Page 218 of Even Exchange

My chest warms. “I love you, NoahGabrielCaruso.”

“I love you, CharlotteCaruso,” he says, and a wide smile fills my face.

Because I thought I loved it when he said my name, but I love Charlotte Caruso even more.

51

CHARLOTTE

The only thing hotter than a man wearing a backwards ball cap is a man carrying a car seat one-handed with a baby sleeping soundly inside.

I slowly trail Noah up our driveway, and he sets Gabriella down to unlock the door, given his other arm is in a sling. We make our way inside, the overpowering smell of bleach assaulting my senses.

Our eyes meet.

“Want to stay somewhere else tonight?” Noah suggests.

I shake my head. “This is our home. We can’t let what happened here take that from us.”

He smiles softly. “Scars and all?”

I nod. “Scars and all.”

We can think about moving some other time. Right now I need to lie down, rest, and snuggle my little Ella. I’m sore as hell, my boobs are throbbing, and walking is a bitch, but I did it. She burst out of me, and I survived.

Noah won’t admit it, but he’s exhausted too. After all,he’sthe one who was shot. By me. His wife.Never gonna live that down.But he refused to leave my side except for a few scans and stitches.

Our friends were in the waiting room, but we haven’t announced anything publicly yet. If my mother had shown up, I’m not sure what I’d have done. I’m still not sure how to deal with her. She clearly helped Noah’s father get out, but whether or not that’s illegal is to be determined. For now we’re going to keep our distance.

In our room, I give Gabriella a quick feed and place her in the bassinet next to the bed. In the closet I grab comfier clothes and spot the dress I wore to break into the Benson estate on the floor. I pick it up to toss in the hamper, and the little flash drive I stole clicks against the floor.

In all the craziness, I completely forgot about it.

I bend down, wincing, and pick it up. After changing and putting on that god-awful postpartum underwear, I grab the baby monitor and wobble to the living room.

“Can you get a laptop?” I ask Noah.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asks, using his one good hand to wash a dish at the sink.

“Shouldn’t you?” I counter, with a cocked brow.

“Touché.”

“I found a flash drive with the files,” I tell him, sinking onto the couch.

“Can’t checking it wait?”

“Given the amount of info my mother had on you, I’m sure she’s heard about your father’s death and Gabriella’s birth by now. I want to know every detail before she tries to contact me.”

“What’s on it?”

“I have no clue. But it was in a locked drawer, so it seemed important.”

“Do youwantto look?” Noah asks timidly.

I spin the little thumb drive between my fingers. “It would probably be more dangerous not to,” I point out. Knowing her affinity for blackmail, it could quite literally be on anyone.

We pull out Noah’s laptop and a USB to USB-C converter and plug it in. He gestures for me to go ahead, and I suppose since it’s my mother’s collection of chaos, I should do the honors.

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