When they finally came down, sucking oxygen into their starved lungs, Ryan fell onto his back, pulling him with her so she was tucked into his side. She pillowed her head on his chest, loving the steady thump of his heart under her ear. It was so right, so solid, so safe and warm. She never wanted to move from here, content to live the rest of her life in this bed with this man.
They'd have to order food in, of course.
She was drifting in and out of sleep, Ryan's fingers stroking her skin when she heard it.
The words.
She hadn't known how much she wanted them until she heard them.
"I love you, Mariah."
The sting of tears behind her closed eyelids matched the ache in her chest. Licking her lips, the words fell easily from her tongue. She didn't want him to think for one minute that she didn't feel the same.
"I love you, too."
They would work it all out. It wouldn't be easy, but it would be worth it.
Ryan was worth it.
It was the same old story. Ryan couldn't sleep.
He ought to be sawing logs with Mister Sandman after making love with Mariah, but even amazing sex with the love of his life hadn't managed to put him out. His mind was simply too active, constantly keeping him up when most of the world was out like a light. Luckily, he was used to it and honestly, he didn't need much sleep. He could easily function on three or four hours. While Mariah slumbered peacefully, he'd try to get some work done. There was always a never-ending list of reports to do.
"Some things never change."
He heard her soft voice before he saw her. He was going through the emails on his phone when her bare feet came into his line of sight. His gaze rose to take her all in and his heart tumbled in his chest. How on earth had he lived one single minute without her?
She looked absolutely adorable. All sleepy and mussed. Her long dark hair in a riot around her shoulders with a few stray strands sticking up in the back. Mariah's hair had a tendency to curl and a couple were clinging to her creamy cheeks as if for dear life. Wearing a tank top and striped sleep shorts, she yawned and rubbed at her eyes.
"You're awake again. Do you ever sleep?"
"I sleep. Just not as much as you do."
Mariah loved to sleep. She had always extolled the virtues of eight solid hours of sack time a night. Ryan didn't think he'd slept that much even as a child. It simply wasn't in his DNA.
"I don't know how you do it," she replied, settling down on the couch next to him and cuddling close. She was still warm from being wrapped up in the bedcovers, and he placed his phone on the side table so he could pull her even closer. "I would be a walking zombie if I didn't sleep most of the time."
"I'm used to it. I've actually learned to be glad about it over the years. I can stay up and get work done, if I need to, or read or watch television. It's sometimes nice to be awake when the rest of the world is asleep. It's quiet and peaceful."
She rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you want me to leave you alone then?"
"No," he laughed. "I like having your company. You can sit here with me as long as you like."
"I like your company, too." She paused for a moment, but Ryan could tell that she wasn't finished speaking. She had something to say. "I'm not sorry that we did that."
Ah, they were going to have the talk.
"I'm not sorry either."
Another long pause.
"Did you mean what you said?"
"About what?"
"Maybe moving back here."
She thought he wasn't serious about making compromises. Time to let her know that he really had changed.
"I meant it. I want this to work between the two of us. It's now one of my main priorities."
Her fingertips skittered over his arm. "I don't know that I've ever been a priority to you. This will be interesting."
That was his fault. He hadn't been good at showing her, but then he'd been too young to know what to do. Hopefully, he had a better idea now.
"I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. Truly sorry. I want you to believe that you're important to me, Mariah. I want you to believe that we can make this work."
"I do believe it."
A little bit. But she wasn't completely convinced.
"We both need to see the change in action. We're different now, and we're still going to make some mistakes. At least I am, but I'm willing to acknowledge them and try to do better."
"I want to do better, too," she vowed, sitting up so she could look directly at him. "I think I'd like to come out to where you live and look around a bit. Spend some time there. Maybe...maybe I'll move to you instead of you moving here."
"I think you'd love Seattle, but it's okay if you don't. We'll figure it out. We don't have to make all the decisions tonight."
"Thank goodness, because I'm fuzzy from lack of sleep."
He didn't get a chance to reply. His phone buzzed, pulling him away briefly to check who would be sending him a text at two in the morning.
Logan, of course. He didn't sleep either, plus it was earlier in Seattle. Ryan quickly read through the message, his heart in his throat.
"You just got a strange look on your face," Mariah said. "Can I ask what's going on?"
Ryan didn't answer until he'd read through the message a second time. He needed to be sure that he'd understood it correctly.
"It's a message from my boss Logan. Apparently, someone has confessed to Brad's murder. A guy in state prison. Logan wants me to go talk to him tomorrow." Then Ryan remembered that it was past midnight in Chicago. "I mean today. He's not sure that this person isn't just looking for a few minutes of fame, but we have to check every lead."
"That's good. You may be able to close the case. The Harrington family will be relieved."
This would be closure for them, and for Ryan and his friends as well.
Is that what happened to you, Brad? Were you killed by a stranger?
Morning couldn't come fast enough. Ryan wanted to talk to this person. He wanted to know what happened that night.
22
Ryan was getting dressed in his own apartment the next morning when he heard a banging on the door. He'd just left Mariah less than half an hour ago, popping into his own place to shower and change, so he didn't think it could be her. She'd said something about working in her studio and then later having lunch with Liza.
"Just a minute," he called out as the banging continued. "Jesus, give it a break."
This building had a locked front door. How had someone slipped in?
One look out of the peephole had him chuckling. He should have known.
Knox Owens - one of his coworkers.
For all Ryan knew, the guy had crawled up the side of the building and swung in an open window. He was that crazy.
"You're making a hell of a racket," Ryan said when he opened the door. "A simple knock would have done it."
"Apparently not," Knox said, walking into the apartment, carrying a small suitcase. "I did knock but no one answered. So I knocked louder."