“I have to be prepared either way. So do you.”
He bends, picks up a five-gallon can of paint, and dumps some into the pan. Straightening, he saturates the roller and goes to work on another section of the ceiling.
“Look, Kate, I know you’ve already tried and convicted yourself, but those bones are too deteriorated to reveal any meaningful evidence. Coroner’s going to rule cause and manner of death undetermined.”
“What if you’re wrong?” I ask. “What if by some fluke we haven’t conceived, they link Lapp’s death to me? Tomasetti, that could pose a problem for you, especially if we’re living together. It could put you in a precarious position. It could affect your career.”
He stops painting, lowers the roller to his side, and turns to stare at me, his expression perplexed. “You like to keep a guy on his toes, don’t you?”
“Sometimes it just works out that way.” I try to smile, but don’t quite manage. “I think it’s something you need to consider.”
“I’ve considered everything I need to consider.” He sets down the roller and crosses to me. He stops a scant foot away, so close I can feel the heat coming off him, discern the smells of aftershave and sawdust and man. “I’ve worked a lot of cases that hinged on DNA,” he says. “Even if the lab is able to extract DNA from the teeth, all that does is confirm the identity of the victim. They won’t be able to ascertain how or where he died. And there’s no evidence whatsoever that could lead them to you. You’re safe, Kate. It’s over. I promise.”
We stand frozen for the span of several heartbeats. Not touching. Barely breathing. The magnitude of what’s been said shaking the air between us.
“I know this isn’t an ideal set of circumstances. I mean, for us.” His voice is low and thick. “I don’t know where this will lead. But I love you, Kate. I want you in my life. I don’t know what else to say.”
I know this is one of those life-altering slices of time. A moment that will take me down a certain road. There’s no way for me to know if it’s the right direction or if I’ll slam into some dead end or freefall off a cliff. But everything inside me tells me to take that first step. Sometimes life is about taking chances, about putting yourself out there even when you don’t know what’s going to come back at you. John Tomasetti is a chance I want to take.
“No one’s ever said that to me before,” I tell him.
“So we’re breaking new ground.”
“In a lot of different ways.”
“I hope that’s okay.”
“Better than okay.”
Raising up on my tiptoes, I brush my mouth across his. “I don’t think you’re going to get much painting done tonight.”
“It’ll keep until morning,” he whispers.