Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(86)

His lopsided grin was clear and open, the relief palpable in it. “Well, that’s convenient, then. I’m askin’

again, Sport. Marry me.”

She nodded.

oOo

She was walking on her own power and well on her way to healing by the time they released her. Only the cast on her arm and the dark red scar on her neck served as lingering reminders. She was feeling antsy already to start running and working out again, but she knew she had some weeks left before she could.

Isaac brought her to his house, where he could take care of her. It was a permanent move. He’d been able to pack all of her belongings—at least all those she had here in town—into the Camaro and drive it over. She was no longer staying in the little pre-fab house. Now she lived in Isaac’s family home.

Work had been a problem to solve. She’d given him the key to her office, and he’d brought all of that over as well and set up an office for her on the second floor of his house. She trusted him not to look at any of it, and there were no classified documents in her files, but it was still a major breach of protocol.

She’d had fires to put out, though; her absence while she was in the hospital had caused alarm, and she couldn’t wait any longer to get things straight.

Getting things straight with the NSA had turned out to be easy—they had not contacted her until two days before her release, so the big guns hadn’t begun yet to worry about secrets getting out. They were only just beginning to think twice about her silence. Rick, on the other hand, her contact for the Hobson project, was about ten seconds away from triggering their failsafe when she’d connected with him. She owed that boy something to calm his nerves.

It was over. Hobson had been brought to justice—the only kind they had still be available to them. It was strange to Lilli to contemplate facing something like a normal life—a home, a partner, a community.

She had no idea whether she’d even be good at it.

She wanted to find out, though.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


Isaac parked at the house and went inside. Everything was quiet, which generally meant that Lilli was working. He hung his kutte up on the hall tree and went into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers, then headed upstairs.

In all the years since he’d moved back after his father died, and until Lilli moved in weeks ago, Isaac could count on his hands the number of times he’d been on the second floor of this house. There were two bedrooms up here, and a tiny bathroom tucked under the eaves. He and his sister had grown up on this floor. For Isaac, whose childhood had few good memories, there’d been nothing for him here. So he’d closed up the rooms and ignored their existence.

But Lilli was here now, and she’d needed a private place to work. He gave her his old room. Except that the bed was stripped to the mattress, it looked the same as it had when he’d lived in it, and Lilli was stung by its austerity. So was he, buffeted about by memory. There hadn’t been much patience in his father for frivolous things, so there were no posters or albums, no models or amusements. Except for books. Books he’d been allowed, though he’d not been allowed to keep them in his room. He’d learned to work on bikes, and to carve, because they were ways to work, and work passed muster with his father. He had not begrudged an enjoyment of work. Or booze—for himself, at least.

Isaac had enjoyed helping Lilli turn this room into something better. He’d done most of the work while she was recovering, but she’d sat up here and managed him. He’d taken out his old furniture and built her a desk and bookcases. She didn’t actually need bookcases for the kind of work she did, but he fancied making a room for her to do whatever she wanted with, and he knew she had a lot of books stored somewhere. He’d painted, too, a color she’d picked from the Pantone book he had in his shop. A kind of sage green.

He didn’t want to do more yet, because she had no idea what her taste even was, and he wanted her to find that on her own. She was nesting for the first time in her life. He found that to be bittersweet. Even he had a home, such as it was. To think that Lilli had not—it made his heart ache. But she was making one with him, and they were turning nasty old memories inside out to do it. Isaac felt a focus and clarity about his life he had not felt before.

He knocked on the locked door. She’d told him more than she should have about what she did, but she kept the door locked while she did it. When she wasn’t working, he was welcome. Normally, he wouldn’t come up here now, but he needed to talk to her.

It took a couple of minutes, and he knew she was closing everything up before she opened the door.

When she did, she was smiling. “Hey. You’re earlier than I thought.”

“Yeah. I want to talk, if you have some time.” He handed her a beer.

“Always for you, love. Let’s go downstairs, though.” She led the way down to the living room, and they sat together on the old-fashioned sofa. Isaac picked up her hand and linked fingers with her.

The cast on her hand had come off the previous week, and she was almost back to 100%, two months after the confrontation with Ray. She’d started running again about a month ago, which had driven Dr.

Ingleton into paroxysms, but she’d done okay. Isaac had been surprised she’d waited that long. But the blood loss had taken a lasting toll on her, and she was frustrated even now at how long it was taking to get her strength really back. She’d come back from her run this morning simultaneously excited and frustrated that she’d hit five miles for the first time since.