeah, man! We haven't even met her yet!"

Callum looked over at me, a lazy smirk on his face. He tipped his chin toward the dashboard screen, waiting for me to answer.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I shook my head, keeping my lips clamped shut.

"Talk to me, man! Did you die?" the guy on the phone demanded.

Callum held my gaze, leaning back in his seat. "You guys scared her. I don't think she wants to come."

My eyes snapped wide. I glared at him, pure panic clawing up my throat.

Callum chuckled.

The line went dead silent for a solid three seconds before the guy asked, sounding significantly more hesitant, "Uh is she sitting right next to you?"

Callum hummed an affirmative, biting back a laugh as he looked back at me. "Want to say hi?"

He freed his right hand, reaching across the center console with dominant ease. His rough, calloused thumb found the sensitive skin of my nape, stroking the burning skin with a slow, undeniable possessiveness.

He paused, his voice dropping an octave. "Hmm? Baby."

That single word sent a rush of pure heat straight to my brain. My entire face flushed crimson.

We'd been legally married for two months, and he usually just called me Maeve, same as my parents. The pet name wasn't completely unheard of, but he'd only ever used it a couple of times. Specifically, when we were tangled up in the sheets.

The Bluetooth speaker erupted into absolute chaos, sounding like a cage full of hyped-up apes.

I met Callum's amused gaze, my head spinning from the sudden proximity and the heat radiating off his fingers on my neck. I swallowed hard, barely managing to squeak out, "Hi."

A roaring chorus of "Hey, Maeve!" answered me.

I wanted to die of embarrassment. I practically pressed my burning cheek against the cold passenger window, refusing to utter another syllable.

Someone cleared their throat, pitching their voice down to sound way more civilized. "Maeve, you wanna come grab a bite with us? The guys all know Callum tied the knot, and we've been dying to meet you."

"We've just been slammed with work. No pressure at all, we just want to put a face to the name so if you ever need anything in the city, you know who to call. You got time to swing by?"

Callum stayed silent the entire time, just watching me squirm with that lazy grin.

It was practically impossible to turn down that level of enthusiasm. I took a shallow breath and forced out a single word. "Okay."

They booked a table at an upscale steakhouse a few blocks from the precinct, supposedly owned by one of Callum's buddies. Almost his entire unit showed up, packing a massive private dining table wall-to-wall.

Chapter 3

A room full of testosterone-fueled guys meant one thing: the volume was deafening. Every single one of them shouted out some variation of "Hey, Maeve!" before they'd even fully crossed the threshold, making me want to slide under the massive oak table and never come out. Naturally, the main topic of conversation revolved entirely around Callum and me.

A rookie named Jesse, who had just joined the unit earlier this year, had a total baby face. When he smiled, his dimples and slightly crooked teeth were actually pretty cute. The rest of the squad clearly treated him like the little brother of the group.

Jesse was sitting directly across from me, radiating pure gossip energy. "So, Maeve, how'd you and the boss man meet?"

I thought about it for a second. "We've known each other since we were kids. Our families go way back."

The table erupted. "Childhood sweethearts?! No way!"

I shot a quick glance at Callum sitting next to me. He was watching me with a lazy smile, clearly not planning on throwing me a lifeline anytime soon.

I decided to just tell the truth. "Not exactly. When we were little, he never let me play with him. He just bullied me constantly. I was terrified of him."

The room erupted. The laughter was so loud it echoed off the walls.

"Callum, what the hell, man?"

"Make him sleep on the couch tonight, Maeve!"

Callum let out a soft chuckle, ignoring their raucous jeering. He deliberately dipped a piece of freshly peeled shrimp into the sauce, then assertively fed it directly to my lips.

He watched intently as I obediently swallowed it before he slowly, methodically wiped his hands with a napkin. "She was just too cute when she was little. I liked making her cry so that I was the only one who could comfort her."

My face burned with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, and I shot him a sharp glare.

But the guys weren't about to let the interrogation drop. "So, Maeve," someone else yelled over the noise, "when did you stop hating his guts?"

Another chorus of hoots and hollers broke out.

"Damn, asking the real questions!"

"Right for the jugular, man! Haha!"

That question actually stumped me. Callum and I had spent time together when we were kids, but he was three years older. We were always in different schools, and then he went off to the police academy where the training was totally isolated.

I ended up studying abroad for college, so we'd barely seen each other since we became adults.

