Chapter 32
Adam
Jo lit up as she recounted the moment she’d told her dad about Josie Wade. Her energy perked and she started gesturing with her hands—she was luminous with joy.
“He didn’t cry outright, probably because of the whole stalker thing, but Adam… he was so genuinely happy for me. Excited. I don’t know why I doubted he’d react that way, but it was amazing.” Her eyes glittered back at me from her seat at the table.
Her seat.That felt right.
Not the time.
“I bet it’s a dream come true for him.”
Impossibly, her grin widened. “You think? Maybe I’ve gotten too wrapped up in my worries about people finding out to make a best guess on how they’ll respond to the truth…” She shook her head. “I can’t seem to shake the fear it’s a fluke. Or maybe he’s the only one who’ll be like that.”
“Happy for you? Excited? Is it just Elizabeth who wouldn’t be?” I asked.
She ate another bite and took her time chewing before she spoke again. “It’s definitely Elizabeth, but I think my mom, too. She was always so serious, and while I don’t think she hates my dad, I think she resents that he moved here and opened a bookstore, and this will feel like a betrayal of her in some way.”
I exhaled slowly. “That’s a lot to take on.”
“What is?”
“Your sister’s expectations. Your mother’s feelings about her first marriage, and in turn, her feelings about your father…”
Her lips flattened and she sighed. “Point taken.”
I couldn’t stop myself from tucking some hair behind her ear. Maybe this was the way I was appeasing the ever-present desire to run my fingers through it—so be it. “I don’t mean to sound harsh or like I’m judging you for feeling the way you do. You know your family dynamics and your feelings are legitimate. But I’m glad you’re willing to hear me out there, because you’re putting so much pressure on yourself and I hate for you to miss sharing this part of yourself with the people you love if you want to.”
She picked at her pasta and took another bite, evidently mulling over my words. After sipping her water, she set down her fork and squared her shoulders.
“You’re right, though. I’m assuming my work has anything to do with… anything. My work is just that—my work. If Elizabeth doesn’t agree with the choice, that’s okay. That’s her choice. And if my mom is mad at me for a while because she gets her feelings about my dad and our life here confused with my chosen profession, then that’s kind of her and her therapist’s deal to comb through.”
Good grief, she was adorable when she was determined like this. “Very wise.”
She tucked her lips between her teeth and squinted at me. “Yeah. I am.”
I chuckled. “You are. Truly.”
She dipped her head as though to say yeah, I know. “Which is why I also know it’s one thing to say all of that, and it’s another thing to believe it and actually function in a way that reflects it.”
Well, damn. There she goes again.
I threaded our fingers together and brought her hand to my mouth for a kiss. “That is very wise. Can I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
I took in the shadows under her eyes and the way the light above the table made her irises look like amber sunbursts in a richer brown now. “Go easy. Give yourself some grace with this change because, like you said, saying it and actually changing the way you think as a default is a process.”
A soft smile curled at the corner of her beautiful mouth. “Fair enough.”
“And while we’re on the subject, how do you feel about us telling Jess sooner than later?” I didn’t want to tell her about the moment earlier today when her friend had clearly felt shut out because Jo didn’t need that kind of pressure on her decision-making.
She rubbed at one eye, exhaustion more and more visible on her face and in her body. “I need to tell her. I’m sure it’s weird at work now. And I… I guess we don’t know how long this is going to go on for? How long until we can… find him or whatever the goal is?”
My goal would naturally be to eliminate the threat, but that couldn’t be the end here. Ideally, he’d do something stupid enough to get him on the police’s radar and scare him away from doing anything more serious, but who knew if we’d get so lucky.
“I don’t know. Hopefully, we’ll get a better picture of things in the next few days.”
Our team was combing through every angle of every video we’d found in town. They were tracing the license plate on the car he’d presumably driven, and I hoped it’d be a matter of time before we had more information and could help her life return to normal.
