Ryker’s thumb traced circles on my palm as he continued, “We even found follow-up police reports that had been buried by his father. Dear old dad is facing criminal charges now because of it.” His jaw tightened. “Point is, it’s over. The case has been dismissed. You’re a free woman.”
I touched my head where the injury had been, phantom pain flickering through the healed wound.
“You really thought you did this,” he said, the realization dawning on his face.
“I was covered in blood, holding a knife.” The memory still made my stomach turn. “So, yeah, of course I thought I did this.”
Something dark flashed in Ryker’s eyes. His voice dropped dangerously low. “After seeing that video, if I’d come across him after what he did to you? I might’ve taken justice into my own hands.”
“You wouldn’t have,” I said softly, but even as the words left my mouth, I wasn’t so sure. The look on his face—the tension radiating from his jaw, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was imagining wrapping them around someone’s throat—something in him had changed. The polished lawyer had a vigilante edge now, and honestly? It was kind of hot.
“What’s next?” I asked, needing to change the subject before I did something stupid, like climb him like a tree.
“Axel’s PR team is flooding the airwaves with this to clear your name. You’re innocent in the eyes of the public too.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You can go on with your life as the wrongfully accused rather than the killer who got away with it.”
“Wow.” I sank onto the kitchen island’s barstool, the reality finally hitting me. “This is really over.”
“O ye of little faith.”
I shot him a that’s-not-funny glare.
“It’s over.” His lips quirked into that smirk that made my knees weak. “So, now we have a very important question.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “What?”
“Which house does Rainbow like living at better? Mine or yours?” He leaned against the counter, all casual confidence. “Yours has that whole independent-woman vibe going for it. But mine?” The smirk widened. “Mine has a giant front window with approximately a thousand tiny people running around below that look like squirrels. It’s basically dog TV on steroids.”
Despite myself, I laughed, wiping a tear off my cheek. “Your place doesn’t allow pets.”
“Funny thing about iron-clad lease terms,” Ryker said, his mouth quirking up at one corner. “They get a lot more flexible when you have several lawyers I know reviewing them.” Heshrugged, all casual nonchalance. “And if that doesn’t work out, there’s a penthouse six blocks away that welcomes little monsters with open arms.”
As if sensing this decision was hers to make, Rainbow appeared from nowhere, doing her signature move of running circles around my feet like a furry tornado. Then she bolted to the front window. Sure enough, a family of birds chose that exact moment to fly past.
Rainbow went absolutely feral, barking with the fury of a hellhound, watching with satisfaction as the birds scattered from her wrath. They’d be back tomorrow, of course. They always were. But Rainbow would be ready, guardian of the house, protector from all things fluffy-tailed.
Just like Ryker had protected me. Scared away all my demons when I couldn’t do it myself.
“Now, we need to celebrate,” he said, pulling me up from the stool. “I made reservations at your favorite restaurant for later. Is it okay if I invite the guys and their better halves?”
My eyes welled with tears again. Damn it, I was turning into a freaking sprinkler system. “Yes,” I whispered. “I’d love that.”
I looked at Rainbow, who was still on bird patrol, then back at Ryker.
“Hey, Ryker?”
He cupped my cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Yeah?”
“Would it be okay if I packed a few more things and kept them here?”
His smile could have lit up the entire Chicago skyline. He knew what this meant. I wasn’t the type of girl who just suddenly moved in with a guy. My independence was hard-won and fiercely guarded. The closest I could come was doing it in stages, like a very cautious hermit crab switching shells. And for me, another suitcase or two was basically a marriage proposal.
“You’d better bring her rubber chicken,” he said, playing it cool, even though his eyes were practically dancing. “We left it atyour place. I think she misses it. She’s been giving me judgmental looks all week.”
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep that had been locked away for too long.
“Come on. I’m heading to the office to dot somei’s and cross somet’s. I can drop you off at your place on the way. Then we can come back here and celebrate before we … celebrate.” The way he said that last word, low and full of promise, sent heat straight through me.
I laughed again and smacked his chest. “You’re terrible.”
