Page 19 of Shake Your Boo Thang

It’s not a sit-down restaurant like I had figured, but more like a deli counter that you order from. And the menu is also a little bit strange. Callum notices my confusion and leans closer.

Lordy, my biscuits are burning! Callum smells divine. There’s a layer of soap on top of his woodsy aftershave today. I fight the urge to fan myself.

“Trust me,” he rumbles in that sexy Scottish accent. “Get yourself an order of curry and chips, plus a kebab.”

Still befuddled by how delicious he smells, I end up taking his advice.

A short time later, we’re both handed our takeout containers.

“Follow me,” Callum says. “There’s a nice little park not far from here where we can enjoy our meal outside.”

Once again, I follow, a bit like a baby duckling, and we find a nice empty bench in the park a few blocks away. It’s still a lot colder than I’m used to, and the park is not especially busy. Eating outside in this weather would not be my first choice, but when in Rome.

I open my container and stare at its contents, a little baffled. The meat on a skewer is evidently the kebab, but the big steaming pile in the middle appears to be french fries covered in something that smells like curry and looks a lot like brown gravy but with the thicker consistency of white gravy.

Callum’s already taken a forkful of his and chews it with a grin. When he swallows, he says, “Go on, give it a try. I think you’ll like it.”

When he points that sinfully sexy smile in my direction, I think I’ll do just about anything he asks of me.

“Like the divine Miz Dolly Parton, I’ve never met a potato I didn’t like. Here goes nothin’!”

Gingerly, I use my wooden fork-like utensil to skewer a large french fry, covered in curry. I pop it in my mouth and immediately moan.

“Oh my stars! That is amazing,” I manage to say once I finish chewing and swallow.

“Right?” Callum says with a smug grin.

Too stinkin’ cute.

Callum continues. “A good curry shop is a godsend when you’ve had a bit too much to drink the night before. A lot of them stay open quite late, into the wee hours, making good money off the patrons who stay at the pubs until closing. A belly full of greasy grub helps you sleep off the worst of the hangover.”

I take a bite of the slightly spicy and wonderfully juicy chicken on my kebab and nod approvingly. No hot sauce needed this time around.

“I’ll take your word for that, sugar. But let’s get back to our earlier conversation. You know about where I’m from, but you haven’t told me anything about yourself and where you hail from.”

He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “My parents live outside of Edinburgh in a quiet commuter town that’s an easy train ride into the city. I grew up there, but moved down here for uni. I knew I wanted to join the Met early on, so I decided to go to school close by so I could go straight into the four-year Detective Constable Entry Programme right after I got my degree.”

“The Met?” I ask.

“Metropolitan Police.”

I study him carefully. “Do you miss home? Scotland, I mean.”

He considers that for a moment. “I miss my old stomping grounds. I know Edinburgh like the back of my hand.” His lips quirk as his gaze roves over me in a way that has me tingling all over. “You’d probably love it. There are loads of old buildings there, and no skyscrapers are allowed to be built. It’s preserved the historical look and feel of the city more than most.”

“I’d absolutely love to visit someday,” I gush.

I stop just short of asking him to take me there.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Beauregard Jeremiah Montgomery, Mama’s voice chimes in my head.

I clear my throat. “Ahem. But London’s home to you now?”

He considers that, looking more serious than I expected.

“Aye, it was for a long time. My job tied me to the city in deep-rooted ways, but ever since I had to take early retirement, I’ve felt more disconnected, almost semi-alien here. Like the city doesn’t quite fit me right anymore.” He sighs. “I’ve considered moving back to Edinburgh to be closer to my family and in a place that’s always felt familiar and comfortable to me. I only really came to London to pursue the law enforcement career I wanted. Now, it just doesn’t hold the same draw it once did.”

I can tell this is a sensitive subject for him. “I’ve read a lot about Edinburgh, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that city is teeming with interesting ghosts. I’d love to visit someday,” I offer, keeping my voice light.