“I need to send an e-mail tonight before I tell Jess, but I’ll plan to talk to her tomorrow.” She set her fork and knife onto the plate and folded her paper napkin neatly. “I don’t really want everyone else to find out yet, though. Okay? I think I want to surprise them.”
“Devious of you,” I said, eyes glued to the little smirk on her lips.
“Not devious, but I feel like, at this point, it makes sense to wait until we get this situation more under control. I know I can trust Jess, though. And honestly, putting it off a little while gives me a chance to figure out how to tell Elizabeth and my mom. They won’t hear it from anyone accidentally, so I should have plenty of time, but I’ll feel better if we keep it close for now.”
“Done. Everyone at Saint knows how to keep their mouths shut.” We signed NDAs regularly and all of us had been used to keeping literal top-secret information compartmentalized and away from prying eyes and ears. No one would learn of her pseudonym from one of us.
We finished dinner and she insisted on helping with dishes. Fortunately, there weren’t many, so we loaded the dishwasher, and soon, she was stifling a yawn, and I was steering her to the guest room.
“You take a shower and I’ll get the bed fixed up so it’s ready when you’re done.” I eyed the mattress and bedframe.
“Okay. We could also…” She swallowed and tucked her hair behind her ears. “We could just not worry about the guest bed.”
Scientifically, the idea that my heart slowly thud-thud-thudded to a stop in that moment was entirely inaccurate. If anything, it took off at a sprint. Medically, if your heart stops, you have died. And I didn’t die. I kept on living in a moment where Jo Malcom, a woman who was endlessly beautiful and thoughtful and tender, had just suggested we share a bed.
We’d done it last night, so this shouldn’t have felt so earth-stilling as it did now. Alas. Last night had felt like an acute situation, and even though we were only standing here in my guest bedroom because this situation was exactly that—another highly unexpected scenario brought on by actual danger to her—it was also different.
“Or, no, I just mean, I don’t want you to stress about this. I can help you. I?—”
I stalked to her, and her words cut off as I cupped her face. “Don’t backtrack. Don’t try to take away those words when they are suggesting something good.”
She blinked rapidly a few times, a thousand thoughts hiding in her eyes. “But?”
Her perception was excellent—she would’ve been a great operator in that regard. “But I don’t think that’s wise tonight.”
She nodded slowly, mulling over my words. “Can I ask why?”
“Of course you can.” I waited.
She rolled her eyes and shoved at my chest with a laugh. “Why?”
I let my hands slip down from her face to the slope of her neck where it curved into her shoulders. A devil on my shoulder pushed at me to tell her exactly why not, but the angel said to emphasize the situation.
“This is a stressful time full of unknowns. I don’t think it’s fair to make any decisions that would impact our relationship in that context.”
The angel’s answer had her lips spreading into a thin facsimile of a smile. “Right. Yeah.” She turned toward her bag where it sat on the dresser and unzipped it, head ducked.
Seeing her curl into herself and knowing in my gut she’d taken it as a rejection, the devil won out. I crowded her from behind and slipped a hand around her waist to rest at her navel while the other smoothed her hair from her neck. Her head snapped up and caught my eyes in the mirror in front of us.
I dipped my head. My lips coasted along the line of her neck and up to her ear, where I spoke softly, breath brushing against it. “I should also make clear, Josephine, that I very much want to share a bed with you. I want to share everything with you. And because I know how much I want that, it’s better for us to be smart or we’ll ruin this whole taking-it-slow thing.”
She swallowed hard and leaned into me, eyes never leaving mine. “Okay, then. We’ll go slow.”
I pressed a kiss to the shadow behind her ear, then her temple. “Thank you.”
Reluctantly, I left her, savoring the knowledge she wanted closeness with me and knowing in a way I never had before that I wanted to give it to her. And believing more and more that perhaps, I really could. When I said I wanted to share everything with her, I meant it all, and for the first time, instead of instantly sensing doom, there was a pull toward believing maybe it was possible.