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“My security guys haven’t finished your apartment yet, so we’ll stay at minetonight, okay?”
The concern in his eyes has me agreeing easily. I don’t want him stressing over this. It’s a step further than I was expecting. I’ve never had a vehicle vandalized before. But it means we’re getting closer to identifying the other man who assaulted Chelsea. Whoever it is has gotten worried. And that only makes me more determined to keep digging.
“Yeah, of course. I’m so sorry about the car.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s replaceable. You and the babies aren’t.” He fixes me with an intense look before dusting his lips over mine and lowering his voice so only I can hear. “I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” I say against his lips, pressing a soft kiss there.
Henry clears his throat behind me, and I turn to him over my shoulder.
“Thank you for your help when I called to report it.”
“Anytime,” he replies, hovering like he wants something else.
Drew’s arms stiffen around me, but he says nothing as the two men make eye contact over the top of my head.
“Can I have a word, son?”
I glance up at Drew’s clenched jaw and slide my arms from around his waist. “I’ll wait over there.” I motion toward the main entrance doors.
He looks down at me and his face softens. “I’ll be quick.”
“It’s fine, take your time.”
I pull out my phone to text Halliday, updating her about the car. Then I drop my phone back into my purse and glance over to where Henry and Drew are talking in hushed voices. Henry’s eyes meet mine and then he looks away when Drew says something and shakes his head.
A few seconds later, Drew storms over, his jaw set in a tight line.
“Let’s go.”
He wraps an arm around me and leads me out into the car park.
My stomach sinks as he unlocks his pristine metallic blue Range Rover. I’m about to apologize again about ruining mine, even though it isn’t my fault. But something about the darkened glaze that’s descended in his eyes tells me that now isn’t the time.
We drive back to his house in relative silence.
“Go get a shower,” he says as he tosses his keys down on the entryway table as he walks into the house behind me. “I’ll order us takeout, it’s late.”
Before I can respond, he walks off toward the kitchen. I let him go. I understand the need for personal space, even if it stings that what he wants is space from me right now.
I’ve been in Drew’s giant shower for ten minutes, enjoying the way the warm spray is easing the tightness in my lower back, when the bathroom door opens and he walks in, still dressed in his deep gray work suit and blue tie.
I don’t need to ask him if something’s wrong. It’s written in the tautness of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, the creasing of his brow.
I turn the water off and open the door, stepping out with a cloud of steam. I take the towel he holds out to me wordlessly and begin to dry myself.
“Sophie.” His soft voice is heavy with something. And when he sighs, it makes my heart ache.
He steps toward me and takes the towel from my hands, drying me in slow, gentle strokes. A frown mars his handsome face as he works his way down my body until he’s sliding the towel over my bump.
“He’s right.” His jaw clenches. “I let you down.”
“What?” I blink as I look at him, but his eyes are following the towel as he continues stroking it over my stomach.
“My father.” His eyes pinch as he says the word. “He wanted me to talk you into giving up the case. He said I needed to convince you to think about the babies.”
“He has no right—”
