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“Thank you.”
She ran her fingers up the lapel of his jacket. “Are all your suits like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“It looks like you were poured into it.”
“A good tailor can make all the difference.”
Her lips quirked up in a smile and her eyes fluttered shut. “That’s true.”
“How much did you drink?”
“Two cups.”
“That doesn’t tell me much.”
“Almost a bottle. Not quite.”
“Shit,” he muttered. “Jess…”
“Shut up. I was drinking my feelings.”
That made him pause. “Your feelings? Is something wrong?”
“No…”
Samuel wanted to know, but should he pry?
They’d agreed they were attracted to each other. He knew they were bound to butt heads still. That was inevitable. But what else? Where did they go? What were they to one another?
“Maureen and the whole security team died,” she said in a small voice.
He hugged her closer and kissed the top of her head before he could think better of it.
Of course, Jessica was still upset. She cared deeply. It was one of the things he respected about her. She wasn’t jaded and cold to the plight of others. Every little thing he found out about her was another thing to cherish.
Now if only he could talk her into caring for herself the way she worried about others.
“Did it help?” he asked.
“No. I’m just more sad now. And I feel guilty.”
“That’s natural. Survivor’s guilt.”
“I know,” she said softly. “That doesn’t help.”
“How can I help?” he asked.
“Is it wrong we survived?”
“No. It’s also not our fault. Have you ever been threatened because of a case you were part of?”
“Yes.”
“Did you stop doing your job because of the threat?”
“No.”
