Page 75 of Devoured By the Forbidden Mountain Man

Beside me, Georgia gave a wet laugh.

“She would.”

Gavin’s gaze moved between us and lingered for a beat on Georgia beside me. His mouth shifted, but he kept whatever he was thinking to himself.

The officers led him toward the front. Georgia watched until the restaurant door closed behind him, and only then did her shoulders lose their rigid line.

I moved closer without asking her to explain anything. She turned into me and put both arms around my waist, pressing her face against my chest while I held her.

***

It was close to ten-thirty before we left.

Meredith’s husband arrived while the party was still in full swing. He crossed the room scanning faces until Georgia quietly pointed him toward the back office, and he went straight to it. The attorney Meredith contacted joined the next portion of her statement remotely until in-person arrangements could be made. The officers handling the follow-up had what they needed from me. Gavin’s old North Fork file would be provided through the proper channels, and the new confession would have to be reviewed by people with far more authority over the homicide case than I had ever possessed.

The party had kept moving without us.

When we came back into the main room, she stood near the service station and watched the system she had built continue to work. The late crowd had taken over most of the bar while the dining room slowly thinned. A witch without her hat carried two empty glasses toward the bar. Someone dressed as a scarecrow danced badly near the jukebox. The black-and-gold decorations Georgia had spent the morning adjusting still hung where they belonged, and servers moved through the open lane without colliding with anyone.

The owner was managing his staff instead of searching for Georgia every thirty seconds.

Case was behind the bar, gold shirt flashing beneath the lights as he poured drinks and redirected a man in a werewolf mask who had apparently mistaken the service station for guest seating. Georgia’s gaze moved from the service station to the bar and back again.

Nothing was falling apart because she stopped holding it.

Case noticed us and came around the end of the bar as soon as another bartender took his place. For once, he did not greet either of us with a joke.

He looked at Georgia first. “Are you okay enough to go home?”

The wording was careful.

Georgia looked around the room again before answering. “I think so. I keep feeling like I should stay until closing.”

Case followed the direction of her gaze. “Why?”

“The party is still running.”

“Yes. That is what successful parties do after the person who organized them stops touching every surface.”

Georgia’s mouth twitched.

Case stepped closer and lowered his voice so the guests nearest the bar would not hear. “The owner has the floor. The kitchen has the food plan. The bar has me, which should honestly reassure you more than it probably does.”

“It reassures me exactly as much as your last sentence deserves.”

“That is enough.” He took both her hands, and whatever humor had surfaced disappeared into something warmer. “Go home, Georgia.”

She looked down at their joined hands.

Case squeezed once. “You spent the entire week fixing things so they would work without you standing in the middle of them. Let this one work.”

Georgia lifted her eyes and held Case’s gaze for several seconds. Then her shoulders eased. “All right.”

Case hugged her hard.

Georgia tucked her face into his shoulder and held on for several seconds. When they separated, Case kissed her cheek and brushed carefully near one eye without disturbing what remained of her makeup.

“You still look annoyingly good for someone who just detonated a seven-year-old criminal case while dressed as the Queen of Hearts.”