Chapter 46
As the gate opened and Micah pulled into Refuge Cove, Naomi stared out the window at the familiar driveway.
Coming home didn’t feel like a victory.
Good Boy was still out there. Still with people who’d tied him up outside. People who’d lied and manipulated and chased her through the woods.
And she’d failed to bring the dog back here, back to safety.
Micah parked near the house and cut the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
“You okay?” he murmured.
Naomi shook her head. “No, not really. Why would those men take Good Boy just to tie him up? What sense does it make?”
“Maybe it was to send a message. Maybe they want to use the dog as leverage later.”
“Aren’t there easier ways to send a message?”
“Probably, but using the dog tugged at your heart strings.”
She shook her head and drew in a deep breath before looking up at him. “What happens now?”
“Now I make sure you’re safe. Then I go back to the station and follow up on the leads we have.”
“And Good Boy?”
“I’ll find him.” Micah’s voice was firm. “I promise.”
Naomi wanted to believe him. But the weight in her chest wouldn’t lift.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “For going out there alone. For not waiting for you. For—”
“Don’t.” Micah turned toward her, his expression softer than she expected. “You saw your dog in trouble, and you tried to help him. I get it.”
She desperately wanted to believe his words but couldn’t. “But I made everything worse. Now they know we’re onto them.”
“You’re safe now. That’s the most important thing. And I’m going to find Good Boy.” His eyes held hers. “But next time—and I really hope there’s not a next time—wait for me. Please.”
“I will.”
He studied her face as if making sure she meant the words before nodding. “Come on. Let’s get you inside and get some ice on that ankle.”
Micah climbed out and came around to her side, opening the door and offering his hand. She took it and eased out of his SUV, wincing as her ankle protested.
“Easy.” He steadied her with a hand at her elbow.
They walked toward the house together, moving slowly. The outside light cast long shadows across the yard.
“Micah,” Naomi said as they reached the door.
He paused, looking down at her. “Yes?”
“Thank you. For coming for me. For . . . for everything.”
Something shifted in his expression. “Always.”
The word hung between them, weighted with meaning neither of them was quite ready to name.
That night, Micah pulled up to Refuge Cove just after eight.
He typed in his code and drove through.
Being here felt like coming home.
He immediately shut down that thought, chiding himself for even thinking it.
This wasn’t home. This was a job. A case. A family he was protecting because it was his responsibility.
But as he parked near the house and saw the warm light glowing through the windows, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it. Because this felt personal. He felt connected. And he knew his heart wanted more—though he refused to act on any of those feelings.
He climbed out of his SUV and walked to the side door.
It opened before he could knock.
Naomi stood in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She looked tired, but her eyes brightened when she saw him.
“Hey,” she said. “I heard you pull in.”
He stopped in front of her, suddenly uncertain. “I wanted to check in. See how you’re doing. I know I could have called but . . .”
“I’m okay. Do you want to talk on the porch? Grace is sleeping, and I have the baby monitor with me.” She held up the device.
“Sure.”
She began walking around to the front porch, not limping quite as a badly as she had earlier.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked.
“Better. Still sore, but the swelling’s gone down.”
“Good.”
They climbed the six steps up to the porch. The swing pendulated in the corner, creaking slightly in the breeze. Naomi settled onto it, wrapped the blanket around herself, and patted the space beside her.
Micah hesitated half a second before sitting.
The swing rocked gently under their combined weight.
Naomi offered part of the blanket. “You want to share? It’s big enough.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s cold out here. If you change your mind, the offer stands. Besides, there’s nothing better than a cool October night, a porch swing, and a comfy blanket.”
“Fine. You sold me.” He wasn’t actually cold. But refusing the offer felt wrong somehow.
Plus, the thought of being that close to Naomi . . . it was tempting.
She shifted closer and draped half the blanket over his shoulders. The fabric was soft and warm from her body heat, and it smelled faintly of lavender.
They sat in silence, the swing moving in a slow, steady rhythm.
The night was clear and brisk. The stars overhead were sharp and bright.
“Did you find anything?” Naomi finally asked. “At the station?”
“I’ve got an APB out on the man’s truck, but nothing yet.”
“And Gary Lee Foster?”
His jaw tightened. “He’s like a ghost. We’ve got an address but no employment history or anything else.”
Naomi’s shoulders slumped. “So we’re nowhere.”
“We’re not nowhere—because we’re not giving up.”
She nodded, but he saw the doubt in her eyes.
Micah looked out at the dark yard as the words built in his chest. “Listen, Naomi. I’m sorry if I seemed too protective earlier. I know you can take care of yourself. But when Ruby called and said you weren’t answering your phone—”
He stopped, his next words sticking in his throat.
Naomi turned to look at him. “What?”
Micah exhaled slowly, an ache forming in his chest. He hadn’t come here to share his story. But he felt compelled.
He only hoped he didn’t regret this. “The truth is, I lost someone once. And it happened because I wasn’t there when I should have been. I vowed to never let that happen again, and I don’t intend to fail on that promise.”