Page 53 of The Couple’s Secret (Detective Josie Quinn #23)

Forty-Nine

The heat coming from Noah’s body was deliciously warm as he crowded into one of the second-floor stationhouse bathrooms with her.

She was mostly dry but her clothes were uncomfortably stiff and chafing.

The thought of looking in a mirror right now made her want to retch.

When she turned to face her husband, his smile was half amused and half appreciative.

Josie put her hands on her hips. “What? Don’t tell me this whole drowned rat aesthetic I’m rocking turns you on. ’Cause there might be something seriously wrong with you.”

He laughed and rummaged through the tote bag he’d brought from home, coming up with one of her bras and a pair of her panties. “It’s not that.”

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor. His eyes roamed unapologetically over her bare skin.

“Oh,” Josie said as her hands reached back for the clasp of her bra. “You knew you’d get to see me naked.”

“Well, I never don’t want to see you naked.” He shrugged and handed her the clean bra. “It’s just that I love it when you go all badass. It’s hot.”

Josie kicked off her boots, laughing softly, her eyes rolling. “You know I’m a sure thing, right? I’m going home with you tonight. You don’t have to woo me.”

He held out an arm for her to hold for balance as she peeled off her socks. “I’ll never stop wooing you, Josie.”

The serious note in his voice almost made her forget they were at work.

Having a husband who could melt her heart and her panties was addictive in the best way.

Except for when all the melting distracted her from the fact that he’d been avoiding having the discussion he’d promised her about seeing a therapist. It also didn’t help that he looked so damn good.

“Noah,” she said tentatively, knowing this wasn’t the best time or the place for a personal conversation. “You promised you’d think about?—”

“I will,” he said quickly, cutting her off. “Not the guy the Chief sent me to, someone else, but I’ll do it.”

They stood frozen for a long moment, staring at one another. She could see the struggle in the way his hazel eyes darkened.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t,” he admitted.

“You’ve dealt with trauma since you were a kid.

I’ve been dealing with it for nine months.

I can man up and get help. Plus, we’ve got Wren now.

I know this isn’t how either of us expected to become parents.

Well, guardians. But I want to do it right.

To get better so I can be whatever she needs. Whatever both of you need.”

Emotion was thick and hot in Josie’s throat, but she didn’t have time for it now because as soon as she changed into clean, dry clothes, she had to walk out the door and do her job. She went for flirty instead. “Well, you are going to get very lucky later.”

The full-wattage grin he gave her turned her knees to jelly, tempering the mushy feelings threatening to unfurl inside her.

“Better give me an update before you’re naked, too,” she muttered, shimmying out of her pants. “Any word on Zane?”

“Still in surgery,” Noah said, handing her clean panties as he went back to shamelessly ogling her.

“But the doctors expect he’ll pull through.

The prognosis is positive considering the injuries.

He’ll need a lot of physical therapy but hopefully he’ll regain full function in his lower limbs. Hollis is with him.”

Josie slid them on and then took the tote from him, digging through the contents. Thank God he’d brought her brush. Hopefully she’d be able to drag it through her tangled hair. “Has Jackson asked for an attorney?”

“No.”

Why would he? Suicide attempt aside, he must have known that they had absolutely zero evidence to prove that he’d been involved in the murders of Tobias and Cora or that he’d killed Riley.

As if sensing her thoughts, Noah said, “How are you going to get to him?”

Josie slid into the pair of jeans he’d brought her.

She’d been thinking about that very question since Jackson was taken into custody.

They were in the same position they’d been in when Hollis was their prime suspect.

Jackson had had motive and opportunity. Slotting him into the puzzle, the pieces fit but they had no way to prove it.

She needed a confession and she was going to get one, whether it was from him or his co-conspirator.

“Did Bruce Olsen come in?” she asked.

“Yeah, he’s in interview room two.”

“Attorney?”

“Nope.”

“Well,” she smiled, yanking her new shirt down over her head, “it’s my lucky day.”