Page 8

Orion

Have I mentioned how cute Briar is? She’s the kind of cute that sneaks up on you and stays lodged in your mind, like a catchy tune you can't stop humming. She has this effortless way of making you smile—her whole vibe is like sunshine wrapped in a messy bow, and before you know it, your heart is pounding like you've just run a marathon. I try to play it cool, but there's no denying the effect she has on me.

She tilts her head, eyes bright with curiosity as she leans against the counter, cradling her coffee mug like it’s the most natural thing in the world to stand here in my kitchen. “What’s on the agenda today?”

I shrug, trying to keep it casual, even though the thought of spending more time with her has me internally buzzing. I take a slow sip of my coffee, using it as an excuse to gather my thoughts. "Well, I need to get a bit of work done," I say, though honestly, I doubt I'll be able to focus much with her around. "But I thought maybe later we could take a stroll along the beach. That is, if the bird allows it."

I throw in the last part with a smirk, and her face lights up like I knew it would.

“Jeb’s pretty easy-going,” she says with a grin, taking a sip of her coffee. "He’ll let us out of the house, but only if we promise him a starring role in the rest of our day.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Sounds like we’re at the mercy of a diva.”

She laughs softly, and the sound is like a balm to my senses, soothing and addictive all at once. I could listen to that laugh on repeat and never get tired of it.

Briar sets her mug down and taps her fingers lightly on the counter. “I’d love to go to the beach. I mean, I haven’t been in... forever. I could use some sun, sea air, and maybe a little bit of magic.” She throws me a teasing glance, referencing the little magic trick I’d done the night before.

“Magic, huh?” I arch an eyebrow, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed. "I think I can manage that." I give her a slow, playful grin, and her cheeks flush just slightly.

She swats the air between us like she’s trying to bat away the flirtation, but the glint in her eyes tells me she’s enjoying it. "Well, don’t expect me to pull a rabbit out of a hat. I can barely get through a deck of cards without dropping half of them on the floor."

“I’ve got the magic tricks covered," I say smoothly, “You just bring the charm.”

Her eyes roll, but there's a smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, please, like I’m any match for Mr. Magic over here.”

I laugh, and it’s impossible not to feel lighter around her. “Trust me, Briar, you’re the real magic in this equation.”

What the fuck is wrong with me? I never flirt. Never like this. And never with a client.

Her smile falters for a split second, something soft and real flashing in her eyes before she quickly hides it behind her usual playful banter. "Careful, Orion," she says, mock-serious, “You might actually start sounding like a romantic.”

“I’ve been known to have my moments,” I say, giving her a wink, watching as her cheeks turn a shade pinker. And just like that, I know I’m in deeper than I ever intended to be.

And it’s at this moment I know I should call Dean and get her reassigned. I shouldn’t get in any deeper than I already am.

I’m attracted to her. And that’s dangerous as fuck.

However, I can’t stay away. The thought of any other man protecting her makes me want to throw something heavy into the ocean. The thought of her not being around makes me want to snap a tree trunk in two. Even the bird is growing on me, however, I’d never admit that to her.

So, that’s why I have zero plans of calling Dean. I want to be the only man protecting Briar. No one else.

One thing I know for sure is that it’s going to suck when this job ends. Hard. The thought of Briar returning to her own place, no longer sharing my space, no longer filling the quiet with her laugh, is already gnawing at me. She’s embedded herself in my system. In two short fucking days the woman has already left a lasting impression.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t fucked a woman in ages. Maybe it’s because I’ve never met a woman like Briar before. But there’s something going on deep in my chest that’s making me want to stake a claim here.

It makes me understand why Jason’s not willing to let her go either. But let's be real—Jason’s an asshole. A possessive one at that. Still, even assholes can have the sense to recognize what they’ll be losing. He just doesn’t deserve her.

I watch her as she leans back in her beach chair, toes buried in the sand, the salty ocean breeze whipping strands of her hair around her face. There’s something about her here, under the sun, that makes everything feel more vivid. Like the world is brighter just because she’s in it.

“Tell me,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence that’s settled between us. “How did you break things off with Jason?”

She looks over at me, her expression shifting from relaxed to a little guarded. I know it’s a sensitive subject, but I need more details, for the case, yes, but also because I want to understand more of what she’s been through.