Our families were close, sure, and there had always been this vague, half-joking "arranged marriage" pact between us since we were born. But nobody took that stuff seriously anymore, so neither family ever brought it up.

Until six months ago.

Callum's grandmother was seriously ill, and her dying wish was to see him settled down. He was pushing thirty and didn't even have a female friend, let alone a girlfriend. She just wanted to know he had a family before she passed.

Out of options, Callum came to me.

His original plan was to just pretend we were dating to give his grandmother some peace of mind. But I misunderstood. I thought he actually wanted to honor that ridiculous childhood pact.

I was twenty-six, and my mom was setting me up on blind dates every other day. It was driving me insane.

I figured, if I had to marry someone, why not him? I knew exactly who he was, he was incredibly hot, and he cooked like a five-star chef. Marrying Callum felt like the absolute best logical choice.

So, the very next day, I marched down to the courthouse with him, and we signed the papers.

That was the whole unromantic truth of our marriage. But I couldn't exactly tell a table full of his colleagues that we just settled for each other out of convenience, right? That would humiliate him.

I racked my brain for a solid ten seconds before blurting out the most ambiguous clich I could think of. "Love at first sight."

The table practically exploded.

Callum actually froze for a second, clearly not expecting that answer either.

"Oh, man, look at the boss's face! He had no idea!"

"Who fell for who first?!"

Callum recovered quickly, shaking his head with a slow, devastating smile. "It wasn't love at first sight for me. It was premeditated."

The cheers and whistles grew so loud I swear the ceiling shook. I stared down at my lap, my cheeks burning with intense heat, thinking to myself that the two of us were unmatched when it came to spewing bullshit.

Midway through the dinner, the captain of the major crimes unit came over to offer a toast. His name was Curtis, the same guy who'd called Callum in the car.

Chapter 4

Curtis looked to be in his late forties or early fifties. The rough stubble on his jaw looked like a rushed afterthought before leaving the house. The heavy, dark bags under his eyes and the severe bloodshot webbing in his sclera were the only proof of the insane workload the unit had pulled over the last two months.

He already had a decent buzz going, his face flushed. He threw a heavy arm around Callum's shoulder and slapped his back twice. "You got damn lucky, kid. Snagging a girl as good as Maeve."

Callum smiled, nodding in easy agreement. "Yeah, I did."

Curtis turned his attention to me. "Listen here, Maeve. If this punk ever steps out of line or gives you grief, you march right down to the precinct and find me. I'll beat the living hell out of him myself."

Callum let out a dramatic sigh. "You want to kill me, my parents want to kill me, even my grandpa would hobble over with his cane just to beat me to death."

"How many lives do you think I have? Like I'd ever dare mess with her."

I couldn't hold it back anymore and let out a snort of laughter.

Callum tilted his head, his dark eyes dropping to look at me. Seeing me laugh, he arched an eyebrow, leaning in to tease. "Right, wife?"

Curtis rolled his eyes, looking absolutely disgusted. "You young kids make me sick."

"It's called the honeymoon phase," Callum fired back without missing a beat.

The honeymoon phase. I let the phrase sink in.

After we signed the papers, his grueling work schedule and his grandmother's passing meant we had to push off any actual wedding ceremony. He was so swamped we'd barely seen each other since.

But tonight, sitting in this loud, chaotic private dining room, listening to a dozen near-strangers cheerfully call me their sister-in-law, it finally clicked.

I was actually married. I really had a family of my own now.

So yeah, I guess we really were in our honeymoon phase.

The direct consequence of that honeymoon phase was being ruthlessly pinned to the mattress and completely wrecked for half the night.

The second Callum stripped off his calm, disciplined cop persona, the pure, dominant possessiveness in his bones broke loose like a caged beast, carrying a feral madness that threatened to swallow me whole.

I passed out at some point, only vaguely registering his strong arms carrying me into the shower to clean me up.

I had no idea how long I slept before my ringtone shattered the silence. I'd left my phone out on the living room coffee table, and it just kept ringing, an incessant noise I couldn't shut off.

I forced my heavy eyelids open. Pale, grayish pre-dawn light was just starting to bleed through the curtains. Callum was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt on.

The noise was grating on my exhausted nerves. I blindly swatted at his arm, my voice thick with sleep. "Phone"

He caught my hand, tucking it firmly back under the covers and pulling the duvet tight around my shoulders. His voice was dark and gravelly from sleep. "I'll get it. Go back to sleep."

