Paul opened his mouth. He meant to say something practical. Something dismissive. Maybe even deflect with a joke. But then he saw her.
Birdy Chou was marching toward him from across the café. Her dark coat flared out behind her. Her hair caught the warm glow of the overhead lights. She moved like someone who didn’t ask for permission, like someone who made things happen.
The smile hit him before he could stop it. Full, bright, and uncontainable. His heart did this stupid flip, and every part of him—from his spine to the soles of his boots—leaned toward her.
Mariah followed his gaze, then turned back slowly, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.
“Huh,” she said, standing and sliding her chair in. “Guess I got my answer.”
Paul got his answer too; he was in love with Birdy Chou. It didn't make sense. And that was fine by him.
No woman had ever gotten his heart to skip this many beats. No woman made him want to take care of her and also watch her soar. He could help Birdy fly so high and then tuck her safely into his arms. If only she'd let him.
“So what's this, huh? I don't give you the answer you want, so you start chatting up another woman to fake marry?”
Those were all words from the English language. Except when put together, they made no sense. Until they did.
“Birdy,” Paul said, his grin hitching back into place, “I can’t see anyone else.”
Her mouth opened—ready for another volley—but he didn’t let her get a word in.
“I mean that literally. When you walk into a room? It’s like someone cut the lights on everyone else. You’re all I can see. When I close my eyes, it’s only you. When I’m writing a report, and I spellcheck the word ‘intimidating’—it comes with a picture of you in my mind. If you weren’t a lawyer, I’d accuse you of witchcraft.”
Birdy's jaw worked. Her eyes flashed. But the fire was… faltering. Not gone—but flickering. Like he’d managed to surprise her.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She looked at him like he was the storm now. And she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to run through it or take cover inside of it.
“Birdy,” he said gently, “this is Mariah. Captain Mariah Ellis. Army JAG. Old friend.”
Mariah raised a hand with an amused little wave.
“She was consulting on the case. Custody issues, guardianship angles. She’s brilliant. Almost as brilliant as the woman who argued six successful motions before lunch yesterday. Whose only flaw, apparently, is misfiling her biennial paperwork.”
Mariah slung her coat over her arm. “Well. I’ll leave you two to your… courtship strategy meeting. Good luck.”
Paul waited until Mariah was out of earshot. He was already going to get raked over the coals in their vet group chat by the pieces Mariah had heard firsthand. No need to give her more ammunition.
When Paul turned back to Birdy, she was suddenly all business, her voice clipped, her eyes focused. Her arms crossed over her chest, hands balled into determined little fists.
“If we do this?—“
Truth be told, that's all Paul heard. Everything after that was static. In fact, he didn't even hear theif.All he heard wasweanddoandthis.
“…it’s because it’s the most legally sound option. It gives Beverly and the baby stability, and it strengthens our position in front of the judge. I have a clause I’ll want added to the guardianship agreement…”
He couldn’t help it. His smile broke wider. Brighter. Like the sun had just elbowed through cloud cover and parked itself across his whole body.
She'd stopped talking. She was staring at him. She reached for his arm… and gave his biceps a squeeze. “Put your arms around me.”
Paul didn't ask why. He did as he was told. He wondered if he should flex. But her next action stole the breath from his lungs and the strength from his entire body.
Birdy Chou rose up on her toes. And then she kissed him. No warning. No lead-up. Just a swift, sudden, soft press of her lips against his.
The impact was a detonation behind his eyes. His pulse roared. His hands moved on instinct, ready to pull her in, to anchor her, to never let her go?—
But she was already gone.
One step back.
