She pulled the sheet around her, sitting up as the cooler morning air brushed her skin. The small apartment felt different with him moving through it—more alive, more like a home.
“Coffee?” she offered as she caught the length of the sheet, lifting it so she could pad barefoot to the kitchen.
Talon called from behind her, “Don’t have time to drink it.”
She shook her head. “Then I’ll make you one to take,” she said, already reaching for the travel mug.
It was instant—and probably not to his standard—but she wanted to give him something. Sue her. She wanted to have that connection, too. Besides, today would be hard. It would be another day of digging for clues while covering her tracks. She needed every good feeling she could gather. What she was doing wouldn’t win her any favors from her father.
He took it when she offered, his fingers brushing hers. His gaze was steady, and for a moment, she felt like he could see right through her.
“You’ve got that look,” he said quietly.
She arched a brow. “How do you know my looks already?”
He took a sip of the coffee and barely contained the shudder that ran through him.
“Is it that bad?”
“I’ve had much worse.” As if to prove the point, he took another sip. No shiver of disgust this time. “And I’m not letting you redirect the conversation. What’s on your mind? You didn’t tell me at the restaurant. You started to but then chickened out.”
She smoothed her smile into place, the one she used on stubborn stakeholders. “It’s nothing. Just a full day ahead. Inspections and the daily grind.”
“Dangerous stuff,” he said dryly as he reached for his shoes.
“You have no idea,” she whispered quietly.
At the door, she caught his hand. “Tonight?”
“Tonight,” he promised, and for a moment, the certainty in his voice steadied her.
The door closed behind him, and she stood for a minute in the quiet. The scent of his cologne lingered faintly in the air. She pressed her fingers to her lips, then turned back to her day, the weight of what she hadn’t said still heavy in her chest.
The apartment felt emptier after Talon left. His cologne still lingered faintly in the air, the faint dent of his weight still on her bed. Yet there wasn’t time to linger.
After showering and dressing, she made the short walk to the ESG office. The air was already warming with the promise of another punishingly hot day. Overhead, the pale sky was cloudless, washed out by the kind of sunlight that bleached color from everything.
The morning started the same way. She started the coffee and then went to work. She checked theair quality monitors first and logged dust levels against the previous week. There were slight fluctuations, but nothing outside the expected range.
Next came the tailings pond pH readings and water treatment discharge data. She compared them to last month’s environmental baselines, making quick notations for the quarterly report.
Her tablet pinged with a calendar reminder: Stakeholder briefing in three weeks. By midmorning, the heat pressed through the walls, the ceiling fan stirring the heavy air as she moved to the export compliance dashboard. It was the same interface she’d looked at a hundred times, the same one she’d been in last night before leaving to meet Talon at the gate.
Her cursor hovered over the Special Mineral Compounds line item, her pulse quickening despite herself. She pulled her gaze away, focusing on the environmental compliance summary she’d need for the quarterly report. She told herself to stick to the job in front of her, to keep her actions clean, her requests justifiable.
Her phone buzzed. It was Marisol from logistics, confirming delivery times for the week. Riley kept her voice light, efficient, and professional. By early afternoon, she’d made her rounds to the communityliaison office, signing off on the next supply run to the clinic, then walked the perimeter of the water treatment facility. The faint, acrid smell of chemical reagents hung in the air, sharp enough to sting the back of her throat.
She noted the readings on the flow meters, which were higher than she’d like. The readings could be explained by high seasonal rainfall. It could also be explained by overprocessing. Damn it.
Her thoughts drifted back to Talon. Not the quiet of his voice when he’d told herTonight, but the way he’d looked at her when he said she hadthat look.
He wasn’t wrong.
By the time she returned to her office, the afternoon light had shifted, turning the walls a pale gold. The hum of the air conditioning was the only sound. The workers had left for the day, and the quiet was a blessed balm to her exhausted mind.
She set her tablet on the desk, staring at the data that had become a shadow she couldn’t escape.
She couldn’t keep circling this forever.