A wave of relief washed over me. I let out a soft hum, rolling over and instantly diving back into unconsciousness.

I slept like the dead. By the time my eyes fluttered open again, bright midday sunlight was flooding the room. The bedroom door was cracked open.

The rhythmic, crisp sound of a knife hitting a cutting board drifted down the hall, layered over the low murmur of the living room TV.

I dragged myself out of bed, every muscle aching. I wanted to go wash my face, but I couldn't find my hair tie anywhere. Callum had cleaned up the aftermath last night, and I had zero clue where he'd tossed my scrunchie.

I pulled the bedroom door open and padded into the hallway. "Callum, where's my hair"

The words died in my throat. I froze, staring dead at Jace, who was sitting right in the middle of my living room sofa.

One of his ears was heavily wrapped in white gauze. His right arm was strapped up in a massive plaster cast and sling, while his good left hand was casually cracking sunflower seeds.

The sight shocked me. "What the hell happened to you?!" I shrieked, my voice cracking.

Jace immediately shoved out his lower lip, milking it for all the pity he could get. "Maeve I got in a car wreck It hurts so bad"

You can't help but fiercely love the little brother you practically raised. Seeing him look so incredibly pathetic, a sharp pang of sympathy hit my chest.

I didn't even hear Callum step out of the kitchen. The ruthless, iron-fisted second-in-command of the Major Crimes Unit was currently wearing a pink floral apron.

He leaned casually against the doorframe and deadpanned, "You couldn't even guess how he crashed if you tried."

I whipped my head around, meeting his highly amused gaze. "How did it happen?" I demanded.

Jace panicked instantly, shouting, "Callum! Do not tell her!"

Chapter 5

Callum nodded, retreating back into the kitchen with his spatula. "Fine. My lips are sealed. Tell your sister yourself."

He tossed a look over his shoulder, treating me like a toddler. "Maeve, did you even wash your face yet? Go wash up. Food's almost ready."

It took forever to pry the truth out of Jace. He was too embarrassed to confess. It wasn't until we were sitting at the dining table, my patience visibly fried, that he finally, reluctantly spilled the story of his morning.

He'd been riding his motorcycle during peak morning rush hour. Traffic was gridlocked. An ambulance had gotten stuck in the mess, crawling at a snail's pace.

He suddenly remembered a viral video he'd seen online of a biker parting traffic for an ambulance, which apparently got his adrenaline pumping. So, he decided to play hero and clear the way for them.

Result? He rear-ended a sedan. The paramedics had to get out of the ambulance and load his dumb ass into the back of it.

I lost it. I collapsed against the table, laughing so hard my ribs ached. I couldn't even hold my fork.

But mid-laugh, my brain suddenly short-circuited. I snapped my head up.

"Wait. It's not the weekend. Shouldn't you be in school? Why the hell were you out riding your bike on a Wednesday morning?"

Jace clamped his mouth shut, staring fixedly at his plate.

Callum failed to bite back a laugh, sliding a sideways glance my way. "I was wondering how long it would take you to connect those dots."

I glared at him. "Why didn't you point it out?"

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "How could I possibly dare cross my new brother-in-law?"

Jace flushed a violent shade of red. "I begged Callum not to tell you. I knew you'd rip my head off."

"Oh, so you two are conspiring against me now?" I leveled a lethal finger at Jace. "Did you ditch class? Give me the exact truth, right now."

The kid actually tried to play the pity card again. "Come on, Maeve Look at me, I'm already in a cast. Don't yell at me"

"If you don't start talking, I swear to God I will punch your other ear just to make them match."

He instantly dropped the act. "I skipped."

"Are you out of your damn mind?!" I exploded, practically vibrating with rage. "You're skipping school now? Do you really think I won't snap your legs in half?"

I shoved my chair back, fully prepared to reach across the table and strangle him.

He was fast, instantly scrambling up to dodge my swing.

Separated by the dining table, I pointed dead at his chest. "Where did you go?! Spill it!"

He braced for impact. "An underground street race"

That just fueled the fire. "Are you brain-dead?! You're a senior, and you ditched school for a street race?!"

Jace wisely kept his mouth shut.

Callum caught my wrist, gently but firmly pulling me back down into my chair to play peacemaker. "Eat first. He's just a kid. Why are you blowing a gasket over a kid? Let's just talk it out calmly."

