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She hesitated, then gave a nod, walking over to curl up where he’d been sitting. He forced himself to turn away from her, imagining her curled up like that in his lap.
There would be no watching done if that happened.
He had to concentrate on this case. And then he would be calling on Gabriella Farnsworth afterward.
“Everyone Solomon knows on the street is keeping an eye,” Gabriella told him. “I don’t think he’ll get by them.”
“What’s Solomon’s role in this?” James had sensed the big Trinidadian was more than he appeared, and he’d like to know what he was dealing with.
“He’s Mr. Rodney’s nephew, and he helps his community. He’s a main part of the Calypso Club, and he’s who everyone turns to if they need help. Like an unofficial mayor of the area, I suppose.”
That could be true. But there was something in Solomon’s eyes when he’d studied James in the hospital that said he was more than just a pillar of his community.
“He has a girlfriend?” James recalled the woman who’d come out of the house to greet Solomon when they’d dropped him off.
“Catherine.”
There was a warmth in Gabriella’s voice as she said the name.
“A friend of yours?”
“I don’t know her well enough to call her my friend, but I like her.”
He turned from the tiny sink, wiping his hands on a tea towel and then hanging it to dry from a little rail on the side of the cupboard. “All done.”
She uncurled, the movement as graceful and delicate as a cat, and stood. “You should go home, James. You don’t look well.”
He didn’t want to go home, and he didn’t actually know how he would get there easily, given the way he was feeling. He was suddenly exhausted, as lightheaded as he’d been when he’d climbed the stairs.
“Let me watch just a little longer,” he said. It was hard to get the words out properly. “He’s more likely to try something now that it’s dark.”
She acquiesced with a twist of her lips and a flourish of her hand toward the window, her gaze solemn. “I’ll make some more tea.”
He settled back onto the seat, liking the feel of the warmth she’d left behind, and the faint scent of her on the cushion.
He heard her moving around, but he closed his eyes, just for a moment, and sank in a deep, dark hole.
chapterthirty
Gabriella wokein an instant at the faint sound outside her door.
She had slept lightly all night, aware of James just beyond the screen that shielded her bed, but this sound was from outside.
She strained her ears, trying to work out what it was she had heard, exactly.
From within the room she could hear James breathing. She had covered him with a blanket, wincing at the uncomfortable way he lay on the window bench, and had eventually gone to bed herself.
She had lain awake for a while, thinking about how they’d slept together on the smelly pile of canvas sheets in the garage—not with nostalgia, exactly—but it had been nice, lying in his arms.
There was a strange link between them, now—an intimacy that was forged out of necessity—but she knew it was more than just their forced proximity that bound them. He looked at her as if he wanted her more than he wanted to breathe. Even if his body language said he had to stay away.
She shivered at the thought. She had turned to let him know dinner was ready, and caught him staring at her.
She had wanted to forget dinner, walk over, and touch her lips to his, but there was a tightness to the way he held himself. He was careful not to touch her.
She assumed it was because she was a witness in his case, and it would have professional repercussions for him if they got involved.
That was fine with her. She could wait.