Page 10

Orion

Here’s the deal. Employees at zoos don’t normally have a bodyguard following closely behind them. And for some reason, the more I try to blend in, the more I stand out.

However, I don’t give a flying fuck if people notice me watching Briar. Maybe word will get back to her prick of an ex, and he’ll finally get the hint.

Yet, life isn’t that simple.

I stand near the perimeter of the aviary, arms crossed over my chest, scanning the area with practiced focus. Exotic birds flit overhead, their colors a blur of blues, greens, and yellows. Most people would find the spectacle captivating, but I’m only half paying attention. My priority is Briar.

She’s a few yards away, talking with her boss—Marcie, if I recall correctly. The woman looks no-nonsense, dressed in khaki shorts and a crisp polo shirt with the zoo’s logo. She’s listening intently as Briar explains the situation: her mother hiring me as a bodyguard because her ex-boyfriend’s become a problem. The second Briar mentions an “ex giving her trouble,” Marcie’s expression hardens.

I shift my stance, watching them. Briar’s posture is tense—shoulders slightly hunched, gaze flicking my way every so often. I can see the worry etched in her eyes even from here. She wants this job, loves it, but she also knows she has to face the reality that danger might follow her anywhere. My instincts prick at the sight of her anxiety. I want to walk over, put a hand on her shoulder, let her know she’s not dealing with this alone. But I hold back. She needs to handle this conversation on her own.

Marcie says something I can’t quite make out. Briar nods, a flash of disappointment crossing her face. A moment later, Marcie reaches out and gives Briar’s arm a quick squeeze. I see Briar’s lips move, forming what looks like a “thank you.” Then Marcie glances at me, her gaze sliding over my broad frame, weighing me up. I give her a small nod in acknowledgment. She returns it curtly, then heads off in the opposite direction, leaving Briar standing alone, shoulders visibly sagging.

I take a step toward her, letting my boots hit the ground with enough sound so I won’t spook her. When she sees me approaching, she attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“How’d it go?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

She tucks a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear and looks around, as if she’s suddenly self-conscious. “Marcie said… well, she said I should probably take some time off work until everything’s settled. With Jason, I mean.”

I nod slowly, taking in the disappointment flickering across her features. She loves this place—anyone can see it. “That make sense to you?”

She shrugs, a shallow movement. “I guess. I mean, I hate to admit it, but maybe I do need some time away. Just… until this mess gets sorted out.”

My protective instincts flare up. I want to tell her that yes, she absolutely needs time to stay safe, but I know her pride might bristle if I phrase it wrong. “It’s not forever,” I say gently. “You’ll come back once things are under control.”

She lifts her gaze to mine, and for a second, that spark of determination I’ve come to admire shines through. “Yeah. I will.” Then her expression softens. “But it still sucks.”

I reach out, brushing her elbow lightly with my fingertips. It’s a small gesture, meant to steady her. “It’s gonna be okay,” I say, trying to keep my tone level, reassuring. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Let’s go pack up your stuff.”

She hesitates, glancing around the aviary as if memorizing every detail before she leaves. I wait, giving her the moment she needs. Finally, she releases a resigned sigh, nods, and leads the way toward the staff lockers.

It doesn’t take long for her to gather her belongings—just a backpack and a small duffel. I stay a half-step behind, scanning for anything—or anyone—suspicious. My senses are on high alert, but the zoo remains a happy, chaotic swirl of tourists and staff, oblivious to the turmoil in Briar’s life. Good. I want it that way.

We don’t speak much as we head out to the parking lot. I help her into my SUV and lock her door.

The ride back to my place is quiet. Briar stares out the passenger window, lost in thought, while I keep my eyes on the road, one hand draped over the steering wheel. Part of me wants to fill the silence, ask if she’s all right, if she wants to talk. But I can tell she’s processing, and sometimes that requires stillness.

When we arrive, I help her out of the car, her bag slung over my shoulder. She’s already fumbling for the door before I catch up, and I spot the tension in her shoulders again.

I open the door, and make a quick sweep of the place to ensure everything’s the same as we left it.

However, I suspect Jeb would let us know if anyone had been in here. Briar moves to his cage, checking on him as I head into the kitchen.

“You hungry?” I ask her. “I can whip something up.” I think about making her a steak, or a pasta salad, however I remember the food she likes instead.

“No, I’m just going to sulk on the couch.”

I smile softly as I enter the living room through the archway. “It’s not forever, Briar. We’ll be able to deal with Jason once we know exactly what he wants.”

Briar plucks at a pillow in her lap. “Well, he seems like what he wants is me.”

I run a finger over my bottom lip, my mind briefly thinking about how I want the exact same thing, and then I push back my shoulders. “Yes and no.”

She faces me, her eyes wide. “What does that mean?”

I sit down next to her. “I’m thinking Jason might want your parents’ money. Maybe he has some gambling debt. Dean’s running a few searches on Jason. We’ll know more in a few days.”

Briar’s face appears confused, and then she blinks at me. “My parents’ money? Wait, now that you mention that he was always talking about a man, I forget his name, but he was always checking in with him. Saying they needed the deal to go through. I always thought it had to do with work, but one time he mentioned that he would talk to the guy after he got out of work. So, it made me think this man and him didn’t work together. I don’t know.”

“Hey, this is very helpful. Do you remember anything else?”

She shrugs. “No. I just know toward the end of our relationship he was starting to unravel. Always talking on the phone, always stressed.”

I stare at Briar for a long moment as I try to process what she’s saying. It pisses me off she was in a relationship with this asshole. “Was this man somebody he knew from the races?”

She shrugs again, and I briefly stare a little too long when her shirt slips off her slender shoulder. “I don’t know. I could call him and ask. Maybe do a little recon mission.”