My blood was boiling so hot I forgot to be intimidated by the rugged detective sitting next to me. "Don't you dare defend him," I snapped at Callum.

He didn't let go of my hand, his thumb casually brushing over my knuckles. "I'm not defending him," he murmured smoothly, locking eyes with me. "I just don't want my Maeve giving herself a heart attack."

That single, low-timbered sentence instantly hijacked my anger, replacing it with a violent rush of heat to my cheeks.

After lunch, we hauled Jace back to his high school.

The three of usCallum, Jace, and Iall went to the exact same high school. By some twisted stroke of fate, Callum and Jace even ended up with the exact same homeroom teacher.

Callum grabbed a gift basket from a shop down the street, figuring he'd drop in and pay his respects while we were there.

Jace let out a miserable groan from the backseat. "If Eugene finds out I skipped, he's going to string me up by my toes."

I scoffed from the passenger seat. "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes."

He immediately defended himself. "My execution was flawless! I snuck out right after night study hall. As long as I made it back before first period this morning, he never would have known."

I clicked my tongue. "Oh, so now you're just mad you got caught?"

Jace instantly went mute.

I raked a critical look over him, exasperated. "Where the hell did you even learn to ditch class like a degenerate?"

He muttered weakly under his breath, "From Reid."

Reid. Back in high school, Reid was an absolute menace. He was a total playboy constantly breaking girls' hearts, throwing punches behind the bleachers, and skipping class.

But he somehow maintained a 4.0 GPA, leaving all the teachers in a perpetual state of loving him and wanting to strangle him.

That totally shut me up. I spent the rest of the drive ruthlessly tearing Reid apart in my head.

Chapter 6

Callum chuckled from the driver's seat. "Keep talking and you're going to give your sister an aneurysm."

I shot him a sharp glare. "I'm parenting here. Keep out of it."

He smartly held his hands up in surrender, smoothly shifting the conversation. "Is Eugene's temper still as explosive as ever?"

Jace immediately seized the opening. He leaned so far forward he was practically wedged between our front seats. "Explosive doesn't even cover it. The guy is a walking, breathing nuclear meltdown."

I couldn't hold back a laugh. "What kind of comparison is that?"

Encouraged, Jace kept going. "He keeps saying he's retiring after my class graduates. I have no idea how a guy pushing sixty has that much energy. He outlasts all of us."

"Every time we have a major exam, he makes every single student march into his office and explain our wrong answers to his face. How we messed up, why we messed up, and how to fix it."

"And he still roasts people in front of the whole class. If you slack off, you're dead meat. He has zero filter."

Callum and I followed Eugene back into his office to catch up. Eugene hadn't been my homeroom teacher, but he was the dean of our grade, so he definitely knew who I was. Callum actually looked a little surprised when he realized we knew each other.

Eugene took a slow sip from his travel mug. He tilted his chin, shooting Callum a look that practically screamed 'There's a lot you don't know, kid.' "Of course I know Maeve. She was one of my star students. Made me look good."

He turned to me. "If I remember right, you went to Cornell for architecture?"

I nodded. "Spot on. Your memory is insane, considering that was almost a decade ago."

Eugene arched an eyebrow. "Damn right it is. I remember every single kid who passes through my halls."

Callum leaned against the wall, dryly chiming in. "Funny, considering you didn't even recognize me five minutes ago."

It was true. Whether Eugene was just too blinded by rage over Jace's stunts, or Callum had just changed that much, the old dean hadn't recognized him at first glance. It wasn't until Callum actually called out his name that it finally clicked.

Eugene waved him off dismissively. "You've changed too much. Last time I saw you was at that class reunion years ago. Weren't you still in the police academy then?"

"Now that you're out in the real world" He raked a critical, assessing look up and down Callum's frame, finally giving his shoulder a firm, approving pat. "You actually cleaned up pretty nice."

Callum rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Eugene looked back at me, opening his mouth to ask another question. But he suddenly paused, his eyes snagging on Callum's arm. It was casually, possessively draped over the back of my chair.

He looked at the arm, then up at Callum. He stared at us for a long, heavy moment before finally asking, "Are you two?"

Chapter 7

I was still frozen, but Callum had already caught my hand. His rough thumb casually rubbed circles over my knuckles, a lazy, teasing smirk on his face. "You used to snipe high school couples in the hallways with a hundred percent accuracy, Eugene. You really can't tell?"

Heat rushed straight to my cheeks.

