Page 13 of Beckett (Warrior Security #2)

I transferred Chaos carefully, making sure she had a good grip before letting go. The kitten tensed, ready to launch into another hissing fit. Audra stayed perfectly still, not trying to pet him, just holding him steady against her chest.

“Hey, little warrior,” she murmured. “I know. Everything’s scary and nothing makes sense and you just want to fight the whole world. I get it.”

Something in her voice—that keen understanding—made Chaos pause. He sniffed her shirt suspiciously.

“But maybe,” she continued, “just maybe, not everyone’s out to hurt you. Maybe some people just want to help, even if you’re too scared to let them.”

She wasn’t talking to the kitten anymore. Not really.

Chaos, in that miraculous way of animals, seemed to understand. He relaxed incrementally, still wary but no longer actively hostile. When Audra slowly stroked his head, he allowed it.

“Look at that,” I said softly. “He likes you.”

“He tolerates me.” But she was smiling, a real smile that transformed her whole face. “That’s progress, right?”

“With Chaos? That’s a miracle.”

Jet, apparently jealous of the attention, nudged my hand with his wet nose. I scratched behind his ears absently, watching Audra with the kitten. Something had shifted in the last few minutes. The stories about Todd had cracked open a door she’d been holding desperately shut.

She was still running. Still scared. Still carrying secrets that were eating her alive. But for right now, in this moment, she was just a woman holding a kitten and remembering how to smile.

And then the moment was gone.

“I should probably—” She started to hand Chaos back, already rebuilding those walls.

That was when it happened. Moving to pass the kitten between us, she stepped on Jet’s rope toy, throwing her off-balance. I reached out instinctively, catching her elbow, steadying her before she could fall.

Time stopped.

We were close. Close enough that I could see the gold flecks in her eyes catch the afternoon sun. Close enough to feel her pulse hammering under my fingers where they wrapped around her arm. Close enough that her breath ghosted across my jaw.

Chaos meowed indignantly, trapped between us, but neither of us moved.

Her lips parted slightly. My gaze dropped to them without permission, cataloging their shape, the way the bottom one was slightly fuller than the top. When I looked back up, her eyes had darkened, pupils dilated with something that wasn’t fear.

Chemistry. Attraction. Whatever you wanted to call the electricity arcing between us, making the air feel charged and thick. I hadn’t felt anything like it in years. Hadn’t wanted to feel it because feeling meant caring, and caring meant eventually failing someone who mattered.

But I felt it now. Felt it in the way my hand tightened slightly on her arm. In the way she swayed closer instead of pulling back. In the way my body recognized hers on some primitive level that bypassed all my carefully constructed defenses.

“Beckett.” My name on her lips sounded like a question and a warning all at once.

Chaos chose that moment to scale her shirt like a tree, tiny claws digging in as he made a determined assault on her shoulder. She gasped, trying to contain him, while Jet—apparently feeling left out—jumped up to investigate, his paws landing squarely on my hip and shoving me sideways.

“Down, boy,” I commanded, catching my balance.

Audra laughed—surprised and genuine—stepping back as she tried to peel Chaos off her collar.

“Thanks,” she said, not quite meeting my eyes. “For catching me.”

“Anytime.”

The word came out rougher than intended, carrying promises I had no business making. Her stomach chose that moment to growl. Loud enough that Jet’s ears perked up, head tilting in curiosity.

Heat flooded her face. “Sorry. Haven’t had anything since lunch. I should probably?—”

“When’s the last time you ate a real meal?” The question came out sharper than I meant it to. “I mean, besides the sandwich I brought you?”

She lifted her chin, defensive. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

The simple answer seemed to throw her. She blinked, readjusting her grip on Chaos, who was starting to squirm.

“Look,” I said, trying for casual and probably missing by miles, “it’s almost five. The animals are settled for the evening. Why don’t we grab dinner? There’s a diner in town that does decent burgers.”

Something flashed across her face—longing, maybe—before the walls slammed back down.

Maybe she thought I was hitting on her. I wasn’t. But…

“We could go Dutch,” I offered. “Each pay our own way. Wouldn’t be a date or anything. Just two people who happen to be hungry at the same time.”

Something flickered in her eyes—hurt? embarrassment?—before she shuttered it away.

“No, I have to get going. I have a bunch of stuff to do, so tonight isn’t good.” She handed Chaos back, careful not to let our fingers touch.

The tactical error hit me immediately. Dutch .

Of course. The way her face had shifted—that flash of something in her eyes before she’d shuttered it away.

Whatever was going on with her, offering to split the bill had been the wrong move.

Maybe she was just being proud. Maybe it was something else. But I’d clearly hit a nerve.

“Audra, wait—” I tried to backtrack. I needed to offer to pay.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was already backing away, that prey animal flight response kicking in. “Bright and early. Lots of work to do.”

“The diner?—”

“Maybe another time.” The smile she gave me was bright and false and hurt to look at. “When I don’t have so many…errands.”

She practically ran for her car, leaving me standing there with a squirming kitten and a sinking feeling that I’d just made everything worse.

“Smooth move,” I told Chaos, who bit my thumb in response. “Really showed off those excellent people skills.”

We both knew I was talking about myself and not the kitten.

Jet whined, pressing against my leg in solidarity. Or maybe he was just disappointed Audra was leaving.

I couldn’t help but feel the same.