“You’re good television.”
She shook her head, exhausted.
“And now you see why I don’t do this,” she whispered. “Why I don’t let people in. I thought I’d gotten away from all that. The noise. The scrutiny. I’m not doing another relationship under a spotlight.”
He absorbed that.
“I’m not leaving because it gets loud.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
He stepped closer.
“Come here, Ellie.”
This time, she didn’t hesitate.
He wrapped his arms around her.
She folded into him.
The fight drained out of her shoulders.
For the first time all day, she stopped holding herself together.
“You don’t have to do this,” she murmured.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But I’m here.”
After a moment, she pulled back.
“You should go,” she said softly.
“You asking me to?”
A beat.
“…No.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
He walked her to the front door. She opened it, cool evening air spilling into the foyer.
Reid paused on the threshold, one hand braced lightly against the doorframe. For a second, he took her in—hair loosearound her face, barefoot now, all that brittle control finally worn thin.
He leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll see you in court,” he said.
A moment later, he stepped out onto the porch.
Down the Street
Deck sat in his pickup two houses over, engine off, lights dark.
