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“You got quiet. Thinking again? That has produced mixed results this week.”

Her voice held enough warmth that I smiled. I turned slightly toward her.

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

Georgia’s hand stopped moving. I touched her chin and tipped her face up so I could see her.

“I know four days is fast.”

Her eyebrows rose. “That is usually what people say immediately before doing something fast.”

“Probably.”

I let my thumb rest along her jaw.

“I also know the loft was supposed to be temporary. You took it because it made financial sense, and I offered it because it was empty.”

Georgia watched me without interrupting.

“That isn’t what I want anymore.”

Her expression softened.

I kept going before practical language could give me somewhere to hide.

“You are not temporary to me, Georgia. I don’t want you upstairs because it’s convenient. I want you here.”

Her eyes began to shine. I felt my chest tighten but did not look away.

“I want to wake up with you. I want you using my kitchen like you’ve lived here longer than four days. I want your clothes mixed in with mine and your coffee mug in the cabinet and whatever else comes with having you in the house.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. I brushed it away.

“I have spent years making room for work and expecting everything else to fit around it. Then you walked into my office, and somehow I started looking forward to the parts of the day that had nothing to do with catching anybody.”

Georgia’s mouth trembled into a smile.

“I’ve never met anyone like you. I have never felt this alive with anyone.”

The words left me exposed in a way a physical fight never had. I let them.

“I want you beside me. Not as my employee. Not because of Gavin. Not because of the balance or the loft or anything else we can put into paperwork.”

Georgia covered my hand with hers.

“Move into the house with me.”

She stared at me for a long moment.

I did not add conditions or try to make the silence easier.

Finally Georgia drew my hand away from her face and held it between both of hers.

“When I moved into the loft, I told myself it was perfect because it was practical. I could save money, keep working, and keep paying something that had been hanging over my family for years.”

I nodded.

“That choice was about surviving what was happening to me.”