Page 12 of Sigh of Relief

Archer cautiously laid a hand on Elton’s shoulder, nothing that would draw attention, careful not to trigger Elton’s anxiety from earlier. When Elton leaned into the touch instead, Archer extended his arm, running his hand back and forth across his broad upper back, offering comfort and commiseration. He didn’t startle or pull away. Instead, he laid a big, warm hand on Archer’s thigh under the countertop and squeezed it, almost desperately.

Archer lowered his hand to cover Elton’s, their fingers tangling. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll keep you busy this week.”

Elton glided his other hand over his head once more, down to his neck and leaving it there, before he angled his face toward Archer.

And stared at him.

The scrutiny wasn’t uncomfortable. Archer was used to being watched, was familiar with the intimacy of a stare and all it could give away. And he wanted to give Elton everything right then, whatever he needed in that moment when the rest of his world was spiraling.

Archer recognized the instant the mood shifted, when Elton had decided what he wanted to take, his lips parting and the dark brown of his eyes going molten.

Archer’s heart skipped, then pounded harder.

Elton’s voice was several delicious octaves lower when he spoke. “Let’s get⁠—”

A shrill ringtone pierced through Elton’s words, through the moment Archer had been waiting fifteen fucking years for.

“Fuck,” Elton cursed, seeming to share the frustrated sentiment. He straightened and dug his phone out of his pocket. He clicked to decline the call, but then the screen filled with texts, and the wrinkles in Elton’s forehead deepened, the corners of his mouth dipping again, concern etching itself on his handsome face.

The phone rang again.

“I have to take this.”

“Of course,” Archer said. “Go.”

He nodded, then slipped off the stool, phone to his ear. “Talley, one second, let me get somewhere quiet.” He hustled past the end of the counter and into the emergency exit door alcove. His muscles tightened more with each passing second, his hand gliding at a faster clip over his head until it came to rest at the back of his neck again, his head bowed. Combined with that slew of texts, Archer could surmise the news wasn’t good.

He signaled a server over. “Can we get this boxed up?”

As the plates were being cleared, Jake slid in beside him. “Good leave early or bad leave early?”

Archer’s gaze drifted toward where Elton was still on the phone, looking more tense by the second.

“Damn,” Jake said, coming to the same conclusion as he corked the wine. “He’s hot as fuck.”

“No shit,” Archer said. “But I don’t think that’s what’s important now.” Elton was headed back in their direction, and he looked exhausted already. “Can we get him a coffee to go?”

“You got it,” Jake said. “And you already have my number, if you ever want to use it.” He parted with a grin and shook hands cordially with Elton as they passed mid-counter.

“You have to go,” Archer said once Elton reached him.

“First EOs dropped.”

“Not pretty?”

Anguish, torture, anger, more emotions than Archer couldn’t read, all raced across Elton’s face. But the final one that settled there—helplessness—was clearly not one Elton was comfortable with, the big man shifting on his feet and coasting his hand over his head again. “I’ll be lucky to have a job before the week’s over.”

Archer covered his other hand white-knuckling the counter. “Whether you do or you don’t, come back here . . .” To me. “Whenever you need to breathe.”

Chapter Eight

“We’re unassailable?” Elton asked the line of attorneys across the table from him.

They were an impressive bunch, all still in their suits at half past midnight: Northern California’s top prosecutor, US Attorney Dominic Price; one of San Francisco’s best defense attorneys, Helena Madigan; her legal mentor and the city’s other best defense attorney, Oakland Ashe; and Talley, the FBI SAC whose patio they’d crashed several hours ago.

On Elton’s not-an-attorney side of the table were Nic’s husband, ASAC Cameron Byrne, San Francisco Chief of Police Maya Thompson, and former SAC Melissa Cruz, Aidan’s sister-in-law and the most well-connected and deadliest woman Elton had ever met. Even more so than Helena, whose after-hours job involved doing murdery things as the queen of her family’s murder-for-hire empire.

“Nothing’s completely unassailable,” Oak said. “Not with this admin.”