She spotted his jacket, the one he’d stripped off when they set to work that morning. Glancing toward the back again to ensure he didn’t see what she was doing, she crossed the space and slid the note into the inside pocket.
It wasn’t much of an expression of gratitude for being there for her. But right now, it was all she had. And maybe, when he found it later—when she wasn’t standing here turning pink—he’d understand just how much today meant to her.
Chapter Nine
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of the ranch house. Felicity turned toward him, the low sun catching her hair and setting it alight—gold and copper, like fire Gabe couldn’t look away from.
He couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and cupping her cheek. “I’m glad you agreed to stay here until we figure out what’s going on.”
What’s going on.Like it was some small glitch in her life—a plumbing leak or a furnace problem. Not someone out to, if not hurt her, then terrify her.
And there was still the issue of the stolen journal. That person was looking for something. Gabe had snapped photos of everything in the box Henry sent, but he now wished he’d taken detailed photos of each page in that journal. Then he might find an answer to who was stalking her.
She reached across the console and touched his hand. He automatically meshed his fingers with hers, and she gave his a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for everything, Gabe.”
“No need to thank me. I’m…invested.”
Her breath caught, and their gazes locked for a heartbeat. Finally, she withdrew her hand and reached for the handle. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“I’ll be in the office if you need me.”
They climbed out and closed the doors at the same time. In the back was another duffel of clothes she’d grabbed from her house. He pulled it out, and she stepped close, reaching to take the bag from him. They both froze, hesitant to part ways, even for a short time before dinner.
Her eyes warmed with that softness he’d seen as he joined their bodies.
At the memory, his cock was already half-mast. “Have fun with your sister, bookshop.”
“Have fun with Carson.”
She turned and mounted the steps with a wave, disappearing into the house. He watched her go.
When he turned toward the entrance of the Black Heart Security office, a thought struck him—he couldn’t remember the last time he felt such peace without even trying. Without all the coping mechanisms he learned in the program and a few he taught himself after leaving.
Felicity…calmed the noise.
Carson was at his desk, chair angled back, boots up, eyes narrowed on a screen of live feeds—what looked like bodycam footage from one of his team in the field.
Gabe followed the footage. “Things all right in California?”
His boots hit the floor. “Depends on your point of view. My brothers and Decker are running security for a company in the midst of a hostile takeover. Things are touch and go. Some days they tell me they think a resolution’s in sight. Then all hell breaks loose with employees attacking each other and making threats against the CEO.”
“Damn. Sounds like a warzone.”
Their gazes met. Carson was a former SEAL. Gabe fought with the best in the Middle East. They both knew it was far from a warzone, even though the Black Heart Security team wasn’t navigating easy terrain.
Carson left the monitors running but turned his full attention on Gabe. “How’s she holding up?”
“Better than she should be.” He dropped into a chair and folded his arms. “Whoever’s doing this is looking for something.”
“You believe they’ll find it in the journal?”
He nodded. “I think all of this is connected to that friend of hers—Henry. Any way can you run a background check on him? See if he’s still alive and if not, who stands to gain from stealing his journal.”
Carson drew his keyboard closer and set his fingers to the keys. “I’ll set up the preliminary name search. Willow usually does a deeper dive once the information comes back.”
“I see. This guy is smart enough to keep from being caught three times now. And I’m pretty sure he used a jammer to scramble the camera feed.”
“For sure. Not many people around here would know how to do that.” Carson didn’t lift his eyes from his monitor. “Henry Alder?”
