She blinked. "What?"
"It's not safe. Your locks are forty years old. Your windows are single-pane. Anyone who wants in could get in."
Grace's fingers tightened on the blanket. "So I'll... get better locks."
"Good. But that'll take time," Luke said. "Days, maybe. And you can't stay here alone while you wait."
She stared at him. "Where am I supposed to go?"
The answer was immediate. Obvious.
"My place," Luke said.
Grace's expression shifted—surprise, then something harder to read. "No."
"Grace—"
"No," she repeated, standing now, blanket falling away. "Absolutely not."
Luke took a step toward her. Stopped himself. "Just listen?—"
"No, you listen," Grace said. Her voice was steady, but he could see the tremor in her hands. "You don't get to swoop in and reorganize my entire life because you're feeling guilty."
"This isn't guilt," Luke said.
"Isn't it?" Her eyes flashed. "You didn't want me in your life. You made that very clear. And now because I'm in danger, suddenly you care?"
"I've always cared?—"
"No," Grace cut in. "You cared about getting in my pants. About the sex." Her voice cracked. "You didn't care about me."
Luke felt something in his chest split open.
"I was a coward," he said.
It wasn’t enough.
“I didn't treat you the way you deserved. I cared more about my reputation than about you." He took a breath. "I'm not asking you to forgive me right now. I'm not asking you to take me back in this moment. I'm asking you to let me keep you safe."
He wanted her in his arms. He kept his distance instead. She didn’t want that from him. Not now. Not after he’d fucked it all up.
"My house has a security system," he said. “Locks on every window. Motion-sensor lights."
"Luke—" He could see the war happening behind her eyes—exhaustion versus pride, fear versus anger.
“I have a guest room," he added quietly. “You wouldn’t have to… This isn't about… This is about keeping you safe.”
Grace's expression wavered.
"Please," Luke said. "Please, Grace. Just until we catch whoever's doing this."
The silence stretched.
Grace looked away first, toward the window, toward the dark street beyond.
"Okay," she said finally.
Relief crashed through him so hard his knees almost buckled.
