Chapter 7 #2
But Carson didn’t seem offended. He just flipped the first sandwich in the pan and said, “Part of it. Mostly it’s because I work too much and I’m not great at letting people in.”
“Why not?”
“Because people leave. People disappear. People die.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “My sister vanished. My dad got killed. Captain Holloway is the closest thing to family I have, and he’s my boss. Easier to keep things professional. To not get attached.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It is.” He plated the first sandwich and started on the second. “But it’s safer. Can’t lose people if you don’t let them close.”
Nora understood that logic. Had lived by it herself for years. Don’t trust. Don’t hope. Don’t let anyone matter.
But standing in Carson’s kitchen, watching him make her lunch, feeling the way her pulse jumped every time he looked at her… She was starting to think maybe lonely wasn’t the same as safe.
Maybe safe was just another word for empty.
“What about you?” Carson asked, pulling her from her thoughts. “Your friend Lila keeps calling. You keep not answering.”
“She wouldn’t understand. She’d just tell me I’m being paranoid again.” Nora accepted the plate he handed her. “It’s easier to deal with this alone.”
“You’re not alone.” Carson met her eyes. “You have me.”
The words shouldn’t have affected her so much. But they did. Because no one had said that to her in years. No one had offered to be there, to stay, to not leave.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
They ate at the small kitchen table, shoulders almost touching in the cramped space. Conversation drifted to safer topics—favorite movies, worst first dates, the best coffee in Blackridge.
Normal things. Human things. The kind of conversation that made Nora forget, for a few minutes, that she was hiding from a stalker.
That made her remember Carson wasn’t just a detective. He was a person. A man. Someone with a quick, dry sense of humor and opinions about whether Die Hard was a Christmas movie and a slight obsession with his ancient coffeemaker.
Someone she was starting to care about in ways that had nothing to do with him protecting her.
“I should get back to work,” Carson said finally, standing to clear their plates.
Nora stood too, grabbing her plate before he could. “I’ll do dishes. You’ve done enough.”
“Nora—”
“Let me help. Please. I need to feel useful.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.”
They worked side by side at the sink—Nora washing, Carson drying. The domestic simplicity of it felt surreal. Like they were a couple doing normal couple things.
Except they weren’t a couple. She was a victim. He was a detective. This was temporary. Circumstantial.
Even if it felt like something more.
Carson’s phone buzzed. He dried his hands and checked it, his expression darkening.
“What?” Nora asked, dread pooling in her stomach.
“Judge denied the search warrant. Said there’s still not enough probable cause.” He set the phone down harder than necessary. “Eugene’s lawyer is good. He’s blocking every move I make.”
“So what do we do?”
“I keep digging. Keep building the case. Keep you safe until I have enough evidence that no judge can deny it.” Carson’s jaw clenched. “Even if it takes weeks.”
Weeks. Of hiding here. Of living in Carson’s space. Of this growing tension between them.
Nora wasn’t sure if the prospect terrified her or thrilled her.
***
That evening, Carson ordered pizza and they ate on the couch, watching an action movie neither of them could focus on.
Nora kept sneaking glances at him. The way his jaw worked when he was thinking. The way his eyes tracked every movement in the movie like he was analyzing it. The way he’d unconsciously moved closer on the couch until their shoulders almost touched.
“You’re staring,” Carson said without looking away from the TV.
Heat flooded Nora’s face. “Sorry. I was just...thinking.”
“About?”
About how safe I feel here. About how you make me feel seen and believed and protected. About how I’m starting to want things I shouldn’t want.
“About what happens after,” Nora said instead. “When you catch Eugene. When this is over.”
“You go back to your life. Your apartment. Your work. Everything goes back to normal.”
“Does it?” She turned to face him. “Because I don’t think my life will ever feel normal again. Not after this.”
Carson finally looked at her, and the intensity in his eyes stole her breath. “You’ll heal. You’ll move forward. You’re stronger than you think.”
“And what about you? Do you just move on to the next case? The next victim to save?”
“That’s my job.”
