My breath hitched in my chest as I shoved the sob down. Down to the place where I pushed every other emotion that had the potential to make me break. “You don’t know that. They won’t give up. Not because they especially want The Gables or because they need the money, but because they don’t want me to have it. I could lose my home, Crosby. The only place I’ve ever truly felt safe.”

The words had bubbled out before I could stop them. But the truth in them was undeniable. I’d given everything I had to create a sense of security for myself. Working harder than I’d thought possible to get back on track in college, to graduate on time with the rest of my classmates. I’d gotten a good job. One that was steady and would always give me enough money to live on. I didn’t take risks—or I hadn’t until this thing with Crosby. I’d done everything I could to give myself the life I didn’t have growing up. But it was Harriet and this place that had given me the most. And now, all that could be taken away.

Crosby’s thumbs stroked over my cheeks as he kept hold of my face. The pads of those thumbs were rough with calluses, likely from all of his many adrenaline-fueled hobbies. But the feel of them was hypnotic, calming in a way that shouldn’t be possible, not from this man. “You might think I’m a slacker, but I’m a damn good lawyer. I’m not going to let Clark and his family take your home.”

Crosby’s words startled a laugh out of me. “I know you’re a good lawyer. Probably the best in the islands.” I’d heard people talking about Crosby before, how he’d won them what they thought was a hopeless case. I’d also heard that he helped in cases where the client couldn’t pay his normal rates. God, I’d held so tightly to my view of this man, even when the evidence laid before me clearly pointed to a different picture, a more complex one. “I trust you.”

The words surprised even me. But as I searched inside myself, I found that they were true. I may not have completely let down my guard, but I trusted Crosby to give his all to save my home, my safe place. “I do.”

Crosby rose, grabbing my hands and lifting me with him. “Let’s get inside. I’ll make you some tea.”

“You hate tea.”

“I didn’t say I was going to drink the stuff.” He moved around my space as if he belonged there, opening cabinets, pulling out a mug and my kettle, going in search of tea bags.