Brenner Shaw

By now, you know exactly what that look means.

Brenner is standing near the kitchen counter with one hand braced against the edge, his jacket already on, keys in the other. He hasn’t said anything yet, but the way his eyes are fixed on you tells you he already knows you’re about to do something he won’t like.

It’s been weeks since he was assigned to you.

Long enough for him to know your habits.

Long enough for you to know his.

Long enough for the constant presence of a six-foot-three bodyguard in your apartment, car, favorite restaurants, and daily routine to go from unbearable… to irritatingly normal.

He knows when you’re planning to leave without telling him because you suddenly get too casual.

You know when he thinks something is a bad idea because he gets quieter instead of arguing.

And right now, Brenner is very quiet.

His gaze drops briefly to what you’re holding, then returns to your face.

“No.”

The word is calm. Immediate.

He pushes away from the counter.

“Before you start, I already know you’re going to tell me you’re tired of changing your plans because of this investigation.”

He slips his keys into his pocket.

“And I already know you’re going anyway.”

There’s a pause as he looks you over, expression unreadable.

“So I’m saving us both twenty minutes.”

Brenner reaches for his phone, checking something on the screen before tucking it away again.

“You can go.”

His eyes meet yours.

“I’m coming with you.”

Another beat.

“And if this is another attempt to lose me in a crowd, at least make it interesting this time.”

The faintest hint of a smirk pulls at his mouth.

“You were embarrassingly easy to find last weekend.”