Page 42 of Blind Justice

Ruth blinked back unexpected tears, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m okay. I’m more than okay. I just…”I feel safe and… loved,she thought.

Ruth felt his arms tighten around her, his embrace steady even as her own heart raced. She could feel the depth of his emotions in the way he held her, as though she was something precious, something he didn’t want to let go of. When his lips met hers again, the kiss was soft, unhurried—a silent invitation to let her walls down. There was no rush, no urgency, only tenderness that coaxed her to trust him, to trust herself.

His hands and mouth moved over her with a gentleness that brought tears to her eyes. Every touch, every caress was deliberate, teaching her something she had never truly understood before—that intimacy wasn’t about expectations or perfection. It was about connection, about being seen and accepted.

As the night unfolded, Noah’s whispered reassurances and unspoken patience guided her. He was attuned to her every response, easing away any hesitation with the warmth of his kisses and the quiet strength of his presence. He gave her time, space to feel safe in this moment with him. Slowly, her doubts began to melt away, replaced by something softer, something she hadn’t dared to hope for—trust.

By the time they lay tangled together for a second time, Ruth’s worries had dissolved entirely, replaced by the warmth of something unshakable. She smiled against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his skin, marveling at the ease she felt in his arms. Her head rested against him, his heartbeat steady and reassuring beneath her ear, her injured arm carefully propped on the pillow he had adjusted for her comfort.

Noah’s arm wrapped securely around her, holding her as though he belonged there—as though they both did. The quiet of her bedroom wrapped around them, and for the first time, Ruth felt completely at peace. She nestled closer, letting her body relax against his, her heart full in a way she hadn’t thought possible.

This was home—not a place but a person. Noah.

* * *

Noah glanced down at her.Ruth’s face was soft, peaceful as she rested against him. The slow rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her body, the way her fingers curled around his without thinking—it tugged at something deep inside him.

He exhaled, barely a whisper of sound. “This is different,” he murmured, half to himself.

Ruth didn’t stir. She had no idea what she was doing to him, how she was slipping past every defense he’d ever built. He’d felt things before—intense, fleeting, burning emotions—but this? This wasn’t fire. It was something deeper, quieter, something that settled into the corners of him without asking permission.

She had a way of pulling him open without trying. He wasn’t even sure when it had happened.

His rational mind protested.Too fast. Too soon.

But none of it mattered. Not when she made him feel like this. Like he’d finally stopped running.

A sleepy murmur pulled him from his thoughts. “Noah…” Her voice was soft, drowsy. She shifted slightly, her head tilting just enough for her heavy-lidded eyes to find his. “What are you thinking?”

A slow, unbidden smile crossed his lips. His fingers slid into her hair, tangling gently.

“You,” he admitted, his voice low. “How incredible you are. How lucky I am.”

A faint blush touched her cheeks. She ducked her head, a shy smile forming.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” she whispered, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Something twisted in his chest, almost painful in its intensity.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, lingering there just long enough to memorize the moment. The words sat on the edge of his tongue—I love you—but he held them back. Not because they weren’t true. But because when he said them, he wanted it to be perfect.

For now, this was enough.

He closed his eyes, holding her close. One truth settled deep inside him: this wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t infatuation.

It was something far, far greater.

And when the time was right, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell her exactly what she meant to him.

Eighteen

Noah was immersed in work, reviewing a stack of reports that came in over the new year’s break. The rhythmic tapping of his pen against the desk was the only sound in the room, his focus razor-sharp despite the lingering thoughts of Ruth that flitted at the edges of his mind. He couldn’t help but replay the events of the previous night—the ER visit, the champagne toast, the way she’d looked at him with such vulnerability and trust.

The door opened, and Alex sauntered in, his easy smile in place as he perched on the edge of Noah’s desk. “Hey,” he said casually, folding his arms. “Happy New Year.”

Noah glanced up. “To you as well.”

Alex’s grin widened. “Just wanted to say thanks for taking care of Ruth. Tristan filled us in. He said the doctor was impressed they could set her wrist on the first try without needing surgery. Sounds like she got lucky.”

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