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)
Eventually, I force myself to pull back, just enough to see her face. Her eyes remain closed for a moment, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, her breathing uneven. When she looks up, there’s a question in her gaze, one I’m probably wearing in my own expression.
I press my forehead to hers, fighting the urge to claim her lips again. “You okay?” I whisper, my voice laced with all the desire and concern coursing through me.
She nods, her breath fanning my cheek. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice unsteady. “Better now.”
I wrap my arms around her once more, holding her tight as if I can shield her from the nightmares, from Jason, from everything. And for a moment, it feels like maybe I can. Because right now, in this moment, nothing and no one else exists but us.
Chapter 11
Briar
I sit up, still recovering from the searing kiss Orion just gave me. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. He’s leaning over me, concern etched across his features. A thousand questions swirl in my mind, but the one that surfaces first is Does he do this with all the women he protects? The thought makes my stomach flip. I remind myself he’s only here to keep me safe, that what just happened probably doesn’t mean anything beyond a heated moment.
I clear my throat, desperate to dispel the thick tension hanging in the room. “I—um—would love some soup,” I blurt, voice shaky but determined. My nightmares, this kiss, the adrenaline—everything’s got me exhausted, and I realize I’m starving.
Orion blinks, clearly thrown by my abrupt change of subject, but he nods. “Right. Soup. Let’s get you fed.”
He stands, offering me a hand. The warmth of his skin sends a spark through me again, but I quickly tamp it down. I let him guide me into the kitchen. The comforting aroma of whatever he’s cooking wraps around me like a soft blanket. I slip onto one of the chairs at the small table, pressing my hand against my still-thudding heart, willing it to calm down.
Orion ladles soup into a bowl and sets it in front of me, a slight frown tugging at his features. “I’m sorry about the kiss,” he says quietly, grabbing a spoon and placing it next to the bowl. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in, though my cheeks burn at the memory. More than fine, part of me wants to add, but I squash that thought. “I mean, it happened. Don’t worry about it.”
He stands across the table, arms crossed, watching me as I take a tentative sip. The soup is savory and soothing, warmth spreading through my chest. He’s not as relaxed as he was before. I can feel the tension in the air. I swallow a spoonful and decide to address it head-on.
“So, what happens now?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “How long do we have to stay holed up here while Jason is out there, doing God knows what? I hate not knowing. I want to go back to my normal life—go home. Pretend he was just a bad dream.”
Orion’s eyes flicker with something—anger, worry, maybe both. He exhales, resting his hands on the back of a chair. “I know it’s frustrating. We can’t say for sure how long this will take. It depends on the restraining order, the investigation, and whether we can actually pin something on him.”
He hesitates, then his gaze drifts back to me, more intense now. “Briar… I need to know more about Jason. About what he’s done. Did he ever—” He stops, jaw clenching like he’s trying to force the words out. “Did he ever hurt you physically?”
My stomach twists as the question hangs in the air. I stare down at my soup, stirring it absently. Memories flash through my mind: Jason’s accusations, his grip on my arm, the way he’d corner me. I press my lips together, feeling a swell of shame for letting it get that far—even though I know it wasn’t my fault.
“He never left bruises,” I say finally, voice quieter than I intend. “Not obvious ones, anyway. But there were times he… grabbed me, shoved me. It started small. I tried to convince myself I was overreacting, that he was just upset. Then it got worse. Words turned into harsher words, threats. Eventually, I realized he would never change.”
I sneak a look at Orion. His knuckles are white, gripping the chair so hard I’m worried he’ll snap the wood. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his eyes burn with anger. The protective stance he’s in radiates a kind of quiet fury—like he wants nothing more than to track Jason down and make him pay.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says, his voice tight but controlled. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”