Page 27 of Bewitched By the Siren (The Bewitching Hour #1)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Brendan
I made an excuse to leave after we ate, and as I stride into my rental house, I’m already pulling my phone from my pocket. I need to call Julius.
Ever since Hali told me she saw someone taking pictures of her on the beach, I’ve been burdened by a heavy pit of suspicion in my stomach that my boss sent him here. That Julius has become impatient despite my assurances that I’d get him something, and he sent in someone else to get the job done.
Someone who won’t take Hali’s wants and needs into consideration. Who’ll bulldoze right over her to do his job and please the boss.
“Brendan,” he says when he answers, “what’s happened? Why are you calling? I didn’t expect anything from you until tomorrow night.”
“Someone was following Hali and taking pictures of her earlier,” I say. If he can skip the traditional greeting, so can I. “Did you send someone else down here?”
“No, I didn’t,” he says, sounding almost offended. “I told you I’d give you until tomorrow night, and I’m a man of my word. You know that.”
He’s right. I do know that.
“Maybe it was a reporter,” he offers before I can respond.
“Maybe,” I say, but I don’t really buy it.
It doesn’t feel right. Why would a reporter be following Hali? She’s not famous––yet––and no one in the business knows I’m here scouting her. Unless…
Unless the paparazzi saw us at Natasha’s house and got curious. Shit.
I can’t tell Julius about that, though. I swore Natasha to secrecy, because if Julius knew Hali cut a recording, he’d insist on a copy. And if Natasha were to explain I had her delete the master file, I’d be headed for the unemployment line in a blink of an eye.
“You’re probably right,” I say. “Sorry to bother you, sir.”
“I want that recording the minute you get it, Brendan.”
“Yes, sir.”
A beeping sound comes from my phone’s speaker, and the line goes dead. I shove the device back into my pocket as I consider my theory. There’s a decent chance I’m right, that a photographer saw us coming and going from Natasha’s and wanted to know who Hali is.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I can’t repress the smile that tugs at my lips. There’s only one person who it could be. My blood hums in my veins at the thought of her in my bed again.
But when I pull open the door, my bubble of anticipation pops. Hali’s smile is shaky, her body language hunched and defensive.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately, stepping aside and waving her in.
“Nothing’s happened,” she says quickly, and when I close the door and open my arms to her, she steps into my embrace and hugs me back. “I just didn’t…want to be alone tonight.”
“Come on,” I say, pulling her into the living room. “We can watch a movie if you want.”
“That sounds nice,” she murmurs as I pull her down onto the couch next to me.
I hand her the remote so she can pick a movie to stream, and as she shuffles through the choices, I pull a blanket off the back of the couch and cover us with it.
I curl my arm around her shoulder and she leans into me, snuggling close as she starts a popular romantic comedy that came out a few years ago.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting, but that guy on the beach really got to me. I kept imagining people peeping through my windows, and I couldn’t relax.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you came,” I say quietly. “Did you get your mom to bed okay? I should’ve stayed to help you.”
I feel her head shake against my shoulder. “I’ve been putting her to bed long before you got here. I’m good at it. But…why did you leave so fast? It seemed like you had something on your mind.”
“I needed to call my boss. I wanted to make sure he didn’t send someone else because I’m failing the assignment,” I say.
She lifts her head to meet my eyes. “And did he?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. “My best guess is that the paparazzi got wind of us going to Natasha’s and got curious as to who we are. Who you are.”
She looks at me for a few more beats before nodding and laying her head back against my shoulder, saying, “That makes sense.”
We fall silent after that, watching the movie and enjoying just being together. A sense of comfort washes over me, and visions of Hali and I doing this very thing again and again flashes through my mind. My mouth curls upward, and I tighten my arm around her a bit.
Hali’s weight against me grows heavier, and when I look down at her, her eyes are closed.
I press a light kiss against her hair and watch the movie for a while longer, giving her a chance to fall deeper into sleep before I shut off the T.V.
Moving carefully, I climb to my feet while pulling her up into my arms. I carry her to my bedroom and tuck her into bed before climbing in on the other side.
I watch her sleep for a while––in a totally non-creepy way––and fuck, she’s beautiful. Full of life and light, even at rest. Compassionate and generous. God, I like her so much.
But she doesn’t want the fame and fortune my agency could offer her, so why am I still here, trying to force her to reconsider? It doesn’t feel right, yet the thought of leaving makes pain bloom in my chest.
Anyone else, and I’d just use my powers of persuasion to convince them.
I’d make the deal happen, just like Julius wants.
But knowing Hali and her situation, the thought of doing something like that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
I can encourage her, sure, but using the negotiation tactics I’ve honed during my career against her? I just can’t.
And lying here next to her, watching her sleep, the odds of me actually betraying her by getting the recording Julius has demanded are dropping by the second. There’s no way in hell I can do that to her. If I can’t get her permission, well, it is what it is.
How will Julius react to that? Will I be fired?
Will it be worth it?
Hali rolls toward me in her sleep, resting her head on my chest with a content sigh. I wrap an arm around her, holding her close, and my worries drift away.
Everything about this moment feels right. Hali feels right.
And I don’t think I’ve ever felt this content. Happy.
I’ve never felt so at peace. I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s time to leave. But I don’t have a choice, do I?