With the clothes safely stowed at the bottom of a brown file box, David finagled a few folders on top of it, then closed the lid. With a deep breath, he considered his next moves and then repeated them in his mind.
He was in control, and he would see this through, exactly as he’d planned. No case was perfect. No trial flawless. Realistically, he knew that. Hell, he’d made a damn career out of it. And always—always—he managed to come out on top. Just like he’d do here.
He’d deal with the clothes later.
Pending the wife’s surgery outcome, he’d figure out how he wanted to handle Mack Phillips.
And he’d line up the next target.
Because David had learned the most important lesson early in his career as a young lawyer: when the momentum was building, you didn’t let up off the gas.
You pushed and pushed until you got the verdict you were aiming for.
Chapter 15
Gavin would have preferred to be in the emergency waiting room with the rest of the team, supporting Mack however he could, but the doctors refused to let him go without overnight observation.
They had moved him out of the emergency ward into a regular room, and it had become something of a war room for the team, people coming in groups, two by two, as they got information throughout the evening.
Gavin had caught the frustration of one of the nurses after Arlo had brought burgers in, but the head nurse on duty had addressed the situation with him.
“Give the cops the space to do their work,” she’d admonished before giving Arlo a wink.
That was all it had taken. She’d even given the man he was sharing a room with his own private one down the hall to allow for more space to work. And Arlo had called out and ordered up more burgers for the nurse’s station to smooth over any ruffled feathers.
It wasn’t a conference room at the 86th, but it would have to do.
Which made the quiet moment, with no one in the room except for Sera, a reprieve he hadn’t known he needed.
“How are you holding up?”
She glanced up from writing in a small notebook, a gentle smile on her face. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I’m...” He stopped, realizing he could only give her honesty. “I’m tired.”
“Would I be a traitor to the cause to say same?”
They’d reduced the number of attachments running in and out of his body down to a lone IV, and he used the additional freedom to extend a hand. “Come sit with me.”
She nodded and tucked the notebook in her bag. When she made to sit on the edge of the mattress, he shifted, pulling her closer. “I’d really like to hold you.”
It was a bold ask, one that he wasn’t necessarily entitled to, but when her blue eyes went hazy and slightly unfocused, he realized he’d asked just right.
“I’d really like that, too.”
She slipped out of her shoes—heels he had no idea how she’d managed in all day—before climbing in next to him and stretching out.
“Are you o—”
He had his lips on hers before she could finish the sentence, sheer relief washing through him at having her close. The soft sigh that escaped the back of her throat made him wish for different circumstances. For a different place to see this through to completion.
Because whatever else had happened over the past few weeks, the two of them drawing closer to one another had been the most important.
The heat and desire and overwhelming need he’d felt at the New Year had only grown stronger, with the added dimensions of their journey to parenthood as well as the opportunity to see her passion for her work.
Her deep commitment and belief in what she was doing.
Her determination to seek justice.
And her deep, deep feelings and care for others.
All had touched him, reinforcing that initial attraction with the realities of what made a life with someone.
Of what made two people fall in love.
She was so responsive to him, her kiss as warm and welcoming as the rest of her. And as Gavin lifted his head, laying his forehead against hers, the things he’d only been able to feel up to now suddenly had words.
He loved her.
He loved Sera.
And he wanted to make a life with her.
He was as sure of those things as his next breath, but he wasn’t as positive she felt the same. So he’d give her a bit of space. Give them a few days to get to the other side of this latest eruption of violence and hate, and then he’d tell her. They had her appointment with the ultrasound coming up, and he could already picture drawing her close after and telling her how he felt.
In the meantime, he was going to revel in the moment. And he was going to take these few minutes of peace.
Which made the stirring in his arms and whispered “I’m sorry” a jarring counterpoint to the quiet he floated on.
