AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The world is still beautiful.
Rowan
Briar Rosanera will be the end of me. I spend the entire drive gripping the wheel like a lifeline, listening to her directions, and cursing my weakness. She’s right. About everything. I’m afraid I’ll turn out just like my parents. I’m afraid I’ll become the kind of man my father was, the kind of man who uses shows of strength—like breaking glasses and having people by the throat—to inspire respect. If I ever needed proof that I have his blood in my veins, it came earlier—with Briar’s pulse against my palm.
I barely know what happened.
Something inside me just snapped.
The second Briar showed up in my meeting room wearing whatever it is she’s wearing, dread overwhelmed me. Before she appeared, the meeting was going piss poorly. Granger was being his usual irritation. Many of my other captains were agreeing with his points. And then she walked in, and lit up, and kissed my cheek in front of everyone, as though I had accepted her insane proposition that we pretend to be romantically affiliated last night.
All I did last night was give up on trying to get her to go away because I was too tired to deal with it.
If Granger decides to use this idea that I care about anyone enough to be involved with them against me…
If he goes after Briar because of me…
A hard swallow sticks in my esophagus as I force myself to take a tight breath.
The last thing I need right now is for the fraying edges of my family to have more ammunition. The last thing I need right now is a distraction in a fluttery blue dress.
I shouldn’t be humoring any of this—I don’t have the time; obviously I don’t have the patience—but one thing isn’t letting my brain leave Briar Rosanera alone.
The way her family treats her.
How does a frivolous woman like her garner care, respect, and obedience from her subordinates while existing as carefree as she comes off? She’s inane.
Lethal.
Unafraid.
Confident.
She’s so unconcerned that any harm might come to her she’s slipped out of her shoes, propped her feet on my dash, and let her dress bunch down at her thighs in a puddle of lace.
Long, toned legs on full display.
She’s a hazard to safe driving.
“Turn right,” she says, curling a lock of dark hair around her finger and crossing her ankles.
Cursing myself for staring, I obey and turn onto a bustling city street. Unlit neon signs, bars, convenience stores, and second-hand boutiques fill my vision. Inexplicably, a stretch of garden scattered with benches rests in the center of the worn building façades.
Kicking her legs off the dash and pulling her sneakers back on, she says, “Park anywhere,” then she stretches back between our seats to reach her picnic basket.
My eye catches on a parking spot a moment after I rip my attention off the curve of her back. Muttering swears, I slide into the available space near the center garden strip, kill the engine, and glare as she settles back into her seat with her basket on her lap.
A feline glint overwhelms her ice blue eyes after a couple moments. “You’re welcome to admire me.”
My eyes narrow.
“I mean it. I don’t mind.”
“I do.”
She lifts her delicate fingers to her lips. “Oh, pet, it’s too soon for that phrase. I haven’t even picked out my wedding dress yet. It’s so cute that you’re already practicing, though.”
When she opens her door, I debate driving off and leaving her here.
