“So I’ve been told.” She slid into the passenger seat as he opened the door for her, the leather creaking beneath her weight. “But admit it, you like that about me.”
He didn’t answer, just closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. Because yes, he did like that about her. He liked too many things about her, and that was becoming a problem.
The engine rumbled to life, and Elliot backed out of the parking space, the familiar motions giving his hands something to do while his mind raced. The drive to Rue’s hotel wouldn’t take long—fifteen minutes at most through late-night Manhattan traffic. Fifteen minutes to get his head straight before saying goodnight and heading back to his empty apartment to finish packing for Antarctica.
“So,” Rue said as they pulled out onto the street, “was it a good birthday, all things considered?”
Elliot thought about it, about the surprise on the seventh floor, his family gathered together, the momentary peace before Cade arrived, and the fault lines reappeared. “Yeah,” he said finally. “It was good. Thank you for being part of it.”
“I didn’t do much. Just helped your mom with the cake and kept you distracted.”
“Still.” He glanced at her, the streetlights casting alternating patterns of light and shadow across her face. “It meant a lot that you were there.”
Something softened in her expression, a vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see. “Well,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, “I wanted to be there.”
The simple honesty in her words hit him harder than any of her usual teasing. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, forcing his eyes back to the road.
They drove in comfortable silence for a few blocks, the city lights blurring past the windows. Rue shifted in her seat, angling her body toward him.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, breaking the quiet.
“Depends on what it is.”
“What did you wish for? When you blew out the candles?”
Elliot felt his mouth quirk. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“That’s just superstition,” she scoffed. “Besides, I’m curious.”
“I’m shocked,” he deadpanned. “Rue Bristow, curious about something that’s none of her business.”
She laughed, the sound warm and bright in the confined space of the car. “Come on, El. Just tell me.”
He glanced at her again, taking in the way her eyes caught the passing lights, how her honey-gold hair fell across her shoulders. She looked softer somehow, outside the glittering penthouse party and away from his family’s drama. More real.
She’d kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her on the passenger seat, making herself at home in his carefullymaintained car without a second thought. That was so Rue—claiming spaces as her own, comfortable anywhere.
He envied that.
The traffic light ahead turned red, and he eased to a stop. In the sudden stillness, he felt her gaze on him.
“So…?”
“I wished for my family to be whole again,” he said, the admission more vulnerable than he’d intended. He stared at the red light, waiting for it to change, suddenly regretting his honesty.
“That’s a good wish,” Rue said softly. Her hand moved to rest lightly on his forearm, the touch warm through his shirt sleeve. “Think it’ll come true?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” The light changed, and Elliot guided the car forward, using the movement as an excuse to pull his arm away. “Davey and Cade... what happened between them runs deep. It’s not just about the job anymore.”
“What is it about?”
“Trust,” he said finally. “Davey had to make an impossible choice, and Cade felt betrayed by it. Now neither of them knows how to back down without losing face.”
“Ah.” Rue nodded, like that explained everything. “Male pride. The deadliest force in the universe.”
Despite everything, Elliot found himself smiling. “You say that like women don’t have pride.”
“Oh, we do. But we’re smarter about it. We hold grudges quietly and get revenge through strategic social warfare.” She grinned wickedly. “Much more civilized.”
