By the time she reached for the handle, he already had her door open.
“Inside.”
Julia looked past him toward the house again.
“This is a terrible idea,” she said softly.
“We can argue about it inside.”
“Leland…”
His gaze swept automatically toward the street before returning to her. “Not here where you’re out in the open.” His tone wasn’t harsh, just nonnegotiable.
Reminded of the scrunchie and how close the stalker had gotten, a chill slid through her. She stepped out and walked to his front door. Leland stayed close enough that she could feel him at her back. She noticed security cameras positioned discreetly along the perimeter. Not obvious unless you were looking. And she was.
Once inside, he locked and dead-bolted the door. The control panel on the wall was next, Leland punching a bunch of buttons. His distraction gave her a chance to look around.
His place was exactly what she expected. And not at all.
Heavy wood furnishings with steel and glass accents. But there were softer traces. Bookshelves actually used for that purpose. A blanket thrown carelessly over one corner of the couch. Masculine without trying to prove it. Like him.
Framed photographs dotted the wall. The first one she noticed was of a group of men in uniform—a military unit, all of them young but already hard-edged, their faces radiating an intensity you couldn’t fake. Leland was among them, impossibly young, his expression unreadable even then.
Farther along hung another photo: Leland and Dev in dark suits, standing in front of an official-looking seal. Below it, a small commendation plaque caught the light.
None of it seemed displayed for show. These were pieces of a past he didn’t talk about, and she felt the gravity of that.
“I adjusted the system,” he said, moving past her. “Increased the sensitivity settings of both the alarms and motion detectors. Stay clear of the doors and windows, or you’ll set it off. Otherwise, make yourself at home.”
Home. Right.
He gestured toward the hallway. “Bedroom’s there.”
“You have more than one, right?”
“Yep, but only one bed. Don’t worry about it.”
Julia blinked. “I’ll take the couch.”
He looked at her. “That’s not happening.”
She exhaled, frustration threading through her. “Fine.”
He disappeared into the bedroom and returned a few moments later with a folded shirt. “You can sleep in this.”
She took it. Soft. Worn. His.
“Alec and Emily will go by your place in the morning,” he added. “Pack what you need.”
Julia hesitated, fingers flexing around the shirt. “I haven’t thanked you.”
He didn’t reply, and she filled the space. “This is… a lot. And I don’t have any way of paying any of you for what you’ve been doing.”
“I don’t recall any of us asking. We take care of our own.”
She held his gaze. “I haven’t been one of you for months.”
“You are. Staying away was your decision. Not ours.”