Eugene blinked, then let out a booming, knowing laugh. He pointed a finger at Callum. "You really punched above your weight class, kid. Actually managed to lock down Valerie's star student."

Valerie had been my high school homeroom teacher.

Eugene shifted his attention back to me. "Bad timing today, though. Valerie is out at a district seminar. She's not on campus."

I nodded. "Yeah, we figured. I actually gave her a call before we drove over."

Eugene nodded approvingly, murmuring a couple of "good, good"s under his breath. His gaze bounced between Callum and me, looking too satisfied with the situation. He leveled a look at Callum. "I hear you're with Major Crimes downtown now?"

Callum gave a single nod.

"And you, Maeve?"

"Partnered up with a friend to open a boutique firm," I answered. "We mostly focus on public architectural design."

Eugene nodded, looking genuinely proud.

The rest of the visit devolved into trading old high school war stories. Turns out, Callum wasn't exactly a model citizen back in the day.

Listening to Eugene tell it, Callum was one of the prime instigators who used to jump the chain-link fence to play PC games at the internet cafe down the street, and he definitely wasn't a stranger to throwing punches behind the bleachers.

But he was cunning. "Slippery as a snake," as Eugene put it. He never left a shred of evidence behind, meaning the old dean never actually managed to catch him red-handed.

When Callum was ruling the high school hallways, I was still stuck in middle school. We didn't cross paths much outside of the mandatory family dinners during the holidays. Callum was deep in his rebellious phase back then, radiating that untouchable, dangerously edgy teenage angst that made everyone give him a wide berth.

Being the exact same age as my brother Reid, the two of them obviously had way more in common than he ever did with me. Whenever our families dragged us on joint vacations or dinners, the two of them were always forced to drag me along as the ultimate third wheel.

They'd hit the arcade to play brutal fighting games, while I sat in the corner playing flash games on my phone. They'd sneak out at night to drink cheap beer with their buddies, and I'd just sit quietly on the curb inhaling greasy cheese fries.

Callum was an absolute master at wearing a mask, though. To this day, my parents still firmly believe he was a straight-A saint.

After leaving Eugene's office, we decided to take a slow lap around the campus. The massive brick wall in the main lobby of the science building was plastered with framed portraits of top-ranking alumni, constantly updated every graduation cycle. Back when I roamed these halls, we all sarcastically dubbed it the "Hall of Fame."

"Think your face is up there?" I tilted my head to look at him.

Callum casually slung a heavy arm over my shoulders, his dark eyes scanning the grid of frames. "It's been way too long. They probably ripped mine down ages ago. But there's a solid chance we'll find yours."

Since the bell had already rung for third period, the lobby was dead silent. We took our time, slowly drifting down the length of the wall. Every now and then, I'd spot a familiar face from my graduating class, a small spark of nostalgia hitting my chest. It really had been almost ten years.

Against all odds, we actually found him. The teenage Callum trapped behind the glass possessed a raw, untamed edge that was different from the disciplined detective standing next to me.

He was wearing the standard school blazer, his dark hair a little longer and messier than he kept it now. He was offering a rare, relaxed smile to the camera, his striking features radiating this inherent, undeniably protective energy. It perfectly matched the plaque beneath the frame that read: Admitted to the State Police Academy.

I looked at the photo, then up at his chiseled jawline, unable to resist a jab. "Have to admit, you were definitely prettier back then."

He let out a low, raspy scoff, his fingers reaching up to lightly pinch my cheek. "You didn't want anything to do with me back when I was pretty."

I batted my eyelashes at him in fake innocence. "I was in middle school. If I'd actually dated you, Reid would have literally murdered you."

Callum didn't even blink. "He couldn't take me in a fight."

I let out a dry snort, refusing to dignify that arrogant claim with a response.

Directly across the hall, right on the opposite wall, I finally spotted my own frame. By some twist of fate, our two photos were positioned exactly facing each other.

The girl staring back at me looked incredibly greenhair pulled back into a tight ponytail, hiding behind thick black-rimmed glasses, and offering a painfully shy, textbook 'good girl' smile to the camera.

Chapter 8

Callum stood there staring at the glass for a solid minute, making me actually blush under his intense focus. "What are you looking at?"

"The academy was incredibly strict back then," he murmured, his gaze tracing the photo. "They kept us on a tight leash, so I never really got a chance to see you. I didn't realize this was how you looked in high school like a shy little kid sister."