She sighs softly, glancing out at the horizon where the waves crash against the shore in a rhythmic, calming pattern. “It wasn’t easy,” she starts, her voice quieter now. “I think part of me didn’t want to believe I had to. I kept hoping he'd change, that things would go back to how they were at the beginning.”

I nod, staying quiet so she’ll keep going. I can tell this is a wound she’s hesitant to reopen, but there’s strength in her voice that wasn’t there before. She’s not the same woman who let Jason control her life.

“He became... different,” she continues, her brow furrowing as she pulls her knees up to her chest. “At first, it was subtle, you know? Little comments here and there. A few controlling tendencies I brushed off. But then it escalated. He started isolating me from my friends, demanding to know where I was at all times.” Her hands clench the armrests of her chair, like she’s holding onto something invisible, something heavier than the beach chair beneath her.

I clench my jaw, feeling a rush of anger I didn’t expect to feel. I’d seen this kind of behavior before, with other cases, but hearing it from her—it hits differently.

“He had this way of making me feel like it was my fault,” she admits, shaking her head slightly, as if she’s still trying to shake off the hold Jason had on her. “Like I was the one doing something wrong, like I was overreacting or imagining things.”

I take a breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “And when you finally ended it?”

“It was messy,” she says, hugging her legs tighter. “He didn’t take it well. There were a lot of angry phone calls, text messages, showing up unannounced. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She pauses, biting her bottom lip as she looks down at the sand. “I was scared, Orion. Scared he’d never stop.”

I reach over, gently placing my hand on hers. She looks up, surprised by the contact, but doesn’t pull away. Her skin feels warm under mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. The only sound between us is the ocean’s steady, relentless rhythm.

“I won’t let him hurt you again,” I say, my voice low but firm. There’s more to those words than just a professional promise.

She offers me a small, grateful smile, though there’s still a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I know. I believe you.”

For a moment, I forget about the case, the job, and everything else. All I can think about is how much I want to protect her—not just from Jason, but from everything that’s ever hurt her. It’s a dangerous feeling, but one I can’t shake.

I lean closer, an overwhelming need building inside me, pulling me toward her like a force I can’t control. Her eyes lock with mine, wide and searching, filled with a mixture of vulnerability and something else. It’s something that makes my pulse race even faster. Maybe this isn’t the best moment, not right after she’s just opened up about Jason and all the crap she went through. But damn it, I can't stop myself.

My heart pounds in my chest, drowning out every rational thought. The ocean breeze tangles her hair, framing her face like a painting that’s too perfect to be real. For a split second, I hesitate and think maybe I should give her space, give her time. But then my gaze falls to her lips, soft and slightly parted, and that tiny flicker of doubt disappears.

Three seconds. That's all I give myself to contemplate before thinking, fuck this shit . My body moves on instinct, and I close the distance between us, leaning in until her warmth is right there, just inches away.

Then I capture her lips with mine.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like I’m testing the waters, waiting to see if she’ll pull away. But she doesn’t. Her breath hitches, and she responds, her lips melting against mine with a heat that catches me completely off guard.

I feel her hands, tentative at first, slide up to grip the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. It’s like something snaps between us—this electric charge that’s been building for days finally erupting, and I deepen the kiss, my hand sliding up to cradle the back of her neck.

Her taste is intoxicating, a mix of sweetness and something entirely her, and I can’t get enough. Every brush of her lips against mine makes me want more, need more. The world fades away—the sound of the waves, the seagulls, the soft rustle of the wind in the palm trees—it all disappears, leaving just us in this moment.

I feel her breath catch again as the kiss intensifies, her body pressing into mine like she’s anchoring herself to me, and I tighten my grip on her waist, pulling her into my lap, her legs straddling me. I can feel the rapid thrum of her heart against my chest, matching the wild rhythm of my own.

When we finally break apart, both of us breathless, I keep my forehead resting against hers, not wanting to move, not wanting to lose this moment. Her eyes flutter open, and I catch the dazed look in them, her lips still slightly parted as if she’s just as shocked as I am by what just happened.

Neither of us says anything for a long beat, the tension still thick in the air. Her fingers are still fisted in my shirt, and I’m not ready to let her go.