His expression softened, but his eyes stayed serious. "My house."
The overhead lights hummed.
I touched the tag with one finger.
"You've already got one for emergencies," he said. "This one's not for emergencies."
My pulse moved up into my throat.
Dex pushed away from the counter and came closer, stopping in front of me with the counter between us. "You've been going back and forth for five months between Crystal's apartment, my house, and here. You keep half your clothes in three places, and you keep acting like you're visiting everywhere."
"I'm very popular with laundry baskets."
"You've built a loyal following." His thumb brushed the cardboard edge. "Move in with me, Jade."
The words stopped my hand.
The key sat between us, brass and ordinary and dangerous to my ability to breathe. Dex didn't reach for me. He didn't close his hand over mine or push anything closer. He stood there with snow melting on his coat and let the choice stay where he'd put it.
I checked his hands first. His scraped knuckles were long healed, and his strong fingers hung loose at his sides. I saw no cuffs, no file, and no truck keys hidden from me.
Then I raised my eyes to his face.
"You rehearsed that," I said.
"A little."
"In the truck?"
"At a red light."
"That's dangerously romantic for a man who once offered me vending-machine pretzels."
"I've grown."
"You brought takeout in a paper bag."
"I've grown within reason."
A laugh broke out of me, but it shook at the end.
Dex reached across the counter and took my ink-smudged hand. His thumb moved over the side of my finger, the same place he'd kissed in his bedroom months ago when I'd asked whether what we had was real.
"I want you there because you want to be there," he said. "Crystal's safe now. The shop's opening, and you've got places to sleep, so that's not what I'm asking. I want you in my house because it's better when you're in it."
My eyes burned, which was rude and probably bad for my image as a dangerous professional.
"Dex."
"I want your boots by my bed," he said. "I want your station sketches on the kitchen table. I want you stealing my shirts and pretending you didn't."
"I don't pretend."
"You wore one under your coat today."
"It was lonely."
His smile softened. "I hope you say yes."
