Chapter 7
Bailey sat through the closing arguments the next day, still in a haze from the previous day of the trial. She was terrified Ryan's admission would sway the jury, especially after she'd said they weren't involved. They really weren't – it was one day and a few kisses, never anything more. It didn't really qualify as involved, as far as she was concerned. And their conversations over the phone had been innocent. She sighed, shaking her head as the defense attorney returned to the seeming conflict of interest in his summation. The jury filed out, and they waited.
-
He was sitting on her porch swing when she pulled into the drive, lowering her head to rest on the steering wheel. With a heavy sigh, she got out of the car, pulling her heels off as she walked through the yard, finally noticing him and stopping.
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hi."
"I heard they convicted him." She nodded, staring at her shoes in her hand.
"Three more trials to go," she said. "Three more humiliations."
"Bailey…"
"Maybe this isn't a good idea," she interrupted, looking up at him.
"What do you mean?"
"This whole thing. You and me." His brows furrowed. "I mean, I like you, Ryan, I really do. But…" she trailed off, shaking her head and looking away.
"I talked to H," Ryan offered. "Since our part of the investigation was over, it's not a conflict of interest." She remained silent. "And even if nothing happens again, it's still going to come up."
"I know," she said quietly.
"So what you're saying when you say this isn't a good idea is that you've changed your mind." Her eyes closed.
"If it's not a conflict of interest why are they even bothering?"
"They're defense attorneys. That's what they do." She nodded, walking up the porch steps and jamming her key in the lock.
"I think we should talk about this," she said quietly, pushing the door open and dropping her shoes by the couch. He followed her in, shutting the door behind him.
"What's to talk about?" he asked sullenly.
"Is it going to make things worse if we start something now or do you plan on waiting through another three trials?" she asked, turning back to face him.
"I don't plan on answering the question next time," he said. She closed the distance between them, stopping toe-to-toe with him.
"And what if the judge decides it's not up to you?"
"Then I won't have a choice." Her eyebrow rose. "But they know it doesn't matter, and the D.A. will make sure the jury knows it too."
"Why did you answer?" she asked after a moment. He shrugged.
"I figured it wouldn't look as bad if I just told the truth. People make mistakes, and I wanted the jury to know I tried to fix it."
"So it was a mistake then."
"The timing was a mistake," he said quietly, lifting a hand to brush her hair away from her eyes. His lips pressed to her forehead, and she closed her eyes.
"So now what?" she asked tilting her head to look up at him.
"It's up to you," he said. She forced a small smile.
"What do you want?"
"Another one of those mistakes," he said with a smirk. Her green eyes focused on his, and he felt her thumbs slide into his belt loops at his sides.
"You're sure it won't make a difference?"
"Not with the trial." A tiny smile touched her lips and she lifted onto her toes, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. His breath caught in his throat as her lips moved against his. She slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he wrapped her in a tight embrace. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging upwards, and he broke away just long enough for her to yank it over his head. As he pulled his shirt from his arms, dropping it on the floor, she took his hands in hers, still kissing him as she walked backwards toward the stairs. He removed his hands from hers as she backed up the first step, wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling her against him, waiting until her arms returned around his shoulders before lifting her. Her skirt bunched around her hips as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her up the stairs, setting her gently on her bed and settling above her.
She buried her fingers in his hair as his lips attacked her neck, his fingers trembling as he tried to work the buttons of her blouse loose. Goosebumps rose on her skin as his hands skimmed along her bare sides, and all conscious thought left her for a moment as she tried to free her arms of her shirt. She arched her back to give him access to the clasp of her bra, and he snapped it open with one hand, sitting up to pull it away. A shaky breath left him as he dropped the garment to the floor. She sat up, going to work on his belt as he just stared down at her. His hands found her cheeks, pulling her lips back to his as she pushed his jeans over his hips to his knees, and she fell back, taking him with her. He worked a trail of kisses down to her navel, his thumbs hooking in the waistband of her skirt to draw it slowly down her legs. She pulled her underwear off as he untangled himself from his pants.
