“I love that you have such faith in me, but this guy loves tricks and games, and we still don’t know who he is, therefore we don’t know how he could get to you. He could be anyone.” Matthew had been by earlier to update them on the case, and learning that the two suspects they’d had were now both categorically cleared was not the news he had been hoping for. He had hoped that the blood on Rylla’s clothes from her scuffle with the killer would tell them exactly who the killer was.
“If I let him run me out of my own home then he wins,” Rylla said.
“If you stay here and let him abduct and kill you then he wins,” he contradicted. “Rylla, please, I'm begging you, I couldn’t take it if something happened to you. I know you don’t want to but I'm asking you to do this for me.”
She sighed, and he knew she was going to agree even before she said the words. “Way to play hardball, Nate.”
“I'm playing the hardest ball I can because anything less might not keep you alive.”
“Just where am I supposed to stay? Your house?”
He would love to take Rylla home with him, but he had a safer place in mind. “Actually, I was thinking of the cabin that Naomi owns. The killer would have no way to know about that place, and if he’s still watching your house and tries to follow you then we’d spot him.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“I don’t like this.” She pouted making her look seriously adorable.
“I know you don’t.”
“I don’t want to do this, it feels like running away, and if he’s intent on getting me he’s not going to stop no matter where I am.”
“You do what you have to do to keep yourself safe. There is no shame in running away.” And he meant either now or when she’d run as a teenager.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Nate felt himself relax as relief flowed through him. “Good.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Are you coming with me?”
“Do you really have to ask that?”
She smiled. “No. Thanks for staying with me these last few days.”
Five days. They had spent the last five days together. He hadn’t left here since Rylla had learned that her sister had been abducted. Already he felt like they were an old married couple, he felt so comfortable with her. “You know there’s no place I'd rather be.”
“Me too,” she said, then yawned. She was tired, between the nightmares and then their lovemaking she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and she was injured, her body needed rest to heal.
“Bed time,” he announced.
“It’s not even nine yet,” she protested.
“You're tired and you need sleep.” Nate lifted her legs and stood, set the bag of ice down on the table, and carefully gathered Rylla into his arms so she didn't have to hobble up the stairs. And because he couldn’t get enough of holding her. When this was over, and the killer was caught—or dead—he didn't want to go. He liked seeing her every day, he wanted to go to bed each night with her at his side, and wake up each morning with her in his arms. Was it too soon to move in together? They might have known each other for six years but they had only really been together as a couple a day or two.
“No.”
Confused, he looked down at her head resting on his shoulder. “No, what?”
“It’s not too soon for us to move in together.”
“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”
“Because I was thinking the same thing.”