“You think there are rules to this?” She pulled back enough to meet his gaze. “What, like some kind of organized operation?”
“Has to be, doesn’t it? Multiple victims, different locations but similar circumstances.” He feathered the hair near her ear, unable to stop touching her. “Young women disappearing without a trace, then turning up in remote places. A baby is missing. Could be human traffickers.”
“Except traffickers don’t usually kill their merchandise,” Sabrina stated flatly. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless they’re making examples. Showing what happens to people who don’t cooperate.” Her voice dropped lower. “Like mothers who won’t give up their babies.”
The implications settled cold in Noah’s chest. “Or friends who might know too much.”
“Like Camille.” Sabrina pushed closer, as if seeking shelter from the darkness of their theories. “This is going on here, in Dark Canyon, Noah. Whatever the answer is, this is where we live. We have to stop it. How can we when we don’t know anything about the people responsible?”
“I don’t know.” He gathered her closer, and she came willingly, melting against him like she needed this connection as much as he did. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”
She hummed against his neck, the sound doing dangerous things to his equilibrium. “I like the idea of figuring things out together.”
If that wasn’t a positive sign, he didn’t know what was. His heart expanded, pressing against his ribs with everything he felt for this woman. Having her here, in his space, trusting him with her fears and theories—it felt right. Perfect. Like everything finally clicking into place.
“You know what I like?” He traced her jaw with his thumb, tilting her face up to his. “This. Us. The way you fit here.”
Her smile was soft, edges blurred with exhaustion and leftover adrenaline. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He brushed his lips across hers, gentle as morning light. “I think better when you’re here.”
She made a sound low in her throat and pressed closer, deepening the kiss. Heat sparked between them, but tempered with something else. Something that felt like coming home.
When they finally broke apart, she stayed close, forehead resting against his.
“Iambetter when you’re here,” she whispered, like it was a confession.
The words lodged in his chest like sunlight. This was her figuring it out, in real time. Choosing to let him in, to trust him with her heart. Ever since that night in Moab when she’d stayed despite her fears, he’d felt them moving toward something real. Something lasting.
Having her here now, tucked against him after a rough morning, the dogs playing together, it felt like everything clicking into place. Like his whole life had been leading to this moment, this woman, this perfect certainty that they belonged together.
Why weren’t they doing this every day?
“Move in with me.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. Not how he’d planned to ask—he’d actually had plans involving dinner and maybe some strategic usage of both dogs’ best begging faces. But watching her in his space, the way she fit so naturally into every corner of his life, the question just bubbled up, impossible to contain.
He’d never balked at jumping without a parachute before. Why start with this?
Except instead of enthusiastic agreement with this very solid plan, Sabrina’s spine went ramrod straight.
“What?” Her voice came out strangled.
“Move in with me,” he repeated and thought about getting down on one knee, but he hadn’t bought a ring yet, and that kind of proposal did deserve the right circumstances. “You like my house, right? You know Ripley loves the backyard and Dancer. I want you here. All the time. In every part of my life.”
Her expression froze. “Noah—”
“I know it’s fast.” He reached for her hands. “I know we haven’t really talked about what happened in Moab. We can though. Anytime. What we can’t do is waste any time getting on with the rest of our lives. Nothing about us has been slow. Why start now?”
“Because.” She yanked her hands free, wrapping her arms around herself. “Because this is the opposite of giving me a chance to take a breath. You promised you’d give me space to figure this out, not push me into a corner and throw up a steel wall so I can’t escape.”
Wow. That was a visual he had not seen coming. He blinked as she scrambled off the couch, backing away. From him. As if her metaphorical steel wall might be in his pocket.
What in the world?
