The word hung between them, weighted with meaning neither of them was quite ready to name.
That night, Micah pulled up to Refuge Cove just after eight.
He typed in his code and drove through.
Being here felt like coming home.
He immediately shut down that thought, chiding himself for even thinking it.
This wasn’t home. This was a job. A case. A family he was protecting because it was his responsibility.
But as he parked near the house and saw the warm light glowing through the windows, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it. Because this felt personal. He felt connected. And he knew his heart wanted more—though he refused to act on any of those feelings.
He climbed out of his SUV and walked to the side door.
It opened before he could knock.
Naomi stood in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked tired, but her eyes brightened when she saw him.
“Hey,” she said. “I heard you pull in.”
He stopped in front of her, suddenly uncertain. “I wanted to check in. See how you’re doing. I know I could have called but . . .”
“I’m okay. Do you want to talk on the porch? Grace is sleeping, and I have the baby monitor with me.” She held up the device.
“Sure.”
She began walking around to the front porch, not limping quite as a badly as she had earlier.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked.
“Better. Still sore, but the swelling’s gone down.”
“Good.”
They climbed the six steps up to the porch. The swing pendulated in the corner, creaking slightly in the breeze. Naomi settled onto it, wrapped the blanket around herself, and patted the space beside her.
Micah hesitated half a second before sitting.
The swing rocked gently under their combined weight.
Naomi offered part of the blanket. “You want to share? It’s big enough.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s cold out here. If you change your mind, the offer stands. Besides, there’s nothing better than a cool October night, a porch swing, and a comfy blanket.”
“Fine. You sold me.” He wasn’t actually cold. But refusing the offer felt wrong somehow.
Plus, the thought of being that close to Naomi . . . it was tempting.
She shifted closer and draped half the blanket over his shoulders. The fabric was soft and warm from her body heat, and it smelled faintly of lavender.
They sat in silence, the swing moving in a slow, steady rhythm.
The night was clear and brisk. The stars overhead were sharp and bright.
“Did you find anything?” Naomi finally asked. “At the station?”