He looked down at me, then suddenly hooked a strong arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper right by my ear. "If I'd made a move on you earlier, do you think we could've gotten away with secretly holding hands in the hallways?"

I rolled my eyes, pushing lightly against his chest. "We were three years apart. We literally never overlapped on campus. Not a chance."

He shook his head, a wicked glint in his dark eyes. "No, no. Think about it. I'd graduate, come back to visit Eugene, and then sneak off to find you."

"We'd hold hands right behind his back. Think he would've had a stroke?" His expression was pure, unadulterated arrogance.

I couldn't help but laugh, though I wanted to smack him. "He would've literally murdered you"

Callum nodded, playing the martyr perfectly. "Right, right. Another person in line to kill me. You'll have to take a number, babe. The waitlist is currently at ten thousand and eighty-six."

I let out a snort.

Seeing me crack up, a genuine smile broke across his face. He gently pinched my cheek. "Dork."

We wandered the halls for a bit longer until the bell rang for the next period, deciding it was time to head out. Right before we pushed through the heavy front doors, I threw one last glance over my shoulder.

They rearranged those frames every single year. The older ones eventually got pulled down to make room for fresh faces. Day after day, year after year, countless teenagers' glory days quietly faded away with the changing out of those photos.

Callum had never seen my picture on that wall before today. But I had seen his. I stared at his picture every single day for three years. And now, our two frames hung directly opposite each other, staring back at one another across the gap of time and space.

As the holidays crept closer, things at the firm kicked into absolute overdrive. The construction sites were scheduled to shut down right before Christmas.

The entire architectural industry was essentially running on fumes, frantically trying to balance the end-of-year books and hand off the post-holiday projects so we could hit the ground running in January.

I had to hit the material sourcing center first thing in the morning to approve some steel framing. Callum dropped me off at the front doors of my firm before heading out.

After a chaotic morning, the client suddenly decided the raw material costs were blowing past their budget. That meant I had to scramble to alter the structural design on the fly. A memory suddenly clicked.

I'd drawn up a similar blueprint last year, but the firm had internally scrapped it before the pitch. That old design actually perfectly matched this current client's new restrictions.

I quickly dialed Callum, asking him to dig through the files in our home office and snap a picture of that specific draft. He agreed without missing a beat, and my phone buzzed with the photos just a few minutes later.

I pulled up the images and showed them to Tristan, my business partner. He was immediately hyped, agreeing the angle was solid.

The two of us immediately dove in, aggressively crunching the numbers and running new material estimates. We didn't even come up for air to grab lunch until past two in the afternoon.

Sitting at my desk with a takeout container, I finally had a second to actually check my notifications. That's when I saw it. Just minutes after Callum had sent over the blueprints, he'd followed up with something else.

One more photo. And two text messages.

[Knocked over a binder while looking for your file. This fell out.]

[Who is he?]

Completely confused, I took a bite of my food and tapped the thumbnail to load the image.

My entire body froze, the blood icing over in my veins.

The heavy silence of my office suddenly felt suffocating, pressing down on my chest until I couldn't drag in a breath. The phone nearly slipped from my trembling palm. Thump. Thump. My heartbeat pounded frantically against my eardrums like a war drum.

The sheer, paralyzing terror of having my deepest secret violently ripped open crashed over me in a tidal wave.

The photo was just a piece of paper. A standard, lined page ripped from a notebook, the edges already yellowed with age.

The handwriting was neat, only a few short lines, but it was heavily crossed out and rewritten in several placesblatant proof of the chaotic, panicked state I'd been in when I wrote it.

[August 27th.]

[He kissed me.]

[I don't know what to do. I just want to cry, but I'm too terrified to tell anyone.]

[If I say anything, how am I ever supposed to face him again?]

[What do I do, what do I do, what do I do]

Chapter 9

The short diary entry cut off right there.

Seeing those words again made my heart skip a violent, erratic beat. It was my diary. From almost ten years ago.

Thinking back, I had just shoved that old high school notebook onto a random shelf in our home office. I must have forgotten to clip that specific loose-leaf page into the binder rings after I wrote it. It was just wedged loosely between the pages, and now it had fallen out right into Callum's hands.

I was utterly screwed.

I let out a pathetic groan, burying my face in my arms on my desk. I had no idea what to do.

Three hours had passed since he sent that text. I usually replied to him in seconds. Now, he was definitely going to think I was too guilty to answer.