“Is that all this is to you? Just another job?”
She shouldn’t have asked. Shouldn’t have pushed. She already knew the answer. But the need to know—to understand what this connection between them meant—overpowered her sense of self-preservation.
Carson’s expression shifted, something raw and unguarded flickering across his face before he locked it down. “Nora—”
“Never mind.” She stood abruptly. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m going to... I need to call Lila back. Let her know I’m okay.”
She fled to the guest room before he could respond, closing the door and leaning against it.
Stupid. That was so stupid.
She’d just made everything awkward. Had revealed too much. Had shown her hand when she should have kept things professional.
But as she sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, all she could think about was the look in Carson’s eyes before he’d shut down.
Like he’d wanted to answer. Like he’d wanted to tell her this was more than just a job.
Like he felt it too.
Nora took a shaky breath and dialed Lila’s number.
Her best friend answered on the first ring. “Nora! Oh my God, where have you been? I’ve been so worried—”
“I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”
“Where are you? What’s going on?”
Nora closed her eyes. “I can’t tell you where I am. But I’m with... I’m somewhere safe. The detective is helping me. He’s keeping me protected until they catch the person who’s been stalking me.”
“Stalking you.” Lila’s voice was tight. “You really think—”
“I know. I know it’s real, Lila. They broke into my apartment. Left a message on my wall. This isn’t in my head.”
Silence. Then, “Oh God. Nora, I’m so sorry. I should have believed you. I should have—”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“Are you really safe? Is this detective taking care of you?”
Nora thought about Carson. About the fierce protectiveness in his voice. About the way he’d held her gaze and promised to catch Eugene. About the grilled cheese and the quiet companionship and the way he made her feel less alone.
“Yes,” she said softly. “He’s taking care of me.”
They talked for a few more minutes—Lila apologizing, Nora reassuring her—before Nora ended the call.
She sat in the quiet guest room, listening to the muffled sound of the TV in the other room, trying to figure out what she was feeling.
Fear, yes. But also something else. Something warm and dangerous and utterly inappropriate given the circumstances.
She was falling for Carson Black.
The detective who was protecting her. The man who’d believed her when no one else would. The person who made her feel safe and seen and worth fighting for.
And she had no idea if he felt the same way.
Or if this was just another case to him.
A soft knock on her door made her jump.
“Nora?” Carson’s voice, quiet through the door. “Can I come in?”
She opened the door. Carson stood in the hallway, looking uncertain in a way she’d never seen before.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For earlier. You asked a fair question and I...I didn’t handle it well.”
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
“No, you should have.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Because you deserve honesty. And the honest answer is no. This isn’t just another job to me. You’re not just another victim.”
Nora’s breath caught. “I’m not?”
“No.” His voice was rough. Raw. “You’re.
..more. And that scares the hell out of me.
Because I don’t do this. I don’t get attached.
I don’t let people in. But somehow you..
.” He trailed off, looking frustrated with himself.
“I can’t give you more than that right now.
Not while you’re in danger. Not while I’m supposed to be protecting you. ”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Nora stepped closer, her heart hammering. “Because I feel it too. This...whatever this is between us. And it scares me too. But I’m tired of being scared. Tired of not trusting my instincts. And my instincts say you’re someone worth trusting.”
They stood inches apart, the air between them electric. Carson’s eyes dropped to her mouth, then back up.
“We should keep things professional,” he said, but he didn’t move away.
“We should,” Nora agreed.
Neither of them moved.
“When this is over,” Carson said finally. “When you’re safe and Eugene is behind bars and there’s no conflict of interest...ask me again. Ask me if this is just a job.”
“And what will you say?”
His hand came up, hovering near her face but not quite touching. “Ask me and find out.”
Then he stepped back, breaking the spell. “Get some rest. Big day tomorrow. Finn’s bringing over more files for us to review.”
He left before she could respond.
Nora closed the door and leaned against it, pulse racing, skin still tingling from his almost-touch.
When this is over.
She had something to look forward to now. A promise of possibility.
If they could just survive long enough to reach it.