"Ryan?" He finished pulling off his socks before looking up at her. She was propped up on her elbows, a concerned expression on her face. "Are you sure?" A soft smile crept onto his face as he crawled back onto the bed, cradling her head in his hands. He just stared down at her face for a moment, stroking her flushed cheeks with his thumbs before kissing her softly. His lips moved to the corner of her jaw, and he whispered his answer. Her back arched, a tiny whimper escaping her as he pressed his hips to hers, giving her time to adjust before starting a slow rhythm. His lips found hers, his movements synchronized, and she dug her fingers into his back, gently catching his lower lip in her teeth. Their moans intertwined, and it was dark outside before the house stilled.
-
She woke slowly and groggily, knowing she was warmer than she usually was when she woke. Light streamed through the cracks in the blinds, spilling over the bed. She made a little sound in the back of her throat, her eyes opening slowly as she realized someone else moved behind her. An arm slipped around her waist, fingers tucking under her side. A tiny smile touched her lips, and she wrapped a hand around the forearm between her head and the pillow, sliding her fingers down his arm to his wrist before tangling her fingers in his. He gave them a gentle squeeze, nuzzling her back between her shoulder blades.
"Morning," she said quietly. He inhaled sharply, pressing against her as he stretched with a loud groan. His lips moved against her skin as he mumbled something incoherent, pulling her tighter against him. "What's that noise?"
"My phone," he whined, burying his face in her neck, giving her a quick kiss before sitting up and digging through his pants at the foot of the bed. "Wolfe." She sighed, burrowing deeper under the covers. "Yeah, gimme ten minutes." She heard the phone snap shut, and he sighed heavily.
"Towels are in the closet in the bathroom," she said, pointing toward the door. He nodded, leaning over her to kiss her forehead before shuffling into the bathroom. She drifted off again as the shower turned on, waking again as the bathroom door clicked open. With a light smile, she rolled onto her back, letting her head loll to the side to watch him dress. "You know, you're pretty hot for a geek," she said with a smirk. He chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his shoes on.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, come on," she groaned, laughing lightly. "Like I have room to talk. We're both geeks."
"I know you're a geek, but what makes me a geek?" he asked, flopping on the bed next to her, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"You hang out with microscopes and computers all day?"
"Yeah, but I get to carry a gun," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. "That makes me cool."
"No, that makes you dangerous."
"No," he countered, kissing her again. "I'd only be dangerous if I didn't know how to use it."
"But you drive a vehicle that takes up a lane and a half," she said. "Now that makes you dangerous." He laughed, but his smile fell quickly.
"I have to get to a crime scene," he said quietly. "We'll have to finish this argument later." Before she had a chance to say anything more, he pressed his lips to hers, cradling the back of her head in his hand. "Can I stop by later?"
"Might want to bring a toothbrush if you plan on staying over again," she said with a smile, raising her eyebrows as she pinched her nose.
"I just used yours," he said with a wicked smile, stunning her enough to give her one last quick kiss and get off the bed.
"You what?" she finally asked, just as he started down the steps. He reappeared in the doorway.
"Kidding," he said with a sly smile. She rolled her eyes, flopping back onto the bed and flipping him off. His chuckle echoed off the hallway walls, and she found herself smiling.
-
"Ryan, Do you ever go home?" He glanced up from the computer, which was still searching through AFIS for a match on a print they picked up from a new crime scene that morning. Calleigh leaned against the doorway of the room, arms crossed over her chest.
"Sometimes," he said with a noncommittal shrug, turning back to the computer.
"Well, look, Horatio, Eric and I are going down to a Cuban bar Eric knows. Why don't you come with us?" His head snapped up in surprise. "That thing's going to be searching all night, probably," she added, nodding at the computer. He blinked quickly, the invitation a first.
"I, um…" he started, pausing to think. "I can't. I kind of already have plans." Calleigh smiled lightly.
"Bring her with you. Eric's still in the locker room. If you catch him, he can give you directions and y'all can meet us there," she offered. He took a breath, but she arched a brow at him. "I won't take no for an answer, darlin'," she said, sending him a charming smile before turning and leaving. He smiled, shaking his head a little before shrugging his lab coat from his shoulders and heading out to his vehicle. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he flipped open his phone.
"Bailey? Look, Calleigh wants us to meet her, Horatio, and Eric for drinks. … I don't know, she just knew. … It's not a big deal. We've all got the night off, so it's not like we'll be talking about work. … Well, you don't have to go if you don't want to." He smiled, turning the corner onto her street. "You sure? … Well, let me know when you want to leave and we will. … Okay, I'll see you in a couple seconds." He chuckled, flipping his phone shut as he pulled into the drive. She was opening the front door just as he reached for the door handle.
