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From what I can see through the trees, Birdie’s house looks untouched. The light is on in her office, which could mean nothing, or she’s at work hunting another monster. From what Knot told us during our briefing, she was sent home to get some sleep. The temptation is there to call and order Birdie to bed, but I’m afraid of what might be said if I do.
I get confirmation of Birdie’s activities an hour later when her office darkens, and her bedroom light comes on soon after. She was working. Rage sours my stomach when I imagine the depraved conversation between her and some sick asshole.
A steady diet of shit is bound to warp the mind. Kind of like an abusive father would. Maybe she’s fucked up as bad as I am. I know she was after telling me about Amelia.
I try damned hard not to think about that night, her scent, her skin. The woman had been wrung out and so scared that her whole world would write her off after the truth came out. I can’t speak for anyone else that may find out, but I didn’t dismiss her. I did the opposite and drew closer like an idiot.
I shouldn’t have noticed how much more alluring Birdie’s scent was with my nose pressed to her hair. I certainly shouldn’t have closed my eyes and reveled in the feeling of Birdie’s body nestled so tightly against mine while she slept.
I shouldn’t have, but I did. And that’s all I’ve been able to think about since that night. If Jackson was right about anything, it’s that. The closer I get to Birdie Crenshaw, the more I want her. Keeping away from her is a living hell.
Fighting my desire to walk into that house is bad enough that I can’t sit still in this damned seat, no matter how hard I try. Only my SEAL training allows me to keep focused on watching the street, not that I’m having an easy time of it.
My phone buzzes from its place in the cup holder. I know who it is without looking. I feel her. I reach for the phone, knowing I shouldn’t answer the message.
I feel guilty trying to sleep while people sit outside my house all night.
Thumbing in my reply, I begin with, Don’t. It’s part of my—
I pause and back out the last word, instead adding, “our jobs” and sending. Not changing the message would have been a mistake. The pull toward Birdie is too strong to let on that I’m the one outside.
The dots beneath Birdie’s name flash, and I’m not surprised to see her trying to rationalize herself out of this situation. It’s stupid to assign an entire team to guard one person. It makes much more sense for me to go back to campus tomorrow.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart.”
I thumb in a slightly different response than my whispered words and hit send. I wouldn’t, not that Knot will let you back in. My suggestion is to enjoy your freedom while you have it. My team is deploying Monday for the job in DC, leaving no operatives here. If your attacker is still loose, you’ll have no choice but to go back.
I watch the screen for a while, waiting for Birdie’s reply. A full three minutes pass with the little indicator bubble coming and going as if she’s struggling to get her thoughts together. If she brings up the kiss, I’ll have to shut her down.
She’s too damned close, and we’re too alone. The temptation would be too great. Hell, it already is. I shouldn’t even be texting her because I’m supposed to be protecting her ass.
I scan the street and her house for the fiftieth time, just before my phone sounds with a new message. I’m almost disappointed to see the subject isn’t our kiss. I got Mercan tonight. He’s on record, in writing. I set up a meeting for Monday.
“What the hell?” I whisper yell to myself. Pecking at my phone violently, I message back. You are not meeting this prick.
God, no. Police have everything they need. My presence won’t be necessary.
Leaning my head back, I sigh. It’s time to end this, so I send, Get some sleep, Birdie.
“And I’ll try not to think about your ass nestled against my dick.”
One more message comes in a minute later, and I just know it will ruin my night. I don’t regret what I did.
My eyes drift closed, and I groan. “Oh, fuck.”
Then, knowing she’ll hate me but needing to do it, I answer back, But I do.
Birdie
God, I wish Sadie were back. I’ve spent the last week on a roller coaster from hell and haven’t had my best friend around for support. While her counsel is typically about as comforting as a bed of glass, I know she’s only looking out for me and never gives me bullshit advice.
Although, when she finds out about my secret life, I’m sure she’ll give me plenty of shit then. At this point, it’s not a question of if. It’s only a matter of time before she knows.
Tapping my stylus on the large mahogany desk, I exhale loudly toward the window. My Friday has been boring so far. After the week I’ve had, you would think boredom would be a welcome break, but I’ve been high-strung for a long enough stretch that this quiet solitude is getting to me.
I know I can’t go traipsing around the mall, but I walk outside to the surveillance car where Brody Dunmire, my current security operative, ushers me into the back seat. “What’s up?”
“I didn’t know who was on duty this morning. I need to do a little grocery shopping. Can I do that?”
