Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
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?”