Page 59 of Cyclone

And for the first time, I couldn’t wait to see what came next.

32

Jude

When I walked into the office the next day, Owen handed me a small folder.

“First case officially closed.

And... if you're serious about sticking around, we could use someone with your instincts.

Permanent gig. Are you interested?”

I blinked, the weight of his offering hitting hard and fast.

A real job.

A real future.

A life that wasn't just surviving day to day.

“I’m interested,” I said, my voice steady.

“Very interested.”

He grinned, reaching out to shake my hand.

“Welcome to the team, Jude.”

The second our hands touched, the front door creaked open behind me.

I turned — and my heart stopped.

Cyclone.

Standing there in the doorway, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, that slow, crooked smile lighting up his whole face.

His eyes — God, those eyes — locked onto mine and didn’t let go.

“You finished early,” I breathed, already moving toward him.

He dropped the bag without looking away from me.

“Couldn't stay away another minute.”

Before I could say anything else, he closed the distance and hauled me into his arms, lifting me clean off the floor like I weighed nothing, and kissing me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder, breathing him in — the leather, the sunshine, the scent that was just purehim.

Cyclone set me down but didn’t let me go, cupping my face in both hands.

“You okay?” he murmured, his forehead resting against mine.

“I’m good,” I whispered, heart pounding.

He kissed me — slow and deep, right there in the middle of the office, like we had all the time in the world.

Like nothing and no one else mattered.

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