She gripped the elevator rail with her good hand. The words came without conscious thought:
Lord, I've been playing it safe my whole life. Following rules, staying in my lane, never taking risks with my heart. But You brought me through bullets and bear spray to find this man, this team, this purpose. Please give me courage now. Not the courage to face assassins—You already gave me that. But the courage to be vulnerable. To say what's in my heart. And please... if this is Your plan, let him want me to stay. Let this be real. Let this be right.
The elevator dinged. Third floor.
Your will, not mine,she added quickly, the way her father had taught her.But Lord, I really hope Your will includes Griff.
She stepped out, took a deep breath, and headed for his room.
She found him sitting on the bed, fully dressed in jeans and a Knight Tactical t-shirt someone had brought him. He looked great. Alive. The bandage on his head was smaller now, and his color was back to normal.
"Hey," she said, hovering in the doorway.
"Hey yourself." His smile made her knees weak. "I'm getting sprung. Doc says she's driving us to her place. Apparently, I'm not allowed to be unsupervised for 48 hours, and the team’s heading back to Hope Landing in an hour."
"That sounds like Doc."
An awkward pause. They both started talking at once.
"Sarah, I need to?—"
"Griff, I want to?—"
They stopped, laughed nervously.
"You first," he said.
Sarah's courage fled. All her rehearsed words scattered. On the bedside table, she spotted two evidence bags. Her father's cross. Tank's tags.
"They returned our things," she said instead of everything she meant to say.
Griff picked up the bags, something shifting in his expression. "Yeah. The nurse brought them an hour ago."
He opened the bag with Tank's tags, running his thumb over the raised letters. Then her cross, the silver gleaming in the morning light.
"Sarah—"
"I want to stay."
The words burst out, completely unplanned.
Griff froze. "What?"
"I want to stay. With you. With the team. In Hope Landing or wherever." The words tumbled over each other now that the dam had broken. "I know we've only known each other a few weeks, and I know your life is dangerous, and I know I'm not trained for field work, but I can learn. I'm good at learning. And I can help with the financial stuff, the analysis, the?—"
"Sarah—"
"I'll talk to Admiral Knight. Make a presentation about why Knight Tactical needs a forensic specialist. I've already started a PowerPoint. Seventeen slides about cost-benefit analysis and?—"
"Sarah—"
"And if he says no, I'll find other work. There's got to be accounting firms in the area. Or I could go independent, work remotely. I'm very good with Excel, despite what you think, and?—"
"You want to stay?" He crossed to her in two strides.
"Yes."
"With me?"