While I was agonizing over my impending doom, my phone chimed with a new text. I snatched it up instantly. It was Callum.

[Real nice, Maeve.]

I could practically see the dark, stormy expression on his face as he typed that. He hadn't used that kind of cold, clipped tone with me since we were toddlers fighting in the dirt. He was actually pissed.

Especially since I'd sworn up and down to him that I'd never had a boyfriend or any romantic entanglements before we got married.

My stomach dropped like a stone. I shakily typed out a few words, deleted them, typed some more, and deleted them again. In the end, I was simply too terrified to hit send.

I abandoned my lunch entirely, consumed by the impending disaster.

Across the room, Tristan was already rushing me to head to the construction site with him. I had to bite the bullet, shoving my phone into my pocket and pretending I'd never seen Callum's messages. I desperately justified it to myselfI'd just deal with it tonight when I got home.

It wasn't like he was actually going to murder me.

The direct result of that brilliant avoidance strategy was me being out of it all afternoon. I nearly stepped on a rusty steel nail twice.

After getting back from the site, I was mentally hyping myself up for the drive home when my phone suddenly rang. It was Morgan.

Morgan was my sister-in-lawReid's high school sweetheart turned wife. She was a K-9 trainer for the State Police. She'd been out of state for a training seminar the last few days and had just gotten back this afternoon.

Naturally, Reid had flown out for a business trip this morning, so she wanted to grab dinner with me.

"Grand opening, fifty percent off for couples! Come with me, please?" she practically begged through the speaker.

I frowned, thoroughly confused. "Shouldn't you wait for my brother to get back and take you?"

Morgan scoffed. "He's a workaholic. He won't be back until next week. This promo only lasts for three days. By the time he gets back, the deal will be dead and buried."

"But couples discount? We aren't exactly a couple," I muttered.

"Are you dense?" She giggled loudly. "We'll just pretend! Who says two girls can't be on a date?"

My jaw dropped. "Morgan, you're an evil genius."

Since I was absolutely dreading going home to face Callum's interrogation anyway, I used the opportunity to fire off a quick text to him:

[Getting dinner with Morgan tonight. Won't be home to eat.]

He didn't reply. Probably still fuming. My brief surge of false courage evaporated the exact second I hit send, leaving me completely on edge for the rest of the night.

Morgan noticed my lack of appetite halfway through our meal. "What's up with you tonight? You're totally spaced out."

Meeting her concerned gaze, my resolve crumbled. I needed to vent. She and Reid had been together forever and were still sickeningly obsessed with each other.

Her relationship experience completely eclipsed mine; I desperately needed her to analyze the situation. So, skirting around the heaviest details, I gave her a watered-down version of the disaster.

"I pissed Callum off," I mumbled, stirring my drink aimlessly.

She actually looked surprised. "He actually gets mad at you?"

I nodded miserably. "I'm pretty sure he's furious. I texted him earlier saying I wouldn't be home for dinner, and he left me on read."

Morgan nodded slowly. "Yeah, he's definitely pissed." She leaned in, resting her chin on her hand. "What did you do? Is it bad?"

"Not that bad" I hedged, wincing slightly. "I think?"

Chapter 10

Morgan laughed, swirling her drink. "What the hell does 'you think' mean?"

I slumped in the booth, burying my face in my hands. "It's just some old stuff. From almost ten years ago I just don't know how to explain it to him"

Morgan's eyes instantly narrowed, locking onto the scent of drama like a bloodhound. "Is this about an old flame?"

Under her laser-focused stare, guilt gnawed at my stomach. "I guess"

"Oh, please," Morgan scoffed, waving a hand dismissively, looking visibly relieved. "Everyone knows you've literally never even had a boyfriend. How bad could this 'old flame' possibly be?"

"It's probably just some innocent high school crush bullshit. Callum found out, and now his ego is bruised. He's jealous."

"Jealous?" I asked, highly skeptical.

"One hundred percent." Morgan slid into my side of the booth and threw an arm around my shoulders, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "This is an easy fix. Dealing with a man who has that level of extreme control issues requires a specific tactic."

"Listen to me. Put on the right 'battle armor,' and I guarantee you'll have him literally willing to give his life for you tonight."

I looked at her, a spark of hope fighting through the panic. "Really?"

"Absolutely." She tapped her manicured nail on the table. "Look at the facts. Who's more feral, your brother or Callum?"

"Reid. Hands down," I answered without a second of hesitation.

