Undercover Protector. Molly O'Keefe

open wide enough for her to see him. He faced her and, in some deep place, she braced for her first glimpse of the man, wondering if her memory had somehow made him worse or better than reality. But the sunlight hit the scar tissue and the deep blue of his eyes and Maggie realized he looked the same as she’d remembered.

      Startling. In several different ways. His eyes met hers and a tingling rush of blood whooshed up her spine. Her neck went hot. Just the kind of reaction she was trying to control.

      “What do you need?” he asked. Not rude, but not polite, either.

      “Nothing.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to let you know I was here, in case you heard me banging around or something.”

      “Great.”

      He smiled.

      She smiled.

      “Okay,” he said, stepping away from the door as if he’d like to shut it.

      She waved and stepped back into the darker shadows of the hall. He closed the door, cutting off the light.

      What a weird guy, she thought.

      JESUS, CALEB. Do you have to be so weird?