“Nah,” he lied. “It was about something else.”
She gave him a look, and he said, “Fine, it was about you, but I didn’t get in trouble.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” she asked.
He just shrugged. There was no fucking way he would ever tell Cece about his conversation with Mal. Mal had been nice about it, but he’d made it clear that Briggs’s behaviour was unprofessional before they’d had to veer into an incredibly uncomfortable conversation about Briggs’s attraction to Cece and the inappropriateness of sleeping with a client. Briggs had spent five long, sweaty minutes convincing Mal that the conduit thing wasn’t an issue and he could handle it. In the end, Mal hadn’t outright taken him off of Cece’s security detail, but he’d made it clear that this was Briggs’s last chance and that Mal wouldn’t hesitate to replace him.
Briggs’s plan to argue the forced two days off had gone out the window. He knew how damn lucky he was that Mal hadn’t pulled him off the job. His bear would probably lose his fucking shit for the entire two days, but Briggs would deal with it. Better for it to be just two days than to be separated from his mate permanently.
He muttered a curse as his bear growled with satisfaction. Now his fucking bear had him calling Cece his goddamn mate. Maybe the two days away would actually be a good thing. Allow him to get his fucking head straight and potentially even talk some sense into his bear.
“Briggs?” Cece said.
“Sorry. Up in my head for a minute. It’s fine, Cece. I’m not losing my job.”
She still looked worried but let it drop. Unfortunately, he didn’t like what she said next either. “We should talk about the mate thing from earlier.”
“That was my bear,” he said quickly. “The conduit thing has him confused, and he thinks you’re our mate.”
“Oh,” she said. “He told you that?”
Only every fucking hour, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “Yeah. Our bears are possessive, so smelling the warlock’s attraction to you pissed him off. I usually have more control over him, but the conduit thing has really amped him up about this mate thing.”
“So, he talks to you?” Cece asked with a look of fascination.
“Sort of. Not really, but yeah,” he said.
She laughed, and he gave her a rueful grin. “It’s hard to explain. Anyway, my bear will chill out once he realizes what he’s feeling isn’t real. He’ll get over the mate thing.”
He could smell her irritation immediately.
“Right,” she said before slamming the book shut and standing. “It’s late, I’m going to bed.”
“It’s only eight,” he said.
“I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m tired and cold,” she said. “Good night, Briggs.”
She left the kitchen with stiff shoulders and a thick scent of annoyance.
Briggs leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. Was Cece actually annoyed that his bear would eventually stop seeing her as his mate?
Briggs woke to the sound of soft rustling. He opened his eyes, his night vision kicking in instantly, and immediately rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Seconds later, there was a soft thump as the plants dropped Cece onto his bed.
He sat up as the vines reached for him, trailing along his shoulders and upper arms. He growled at them, and they shrank back, hovering a few feet above the bed. He reached for his phone. It was just after midnight, and he set his phone back on the nightstand before staring at Cece. She was still sound asleep, wearing her usual hoodie and flannel pajamas, and he briefly debated waking her up before deciding against it. She often talked about needing a lot of sleep, and she had to work in the morning.
Cece muttered something in her sleep before tucking her glowing hands into her armpits and curling into a tight ball. The cold room didn’t bother him one bit, but he didn’t doubt that she was freezing. He stood and headed out of his room, following the trail of vines hovering in the hallway toward her room. He returned with the mountain of blankets she kept on her bed, growling again when he saw that the plants had already wrapped around her and were lifting her off the bed.
“Put her down,” he snapped.
They dropped her on the bed and retreated, waving and undulating in the cold air. Briggs set the blankets on the bed and snarled at the vines, stalking toward them and herding the damn things out of the room with a few slaps of his hands against them and more low growling. He shut the door, rolling his eyes when the handle immediately turned. He locked the door and returned to the bed, piling the blankets on the sleeping Cece and keeping one for himself. He stole the extra pillow and stretched out on the floor, draping the blanket over his lower body and staring at the ceiling as he listened to the vines slithering and sliding over the door, and the rattling of the handle as they tugged at it every few seconds.
Above him, Cece made another soft mutter, and the bed squeaked as she shifted positions. He breathed in a deep lungful of her sweet scent and ignored his polar bear’s pleading to join her in the bed.
Christ, it would be a long fucking night.
CHAPTER 21
“Cece, can I talk to you for a minute?”
