Chapter 5 - The Chaos at Home
As the police cars and federal vans hauled Marcus and his men away, Jonah turned his chair around to face his SUV.
The door burst open, and Riley came running across the wet concrete, her canvas tote bag bouncing against her hip, her hair flying wildly in the sea breeze.
She slid onto her knees right in front of his wheelchair, grabbing his hands frantically, her eyes searching his face, his chest, his arms.
"Are you okay?!" she cried out, her voice frantic and breathless. "Did you get shot?! Are you bleeding?!"
Jonah stared down at her. The adrenaline from the sting operation was still pumping through his veins, but looking at her tear-filled eyes, everything else faded away.
"I'm fine, Riley," he whispered, lifting his right hand—his strong, steady hand—and cupping her cheek softly. "I'm completely fine."
Riley leaned into his warm palm, a sob escaping her throat. "You idiot! You absolute, terrifying idiot! You could have been killed!"
"I had the FBI on speed dial, Ms. Quinn," Jonah smiled softly, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I told you I had a plan."
"I don't care!" she sobbed, grabbing his coat lapels and pulling herself up until her nose was inches from his. "Don't you ever do something like that again! Do you know how scared I was?!"
Jonah didn't answer with words.
He leaned forward, wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her.
It was not a gentle, timid kiss. It was deep, fierce, and full of six months of pent-up passion, relief, and desperate love.
Riley gasped against his mouth, her arms instantly wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair as she kissed him back with equal ferocity.
Around them, federal agents were packing up tactical gear, sirens were wailing in the fog, and Frank was standing by the SUV, deliberately looking up at the sky pretending to study the cloud formations.
When Jonah finally pulled back, both of them were breathless.
Riley’s cheeks were flushed bright pink, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "That... that was legally questionable for an employer."
"Fire me then," Jonah murmured, his lips curving into a breathtaking smile against her cheek.
"I can't," Riley whispered, resting her forehead against his. "My car is still broken, and I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Good," Jonah said. "Because you're never leaving."
They returned to the estate late that evening.
With Marcus behind bars and the federal investigation wrapped up, the dark shadow that had loomed over Jonah Mercer’s life was finally, permanently gone.
That night, for the first time in six months, Jonah didn't sit in his dark study drinking scotch.
He sat in the warm, sunlit living room while Riley attempted to bake celebratory chocolate chip cookies.
Naturally, she burned the first batch.
The smoke detector in the kitchen started shrieking at high pitch, setting off the house alarm system. Sprinklers in the kitchen rained down water, soaking Riley from head to toe.
Jonah rolled his chair into the kitchen doorway, watching Riley standing in the middle of a puddle, covered in flour, holding a sheet of black, charred cookie rocks, completely soaked.
She looked at him.
He looked at her.
And then, Jonah Mercer threw his head back and laughed.
It wasn't a quiet chuckle. It was a loud, booming, joyous belly laugh that echoed off the high limestone ceilings, filling every dark corner of the mansion with warmth.
Riley wiped a smudge of flour off her nose, a grin spreading across her face. "It's not that funny, Mercer!"
"It's hysterical," Jonah wheezed, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "You've been here three weeks, and you've destroyed four thousand dollars in glass, set off the fire alarm, soaked my kitchen, and saved my life."
He rolled his chair into the water, stopping right in front of her. He pulled her down onto his lap, oblivious to her wet clothes soaking his shirt.
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"Best money I've ever spent," Jonah whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Riley smiled, resting her wet head on his shoulder. "I'm still charging you overtime for the cookies."