"You know, I really hate it when people hang up on me without saying goodbye," she huffed, leaving the door open tostand on the porch, hands on her hips. His eyebrow rose as he walked up the steps toward a very angry looking Bailey.
"I said I'd see you in a couple seconds," he said slowly. "It's the same as saying goodbye, isn't it?"
"No, it's the same as saying I'll see you in a couple seconds," she said, rolling her eyes. He sighed, shaking his head.
"Okay, goodbye then." She grinned.
"Bye," she returned brightly. "So are you gonna go home and change?" He glanced down at his clothes.
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Well, what kind of place is this? Jeans and a tee shirt or cute little number that shows too much skin?" His eyebrows shot up, a sly grin sliding across his lips.
"Yeah, okay," she said quickly, turning to head back inside. "Jeans and tee shirt it is."
"Wait a minute," he said, following her through the door and kicking it shut behind him. "I mean, jeans and a tee shirt is hot and all but…" he trailed off, shaking his head as she got to the top of the stairs, finally deciding to follow. He entered her bedroom just as she pulled a black tank top over her head, bending down to zip up her boots. The bed had been made neatly, her clothes picked up out of the floor, his towel still hanging perfectly folded on the rack next to the sink in the bathroom. The corners of his lips turned upwards just a little.
"How's this?" she asked, standing up and turning a circle for him. Her jeans were tighter than she normally wore them. Usually she'd buy the smallest pair of guy's jeans she could find long enough for her and pair them with a tight tank or tee shirt. These jeans looked like they were made specifically for her. The black tank stopped an inch above the waistband of her pants. A plain black belt circled her hips, and the outfit stopped with a pair of chunk heel boots. He let out a low whistle, and she smiled softly.
"Nice."
"So do youplan on standing there gawking while your friends wait for you at the bar?" she asked with a smirk.
"Colleagues," he corrected, watching her hips sway as she passed him, and followed her back down the hallway and down the stairs. She ducked into the den, opening a closet to take out a black soccer jacket with red stripes down the sleeves, draping it over her arm as she snatched up her purse. "Ready?" She nodded, smiling as he held the door open for her.
The ride to the bar was silent, except when Bailey would try to decipher the chicken scratches serving as directions. He pulled into the last open parking space and shut the car off, heaving a sigh before getting out. As they walked toward the building, he took her hand, stopping a few steps away from the front door.
"You okay?" she asked after a moment.
"This is weird," he said quietly. Her eyebrow rose. "I've been an outsider all this time and all of a sudden I'm part of the group getting invited out for drinks."
"That's a good thing," she said with a quiet laugh.
"Yeah, but it's still weird," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"Hey, you're the one that dragged me here."
"Dragged you?" he snickered.
"Showed up on my doorstep, forced me to change, threw me in your assault vehicle…" she trailed off with a smile as he laughed. "Look, I don't know what the circumstances were when you started, but there's probably a reason it's taken so long and it's probably a good sign this is happening." He only nodded. "God damn it, you're going in there if I have to club you over the head and drag you in by your leg."
"You wouldn't," he said with a smirk.
"You wanna try me?"
"Not really."
"Then get that cute geeky ass in the bar," she said sternly. He smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. She smiled over her shoulder at him as she opened the outer doors, Spanish style music playing inside. Once inside the inner doors, she stopped looking around for someone she might recognize. Ryan's arm slipped around her middle, his other arm coming over her shoulder to point toward a corner booth, where Horatio, Calleigh, and Eric were leaning in to speak to each other and hear over the music. Ryan's hand settled on the small of her back as he followed her toward the table. She sat next to Calleigh, sliding around the circle to make room for Ryan.
"Miss Devlin," Horatio said with a nod.
"How are the survivors doing?" Calleigh asked brightly. Bailey smiled.
"They're doing fine," she said. "Daisy's still a little depressed about losing all her babies, but she started eating again last week." Her eyes slid to where a group of people were dancing, glancing quickly at Ryan before turning back to the others. Eric stood, striding to the bar to ask for two more glasses for their pitcher of margarita. After a while, the five of them settled into an easy conversation.
