Page 29

CHAPTER 29

Tristan

Birdie expertly maneuvers into a parking spot. Unlike what I’ve expected, considering she hasn’t been behind a wheel in years, she’s a skilled driver, even with one good hand.

She catches me staring at her as she cuts the engine. “What?”

“What kind of car would you have bought?”

“I’m not following, Tristan.”

“You said your husband bought this car for you and you didn’t have a say in it. Which car would you have chosen?”

Pensively, she regards the beach ahead of us and follows the stark white lighthouse up with her gaze. “None. I’d have chosen a motorcycle.”

I can’t help the smile on my face. “You ride?”

“I used to be a biker’s old lady. Of course I do.”

Of course she does . I nod for Marcus to secure the perimeter. When Birdie and I are alone, I explain to her the security protocol for open spaces. Has it killed the silent tension between us and distracted me from picturing my hand squeezing gently around her throat while I’m devouring her lips? Debatable.

“The beach isn’t that crowded. Can we just get out of the car now?” she says.

“Not until Marcus radios it’s clear.”

She purses her lips and nods, but nothing about her seems agreeable. “So when I kiss you, you run for the hills like you’ve been bitten by a snake, but you can touch me without permission, and I’m not allowed to run?”

“I was…only making sure your hand wouldn’t compromise your driving for your safety and ours.”

“You were marking your territory,” she scoffs.

You knocked on hell’s door, Birdie, and that part of me you unlocked wants nothing more than to pin you against this car and claim you in front of the whole world to let it know you’re mine. You’re lucky I only held your hand. My shoulder lifts with a shrug.

She yanks my shades off her face. “I’m not a territory to be marked, Tristan.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m not Blake Abel.” I hold her fiery gaze, pleading for her to see the war she’s waged inside me. “I’m not here to imprison you, if anything I’ll protect the freedom you’ve fought so hard for. And as much as I want to make you understand that you belong to me, as much as it tears me apart I can never truly have you, I lock away every need to brand every inch of your body mine because acting on those feelings would be catastrophic. But when you push me like that, I can’t control it.”

She leans in, closer, and closer until my chest is heaving with flames she stokes in me with just her breath on my face. “Why? Why can you not control it?”

My body grows rigid as I fight every primal urge, every fantasy proximity bids alive. “Because to me, you’re not a territory, Birdie. You’re the whole world.”

She searches my face, brows knit, wrestling with my confession. The heat between us charged like lightning before a storm. “Tristan, I—”

“When you push, I’ll push back.” I’m not afraid to show her how utterly powerless I could be against her or the hold she has over me, but I won’t let her take advantage of it. “You’ll bend, and I’ll break.”

“What happens when you break?” she whispers.

The question hangs heavy in the confined space of the car, the weight of the impending answer threatening to shatter us both. It won’t be slanting my mouth over hers in a heated clash as I mold her body flush against mine. It won’t be drinking in her surprised gasp or swallowing every sweet whimper as I stake my claim. It won’t be my calloused hands roaming her soft curves to finally satiate the possessive hunger burning in my veins for her. It won’t be letting my desire for her pour out unchecked after holding back for so excruciatingly long.

It will be chaos, ruin and blood.

“Tell me, Tristan, what happens when you break?”

I suck in a ragged breath. “Hell’s doors open wide.”

Her lashes flutter, and she finally leans back, leaving me gulping for air.

“All clear. Ready to move,” Marcus’s voice streams in my earpiece, saving us.

“The beach is clear, but we’ll wait for Brandon to—”

She unlocks the car and climbs out, jamming the shades onto her face.

“Hey!” I scramble out and block her way. “You don’t do that. Ever.” The scent of the ocean fills my nostrils as they flare. The roar of the waves clashes with the wind, echoing my heartbeat.

She plays with a strand of her hair, an impish smile on her lips. “Sorry, daddy. I promise next time I’ll be a good girl.”

Hijo de puta .

Her head tilts as she gives me a onceover glance, and then her smile grows into a grin. “Oh, he blushes.”

“No, I don’t. I’m…angry. You’re gonna give me an aneurysm.”

“If you say so, daddy.”

My dick pulses in my pants. “Walk. Just walk.”

With a giggle, she spins and starts down the walkway. “Shall we go to the lighthouse we’re all so excited to see?” she taunts, when Marcus meets us at the start of the beach trail, as if nothing happened. Hell is about to break loose in me, and she treats it like nothing; she’s giving me a taste of my own medicine, and it stings.

Strolling down the beach, she’s on her phone, and we’re behind her. Before the man in me indulges in the sight of her curves, I drag my stare away and decide to pour all my focus on my job. I must treat Birdie as nothing more than a client before I go crazy and jeopardize both our careers, reputations and even lives.

I sweep the place with my gaze. There are a few families sitting on the sand, children are playing, and three separate seniors are enjoying the view. None of them is a possible threat. The next few minutes on the job will be easy if I ignore Marcus’s suspicious side eye and my client’s gorgeous ass.

“Gia is still not picking up,” Birdie says. She’s been trying to reach her all day and all the way to Edgartown. Her assistant has the lighthouse keeper’s number, who will let us inside without filling out the necessary forms to visit off-season.

“Should we be worried?” Marcus asks.

“It’s not like her to miss work and not return my calls, but we kind of had a fight last night…and the day before. I guess she doesn’t want to put up with my crazy today.” She frowns and lowers her eyes back on the phone. “Anyway, she keeps all numbers and addresses in a shared document I can access,” her fingers work fast on the screen, “here. I found his number.”

She makes the call, and Spencer is gonna let us in.

I exchange a glance with Marcus before I ask her, “You’re on a first name basis with the lighthouse keeper?”

“I guess I am. I come here a lot.” She continues down the trail.

“We’re going to need that list of numbers and addresses, ma’am,” Marcus says, reading my mind.

Her hair whips over her face as she glances at him over her shoulder. “Why?”

“We were under the impression that your public interactions were limited and mostly done through your assistant and former manager. Apparently, that’s not the case.” Marcus exchanges another glance with me. “If you’re friendly with a man like the lighthouse keeper, I bet you are with others, too, and one of them might have mistaken your kindness for something else…”

“Your stalker could be one of those people on the list, Birdie,” I finish.