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Samson’s eyes flicked up. “Yeah. Worth a look. We’ve got no solid leads.” He met Ethan’s gaze. “Can you keep her safe?”
Ethan’s reply was steel-edged. “No one gets past me or Thor to her.”
Samson nodded once. “She’s given her statement. Clothes are going into evidence. We’re pressed for time on this before it hits the press. You good?”
Ethan lifted his coffee from the desk, courtesy of Bartholomew, and took a sip. His face twisted. “Holy hell.”
Bartholomew grinned. “Now you know why some Nancys take ours with cream and sugar.”
Ethan shoved the cup forward. “That’s … awful.”
With a chuckle, Bartholomew dumped Ethan’s and his own into the trash. “More end up in there than down our throats.”
Moments later, Star emerged from the bathroom, fresh from her shower. Her hair was swept back into a ponytail, and she wore the clothes Ethan had chosen. A bright smile lit her face as she approached and wrapped her arms around him.
“Do I smell better?” she teased.
Ethan’s response was immediate and genuine. “Oh God, yes.”
Star crouched to press a kiss to Thor’s muzzle. The dog’s tail pounded against the floor so hard it threatened to crack the wall. His joy was a physical force.
And for one fleeting moment, everything felt right.
Star straightened up, and Ethan reached for her hand, his other hand deftly snagging the gym bag. “Ready to go?” he asked.
Her reply was soft but certain. “I really am.”
Bartholomew, mid-conversation on his phone, held up a finger, quickly ending the call before striding to a nearby closet. He opened it and pulled out two large shopping bags. “Your stuff,” he said, handing them to Ethan.
Ethan transferred the bags into the one carrying the gym bag, his grip finding Star’s hand once more. “Thanks,” he said, his voice warm with genuine appreciation.
Goodbyes were quick, and soon, the trio was escorted out, their steps echoing as they descended the stairs. Ethan opened the SUV at the parking garage, and Thor wasted no time, planting his head over the seat onto Star’s shoulder.
She leaned back, her fingers threading through the familiar fur, scratching his head with a sigh. “Oh my God. What a day.”
CHAPTER11
There was nothing more comforting to Star than Ethan’s hand in hers and Thor’s head resting beside her. The day had been nothing short of harrowing.
“Do you want to talk about it,” Ethan asked, “or forget it for now?”
Her gaze drifted past the windshield, unfocused on the chaos of traffic. What she saw instead was burned into her memory. “The day started out so well. I had a great meeting—they renewed my contract for another year. And they gave me a raise.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked to her. “That’s fantastic.”
She nodded. “I was so happy. Afterward, I stopped at Whole Foods to pick up everything for the sauce and meal I was planning to make you Saturday. That’s what’s in the shopping bags. Along with two bottles of wine—which, honestly, I might open tonight.” Her voice softened, and she stared out the side window. “I was trying to catch the Q train, so I dodged through a crowd—and my heel caught in the sidewalk. Freak accident.”
Ethan’s lips quirked. “Or a Star accident.”
A small smile tugged at her mouth. “Exactly. I put my bags down and tried to free my heel, which broke. Worse, I landed in … well, you know.”
Ethan reached over, and her fingers slipped into his, the warmth calming her frayed nerves.
“I was so angry,” she admitted. “I ruined my skirt. And my heels—Louboutins. I know, third-hand, but still. Louboutins.” She rolled her eyes, her frustration bubbling.
Ethan glanced at her. “That’s impressive? The loob-a-whatevers?”
She gave a dry laugh. “For nearly every woman alive? Yes.”