“No. I owe Dorian a call.”
“Dorian Moore?” A beat. “So you and Dorian are still close?”
“I’m too tired for this,” I murmur.
“It was a question.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Richard, please.”
There’s a sigh, the kind that comes from the bottom of a long, sleepless night.
“You know you can count on me, right?”
“Can I?” The words slip. “Jessica was looking into custody?—”
“She shouldn’t have said anything,” he mutters.
Of course. Always Jessica’s fault.
But then his voice softens. “Our daughter comes first. You know that.”
“I won’t let you take her from me,” I say quietly. “But…thank you. For caring.”
A beat of silence passes. I brace for an argumentative response, but instead get, “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
The line goes dead.
I scroll through Christine’s texts—supportive, fiery, threatening to “pay the Dick a visit.” I snort. Thank God for her.
I’m finishing email triage when knuckles rap lightly on my doorframe. Noah stands there and warmth rolls through me like a wave.
“Hey,” I breathe.
“Work as long as you need,” he says. “Just wanted you to know I’m here. Gabriel’s off the clock. When you’re ready, I’ll drive you home.”
Something inside settles. “You know what? I’m done.”
He helps me with my coat, brushes a soft kiss over my mouth, and ushers me out. Under the streetlights, with his arm around me, it hits me how natural this feels. How safe.
How much I’ll miss him when he’s gone.
I shove that thought away.
In the car, his hand finds mine.
“Tomorrow the legal team and KOAN are splitting up the witness list—running down anyone who can undercut the prosecution’s case.” he says. “We’ll track down that missing woman.”
“Has she resurfaced?”
“No. But we’ll find her.”
I don’t know how he does it—how he makes impossible things sound solvable.
I tell him about dinner at Richard’s tomorrow. He doesn’t like it—I see it—but he nods. “I’ll drive you. And pick you up.”
There’s something possessive in that. Something steady.
Something I want too much.