Page 5

5

Beatrice

I should have left town when I saw that symbol on that poor woman’s hand.

Instead, I went to the farmers market like I was just another local trying to live a normal life. And what happened? I met that nosy neighbor of mine. Okay, he’s hot, and I wouldn’t mind him picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder, and doing anything he wanted to my body.

And now, he knew.

Raven Ledger. The guy I had the hots for.

He didn’t know about the symbol—at least not yet—but he knew something was wrong. I saw it in the way his eyes tracked every person who got too close to me. The way his hand brushed his hip, as if he expected a weapon to be there. The way he stood too still, too ready.

Raven was a protector. You didn’t have to know his background to see it. It was in his posture. In the way Mandy never left his side unless he told her to, in the quiet alertness of a man who’d seen too much and lived through all of it.

He was watching me now.

Not in a creepy way.

In a dangerously observant way.

And the more he watched… the more he saw.

* * *

Later that evening, I was out back rinsing off Mike, who had rolled in something dead, naturally, when I heard the soft crunch of footsteps on sand.

I turned. Raven was leaning against my fence, arms crossed over his chest, and there was a lazy expression on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Are you always this good with evasive maneuvers?” he asked.

I blinked. “Is that a military term, or are you just nosy again?”

He cracked a grin. “Both.”

I turned back to the hose. “Is there a reason you’re here, or just checking on me?

“Thought you might want to walk the beach,” he said. “Clear your head. Or… for once in your life let someone watch your back.”

I hesitated, just for a breath.

Then I shut off the hose, gave Mike a pat, and walked toward the gate. Just so you know, I don’t need anyone to watch my back.

* * *

We didn’t say much at first.

The waves crashed softly, and the wind carried the scent of salt and someone's dinner. Raven walked beside me, not crowding, not pushing. Just there.

Steady.

Silent.

Present.

Waiting.

That was somehow more intimate than anything else.

“Was it bad?” he asked finally, his voice low.

“The fire?”

He nodded.

“Worse than it should’ve been,” I said. “The warehouse was locked from the outside.”

He didn’t answer. Just waited.

“There was a woman inside. Marked with something… deliberate. It was a black permanent marker.”

“Gang-related?”

“Not exactly.”

He didn’t press for more. But I felt the shift in him, like a thread pulled tight.

“Do you want help?” he asked.

I stopped walking and looked out over the water.

The truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted.

I’d spent years handling things alone. Telling someone—even someone like him—meant dragging them into something dark. Something dangerous. Something I’d barely made it out of myself.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

He studied me for a long moment. Then said, “You’re a badass firefighter, Beatrice. But you don’t have to do it alone. Let me in! I want to help you! I need to help you! I am going to help you! I don’t care if you agree or not.”

Something in my chest cracked.

But I didn’t let it show.

I started walking again, the sand shifting beneath my feet.

“Just so you know,” he said behind me, “if anyone’s coming for you, they’re going to have to go through me first. I have your back. I’ve had it since we met.”

I stopped.

Turned.

“You don’t even know what you’re signing up for.”

He smiled, all slow confidence and steel.

“Doesn’t matter.”

And for the first time since I started working for the government, I felt something strange curl through me.

Not fear.

Not dread.

But hope.

Hope that I can finally stop worrying about anyone finding me.

And that scared the hell out of me.

I’ll talk to you later. I need to shower. I’ve been scrubbing the floor. Thank you for your offer, but I’m fine.”

“Where are your brothers?”

“They are on vacation. They went to the Bahamas for two months. They are buying a home there for getaways.”

“Then I’ll stay here while you shower.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I want to. I’m staying with you since your brothers are gone.”

“Fine,” I said, walking into the bathroom. “Make yourself at home.” He may have barged in, but I wasn’t a rude person. If he wanted to stay all night, then I would be polite. I was relieved he was staying, I was scared to be alone.

I knew what I wanted: Raven to join me in the shower. Should I call him in here?

“Raven, can you come in here?” He looked surprised when he put his head around the door. “Would you like to take a shower with me?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. “Forget I said that.”

Just because I thought about it, doesn’t mean that I should ask him to join me. God, Beatrice, you barely know him.

Raven shook his head. “No way.” He gave a slow smile. “I don’t want to forget it.”

I stilled. “You don’t?”

He leaned closer. “No. I love your idea.”

Damn.

“You do?” He was undressed in record time.

* * *

Raven

As I stepped into the shower, her hands slid up my chest, her eyes dark with something deeper than wanting. “Yes, I do.”

Before I could say another word, she kissed me—slowly, deeply, and unhurried. When she pulled back, she whispered, “I want you to make love to me. I’ve wanted that since the moment I met you.” Her cheeks flushed. “I probably shouldn’t have said that either.”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering. “I like that you said it.”

“That means we’re thinking the same thing,” I said.