"Bingo!" She beamed. "And what do I do for a living?"

"You train police dogs."

"Bingo again! And does your brother heel when I tell him to?"

I pictured Reid, the arrogant menace, completely melting into an obedient golden retriever the second Morgan looked at him. I nodded furiously. "He behaves."

"Exactly." A triumphant, dangerous glint flashed in Morgan's eyes. "Tonight, I'm going to teach you exactly how to train a dog."

The implication was incredibly heavy. Heat crept up my neck, but I couldn't stop myself from asking. "How how do I train him?"

She leaned in close, dropping her voice. "Is Callum's uniform at home?"

I had zero idea where she was going with this, but I nodded obediently. "Yeah."

"What about the Class B uniform? The light blue button-down?"

I ran through his closet in my head and nodded again. "Yeah, it's there."

"Perfect." Her smile turned incredibly predatory, sending a shiver of goosebumps straight down my spine. She leaned entirely into my personal space and whispered a single sentence directly into my ear.

My entire face exploded in a violent blush. I frantically waved both hands in front of me, pure panic setting in. "No oh my god, Morgan, no I can't do that"

She just reached out and pinched my burning cheek, completely unfazed. "You guys are legally married! What's the big deal?"

I stammered, my brain short-circuiting as I struggled to find an excuse. I finally managed to squeak out, "The uniform is sacred Impersonating an officer is a federal crime"

Morgan actually paused, blinking at me for a second before bursting into a fit of breathless laughter. "Well, aren't you a little law-abiding citizen."

She tapped her chin, a sudden, sly glint flashing in her eyes. "Fine. We don't use his. But I have connections. I'm getting you a proper set of battle armor tonight, one way or another."

She immediately whipped out her phone and started typing furiously. I sat there practically vibrating with anxiety. Just replaying what she'd whispered in my ear made me flush violently from my scalp down to my toes.

Thirty minutes later, Morgan had dragged me halfway across the city and shoved me into a dimly lit adult boutique to pick up her "connection's" merchandise. It was a navy blue set, aggressively tailored to look like a heavily modified tactical uniform. The fabric strategically failed to cover any actual cleavage and barely offered a fraction of coverage in the back.

I stood in the middle of the store clutching the scandalous fabric to my chest, my face burning so hot it felt radioactive. I kept my eyes glued firmly to the floorboards, refusing to look at the terrifying leather contraptions hanging on the surrounding walls.

Morgan dropped me off right at the front gate of my complex. Even after I climbed out of her car, she rolled down the passenger window, flashing me a wicked, predatory grin. "Good luck, Maeve!"

As she drove off, she yelled out the window for the entire street to hear, "Have fun training your dog tonight!"

I slapped my hands over my ears and sprinted through the gate, mortified.

The second I stepped onto the residential pathway, a chorus of voices called out my name. I whipped my head around. Callum was running drills on the community basketball court with half a dozen guys from his squad.

They were all grinning, waving enthusiastically. "Hey, Maeve!"

Callum caught the ball at the top of the key. He threw a single, unreadable glance over his shoulder at me. His jaw was set tight. He didn't say a word, didn't offer a smile, just smoothly turned back around and sank a three-pointer.

His icy dismissal hit like a physical blow. The sudden, freezing tension clearly caught his squad off guard, killing the cheerful mood instantly. I stood frozen on the concrete path, the scandalous shopping bag burning a hole in my hand, paralyzed by the overwhelming, humiliating awkwardness of being shut out.

Chapter 11

The second I spotted Callum, my heart leaped into my throat, gripped by a suffocating, invisible hand. But the moment he looked right through me, that hand crushed it to dust. A sharp, stinging burn hit the back of my nose. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my vision from blurring.

The rest of the squad exchanged confused glances, the tension on the court practically suffocating them. Jesse finally broke away from the pack and jogged over to me, offering a hesitant, boyish smile. "Hey, Maeve"

His eyes dropped to the heavy shopping bags digging into my palms, and he reached out. "Here, let me grab those for you."

Remembering the scandalous, barely-there piece of fabric Morgan had shoved into one of those bags, sheer panic spiked in my chest.

I jerked my hands back, shaking my head frantically. "No, no, I got it. I'm good"

Seeing my panicked reaction, Jesse awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and dropped his hands. He looked at me, then threw a cautious glance over his shoulder at the dark, lethal aura radiating off Callum. "Maeve did you and the boss get into a fight?" he asked, his voice low