He reached to take a slice of bacon off my plate, using the excuse to study my expression. Moving territory wasn’t something to be done lightly. Which meant he was serious. About me. About us. And I knew that, I guess. It was just…unexpected.

“It’s really more of a home base than a home,” he said. “I just thought Philadelphia would be more convenient, under the circumstances.”

I nodded.

“I’m particularly interested in a new building about a block from your office.”

I managed a smile. “Ah, the Renaissance Towers. Very classy. Did you know they tore down one of the city’s oldest apartments to build it? Destroyed a heritage building?”

“I believe they preserved part of the facade.”

“And evicted people who’d been living there their entire lives.”

“It has a lovely view.”

“I’m sure it does.”

He sighed. “If I choose it, I’ll donate five percent of the purchase price to a homeless shelter.”

“That’s not really the point.”

“It has a lovely view.”

I shook my head and finished my orange juice.

“Anyway, it would be convenient for you,” he said. “A place for you to eat lunch, instead of brown bagging it at your desk. And a place to sleep if you work late or the weather’s bad.”

“That’d be nice.”

He reached for my uneaten croissant. “You may find it more convenient, at some point, to stay there during the week, and we can spend weekends at your townhouse in Gideon.”

I gave him a look.

“I said, ‘at some point.’”

“I’ve never lived with anyone, Karl.”

“Neither have I.”

“I drool in my sleep.”

“I know. It’s cute.”

As I opened my mouth, the phone blipped on my nightstand. A text message, which meant I didn’t need to answer it immediately, but it made a good excuse.

“Who is it?” he asked, though his tone told me he had a pretty good idea.

“Paige.”

As I skimmed through the message, my fingers tightened around the phone. “She says there was a shooting last night, while they were finding Carlos. They think it’s a member of the gang. She’s warning me that she’s sending the photo separately, so I don’t get a shock opening it, I guess.” I took a deep breath and resisted the urge to check for the second message. “Troy’s stable. And they did find Carlos. She says they’re ‘holding him.’” I glanced at Karl. “In custody? Do they think he’s involved?”

His expression said he didn’t care enough to speculate.

“She’d like me to call her. She probably has some questions about last night.”

“Fine. Tell her you’ll call from the plane.”

“Karl…”

“Don’t you see what he’s doing?”

“Who?”

“Lucas. He’s as sneaky as his father. I told him to call me.”

“It’s my help they need with the photo.”