Page 61 of Risk It All
She felt Henry stiffen as they both looked at her shoulder. He pulled her shirt away from the stinging injury so they could see it.
“Just a scratch,” she said, relieved that there wasn’t a bullet lodged inside her that she hadn’t noticed because of shock or adrenaline or whatever. “It’s already stopped bleeding.”
“We’re still getting that looked at. The paramedics are staging at the front of the building,” Henry said, taking her other hand and leading her that way. Cara went willingly, happy to get away from the gross alley and the waking Layla, even if she was currently disarmed and surrounded by FBI agents. Norah trailed close behind, still looking spooked. Cara couldn’t blame her.
Despite her sister’s presence, Cara couldn’t help but squeeze Henry’s hand and lean closer against his arm. It was such a relief that he was out of jail and everyone knew that he wasn’t a murderer.
Her phone beeped in her pocket, and she pulled it out with her free hand, hiding her wince as the movement pulled at the scrape on her shoulder. As she unlocked her screen and saw the text from Molly pop up over the other open app, she smiled.
“I recorded Layla’s confession,” she said, stopping the audio recording. “Will this work as your evidence?”
Henry actually looked startled before his expression eased into a smile—a real one, not one of his tiny lip twitches. “You’re pretty amazing.”
“I know, right?”
Norah snorted a watery laugh. That set Cara off, although Henry just looked at her as if she was crazy for laughing—but he also looked like he loved that crazy part of her, too.
Chapter 19
As soon as Cara sat on the porch swing, Warrant climbed up next to her and tried to wiggle onto her lap.
“What’s with you?” she asked, scratching behind his ears when he finally settled with half of his body stretched over her thighs. “Were you worried about me, too?”
She’d been dealing with concerned sisters—and her honorary brother—all week since the whole Layla incident. She couldn’t really blame them, since she’d been kidnapped and then re-kidnapped and then was almost killed, but she was feeling a bit claustrophobic. Today was the first day that she’d been allowed to be alone, except for the furry white beast sprawled on her lap. She ignored the tiny voice in her brain reminding her that she didn’t really want to bealone. Even though Henry had only been gone a week, she missed him fiercely.
With her toe, she moved the swing just slightly, since Warrant didn’t care for the rocking sensation, and enjoyed the peace. Even when their irate neighbor Mr. Petra glared at her from his screened-in porch next door, she just smiled and waved. His grumpiness was normal, and normal was so reassuring.
A car cruised down the street, catching her attention. She watched it closely, not recognizing it. Instantly, she was on high alert, her mind throwing out possibilities. Was it treasure hunters? One of Jane’s sleazier friends? Had Detective Mill changed vehicles to stalk them more easily? The sun reflected off the windows, preventing Cara from seeing inside the vehicle.
When the car came to a stop at the curb, she tensed, her fingers slipping into her jacket pocket and wrapping around her phone. The driver’s side door opened, and a large, familiar form got out. She relaxed, releasing her grip on her cell as he made his way up the front walk. Everything inside her warmed with pleasure at the sight of him.
“You’re here,” she said, unable to stop a huge smile from spreading across her face. “In a suit, too.” He looked really good in that suit—even better than he had in his clingy wet long underwear or his FBI gear.
“I’m here.” He paused at the base of the porch steps, actually looking uncertain. Warrant raised his head to look at Henry, then thumped his tail against the swing and dropped his muzzle onto her lap again. Henry cleared his throat, and Cara stared at him, completely thrown by his obvious awkwardness. “I’ve been assigned to the FBI office in Denver.”
This made her smile even more broadly. Although he wouldn’t be in Langston with her, Denver was close enough to make her happy.
After climbing the porch steps, he leaned against the railing in front of her. If she swung hard enough, her knees would touch his, and her whole body lit up at the thought of that tiny touch. A week had been too long. Her body was starved for him. “I’ve found an apartment in Langston,” he said.
Her heart gave a happy little jump. “Why not in Denver?”
If she wasn’t quite certain that he was physically incapable of blushing, she would’ve thought that a bit of red was creeping up from his collar. Despite his uncharacteristic shyness, he met her eyes boldly. “Because you’re here.”
Now she was blushing, too. Her heart pounded faster than it had when she’d been kidnapped.
“When I was undercover, I couldn’t do this, not without putting you in danger.”
“Do what?” She swallowed, pretty sure she knew but needing to hear it from his own mouth. He’d been such an enigma, and she didn’t want to have to guess what he was feeling or thinking anymore. She just wanted him to say it out loud.
“Ask you out.”
There it was, as bald and obvious as she’d wanted, but now she realized that she had to reciprocate. “Okay. Right now? Because I want to change first to something with less dog hair on it.”
He grinned, and it was beautiful. “Tonight?”
“Sure.” She couldn’t stop herself from smiling back.
“Tomorrow, too.”
