Page 39 of Blind Justice

Ruth exhaled deeply, her body sagging against the bed. She turned to Noah, her eyes glassy but grateful. “Thank you for staying.”

Noah brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “Where else would I be?”

After filling her prescription for pain medication at the hospital pharmacy, they walked out into the cold night, her arm carefully supported in its cast and sling.

Sixteen

The drive back to Ruth’s condo was quiet, a shared sense of relief settling between them now that her wrist was properly tended to. “Would you like to go to Ethan and Molly’s instead? We could make it there a little after midnight.”

Ruth stared out at the falling snow. “No. I don’t think I could manage going there. Would you mind taking me home?”

“Whatever your heart desires.” He clasped her hand.

Noah made a quick detour to a liquor store, emerging moments later with a chilled bottle of champagne tucked under his arm. Ruth raised an eyebrow at him as he climbed back into the truck. “You deserve a midnight toast,” he said simply, his grin disarming.

Once back at her condo, Noah parked and hurried around to help Ruth out of the truck. He carefully guided her inside, holding her elbow to steady her, mindful of her new cast. The warmth of her home embraced them as they stepped in, the soft glow of her Christmas tree welcoming after the harsh fluorescent lights of the ER.

He helped her out of her coat and ushered her toward the couch, easing her down into the cushions. “Stay put,” he ordered gently.

Ruth chuckled, her voice still a little shaky. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”

Noah disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses and a homemade ice pack wrapped in a fresh towel. He sat beside her, pulling her close with an easy strength that made her feel impossibly safe. Carefully, he adjusted her position, settling her into his lap with her legs draped over his. He tucked a pillow beneath her injured arm, then placed the ice pack over her cast.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against her temple.

She nodded, the tension in her body easing. “Much.”

On the TV, Ryan Seacrest’s voice filled the room, introducing the latest entertainer singing on a windblown stage in Times Square. “We have a few minutes.”

“You called me Rae. Why?” She shifted her position, her bottom now resting on his lap.

“I know many people call you Ruthie, but after Matt Brandt—well, I wanted a different nickname than he uses.” His green eyes twinkled. “Besides, you are a ray of sunshine.”

The entertainers, Ryan, and his cohost readied to count down the last minute of the year. Noah reached for the champagne bottle, twisting the cork with a satisfying pop. Bubbles fizzed up the neck as he poured two glasses, handing one to Ruth with a steady hand.

“Cheers to surviving this treacherous New Year’s Eve,” he said, raising his glass.

“And to impromptu ER trips,” Ruth added with a wry smile, clinking her glass against his.

The countdown began—ten, nine, eight… Ruth’s heart thudded with each passing second, but not from the excitement of the New Year. Noah’s presence, solid and comforting, sent a warmth spreading through her chest, eclipsing the throbbing ache in her wrist. So much for the anesthetic working six hours.

At the stroke of midnight, they both took a sip of champagne, the bubbles effervescent on her tongue. Before she could set her glass down, Noah leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. The intensity in his gaze made her breath stall.

“Here,” he said softly, taking her glass and placing it beside his on the coffee table. His hands, warm and steady, returned to her face, cupping her cheeks with infinite care. His thumbs brushed her skin, sending a ripple of anticipation through her.

He leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, giving her time to stop him if she wanted. She didn’t.

“Happy new year.” His lips met hers, soft at first, testing the waters. The kiss deepened, his mouth moving over hers with a purpose that left no doubts. This wasn’t an accidental brush of lips; it was a claiming, a connection. His hands stayed on her face, his fingers threading gently into her hair as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

Ruth melted into him, her uninjured hand gripping the fabric of his shirt as if tethering herself to him. His kiss was everything at once—gentle and commanding, tender and consuming. He tasted of champagne and something inherently Noah, something that made her toes curl and her heart skip beats.

He broke the kiss only long enough to breathe, his voice a low rumble. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. “What took you so long?”

His answering grin was laced with both amusement and relief. “Timing. But no more waiting.”

This time, she was the one who leaned in, capturing his mouth in a kiss that mirrored his earlier purpose. When they finally pulled apart, the world outside seemed far away, and the New Year had already begun with a promise of something new between them.

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