My heart nearly explodes in my chest from anxiety at the thought of Briar ever speaking to that asshole again. “No,” I clip out. “You’ll never speak to him ever again.” Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Okay,” she whispers.

I want to comfort her in some small way, but I know if I touch her right now I’ll be tempted to kiss her again, and that was a huge mistake. I can’t let myself go there again. “You hungry?” I ask her, my voice gruff and threadbare.

She shakes her head. “Not really.”

“I’ll make you some soup.”

She nods. “Orion,” she says. “Thank you.” She blinks up at me, her green eyes the same shade as the grass on a warm, sunny day.

Something about the way she says it makes my chest feel warm. I stand from the couch, deciding it’s better not to linger on that feeling too long. “You’re welcome.”

She offers me another soft smile, and for the briefest moment, my pulse kicks up a notch. Then I clear my throat and step aside, giving her space to breathe.

I’m her bodyguard, after all. Protecting her is my job. But the longer I’m around her, the more it feels like something else—like a promise I’m determined to keep, no matter what.

I stir the pot of soup with one hand, the steam rising up and enveloping me in a comforting warmth. The kitchen is quiet except for the gentle bubbling of broth. I glanced over at Briar not too long ago—she was curled up on the couch in the living room, flipping channels with Jeb perched on the backrest. A few minutes later, I heard the soft sound of her breathing deepen, and I figured she was drifting off.

My phone vibrates on the counter, drawing my attention, but I decide to let it wait. I give the soup another swirl, taste-testing with a spoon, and nod in satisfaction. I don’t cook often, but for her, I’m willing to make the effort.

Suddenly, there’s a muffled cry from the living room. My heart lurches. I turn off the burner and rush toward the sound. The moment I round the corner, I see Briar thrashing on the couch, her face contorted in fear.

“Briar?” I call softly at first, stepping closer. “Briar, wake up.”

She doesn’t respond. She lets out another whimper, and I can feel my protective instincts flare. Kneeling beside her, I place a gentle hand on her shoulder and give her a soft shake. Her breathing is ragged, shallow.

“Briar,” I say, louder now, and she jolts, eyes snapping open. She looks at me in wild confusion, like she doesn’t quite recognize where she is or who I am. Her chest heaves as she pulls in frantic gulps of air.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, sinking onto the cushion beside her. I carefully slide my arms around her, gathering her against my chest. She doesn’t resist—if anything, she clings to me, trembling like a leaf in a storm. “It was just a bad dream,” I soothe, brushing a strand of hair away from her damp forehead.

She closes her eyes, letting out a shuddering breath. “I… I’m sorry,” she manages.

“Another dream about Jason?” I ask, though it’s more an affirmation than a question. I already know the answer.

She swallows hard and nods, pressing her forehead against my collarbone. “Yes,” she whispers, voice cracking on the single syllable.

My jaw tenses. I can feel anger prickling at the edges, not at her, but at Jason—for haunting her even now, for lingering in the corners of her mind where he has no right to be. I need to find out what this bastard wants so we can go back to normal. At least that’s the plan, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’m starting to wonder if I actually want “normal.” Because having Briar here, in my space, in my arms, feels… right in a way I can’t easily explain.

I tighten my hold on her, letting her rest against me. “We’ll figure this out,” I say, my voice dipping low, meant only for her. “We’ll find out what he wants, and we’ll make him back off for good.”

She nods against my chest, and I catch her scent—a mix of something floral with a hint of citrus. It’s unexpectedly intoxicating. Her body trembles slightly, and I wonder if she’s still caught in the grips of that nightmare, or if it’s something else entirely.

“Thank you,” she breathes, and then her eyes flutter open, searching mine. There’s a vulnerable edge there, a plea to be believed, to be protected.

Without thinking, I bring a hand up to cradle her cheek. My thumb brushes against her soft skin, and electricity crackles down my spine. We’re close now—so close that I can see the flecks of gold in her irises, the faint flush creeping up her neck.

She leans into my touch, and my heart kicks into high gear. God, I want to kiss her. I did once, but that felt like it was in the heat of a moment. Now, it’s just us, the two of us, breathing in sync, tethered by a tension that’s as charged as lightning in a summer sky.

I lower my head a fraction, my eyes locked on hers, silently asking permission. Her lips part slightly, and I feel her breath mingle with mine—warm, inviting. Her grip on my shirt tightens, her fingertips digging into the fabric like she can’t bear to let go.

An urge surges inside me, hungry and insistent. I brush my mouth over hers, tentative, testing. The softest contact, yet it’s like a flame igniting. She exhales a shaky sigh against my lips, and it’s all the encouragement I need. My hand slides to the small of her back, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us.

The kiss deepens, slow and purposeful, a whispered promise between us. Her lips tremble for a heartbeat, then part in response, and my pulse roars in my ears. I taste her uncertainty, her relief, and beneath it all, a spark of want that matches my own.

For a few seconds, it’s only that—her mouth on mine, the warmth of our bodies pressed together, the lingering fear from her nightmare melting under the heat of something far stronger.

Eventually, I force myself to pull back, just enough to see her face. Her eyes remain closed for a moment, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, her breathing uneven. When she looks up, there’s a question in her gaze, one I’m probably wearing in my own expression.

I press my forehead to hers, fighting the urge to claim her lips again. “You okay?” I whisper, my voice laced with all the desire and concern coursing through me.

She nods, her breath fanning my cheek. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice unsteady. “Better now.”

I wrap my arms around her once more, holding her tight as if I can shield her from the nightmares, from Jason, from everything. And for a moment, it feels like maybe I can. Because right now, in this moment, nothing and no one else exists but us.