“What happened to her?” Fox barked, bringing everything back to regular speed. The relief of seeing Fox practically bowled her over, and she started to call out a greeting, until she realized the fisherman’s gravitational-pull eyes were honing in on Sergei, setting off a tectonic shift of plates in his cheeks. On top of everything else, he had to have the most dangerous job in the United States, the knowledge of fear and nature and consequences in his sea-blue eyes. God, if you’re listening? But instead he looked like a troublemaker angel that got booted out of heaven, all tall and well-built and resilient and capable-looking. With that pretty-boy face, he really should have been soft. Without turning around, she knew every straight woman had her face pressed up against the windows of the bus, watching the maestro of feminine wetness cross the road, his dark blond hair blowing around in the wind, the lower half of his face covered in unruly, unshaped stubble, darker than the hair on his head. Perhaps because his identity had been whittled down to words on a screen, she’d forgotten that he commanded attention like a grand finale of fireworks in the night sky. Probably because she’d communicated with this man every day for six-no, nearly seven-months now, but never heard his voice. Her mind made a scratchy humming sound, like the one a record makes in between songs. Hannah tore her wistful eyes off the man she’d been crushing on for two years, and saw Fox crossing the parking lot in their direction, his striking face a mask of alarm. Read an exclusive excerpt of Hook, Line, and Sinker below!!

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