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“Right. Thanks. That works. I didn’t pack you a suit,” I say. “Surely you won’t need it.”
“I won’t,” he says. “And if we’re lucky, I’ll make it to the airport, figure out what the hell is going on, and get to turn around and come back home to better things, and that means you.” He eyes the contents of the bag I’ve packed, and then me. “You’re officially the first woman since my mother to choose my underwear.” He pulls the bag onto his shoulder. “I like the red, by the way.”
We both laugh as I say, “I favor the blue,” and we head out of the room and down the stairs, but despite his humor, I sense the edge to him, how bothered he is by the idea that he is representing a killer. And it’s just one more reason to fall for this man. “Does Royce have any idea where Nelson is headed?” I ask as we reach the den and start packing up our work from earlier.
“Nothing on that yet,” he says, zipping up his briefcase, “but we’re a little too close to the Canadian border for comfort. It’s a common jumping spot to another country.”
He’s right. We are, and this isn’t looking good. We walk to the front door, and as I pull the handle on my roller bag, Reese turns to me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close, his eyes searching mine. His expression is indiscernible. “What is it?” I ask, my hand on his chest, and I can feel his heart thundering beneath it.
Suddenly, his hands are at my face and he’s tilting my gaze to his. “Don’t get spooked while I’m gone and run. I’ll just run faster, because I don’t give up when I want something.” He kisses me then, a deep, drugging kiss, and when it’s over, he adds, “And I want you, Cat.” He doesn’t wait for an answer or allow that statement to become negotiable. He opens the door, and in a few moments, we’re walking down the hall, side by side, my hand in his again. Soon he’ll be leaving, while I’m staying, but it’s not goodbye. After tonight, it’s a whole new beginning. One where you are innocent until you prove yourself guilty.
Chapter twenty
Cat
Reese and I step into the elevator, and as the door closes, a switch flips in my head. “I forgot to tell you,” I say, turning to him. “I can’t believe I forgot this. My agent had a picture of you and me, obviously together.”
“What picture?”
“In your lobby, when you held my arm and we were walking toward the security area. Dan sent it to my publisher.”
“How did you not tell me this, Cat?”
“We’ve had a lot going on. Your staff was waiting on us, and I really, truly set this aside, but I’m thinking about it now. Dan is the asshole.”
The elevator opens. “Let’s talk in the hallway,” he says. I nod and we step outside. “Am I right to assume that your agent felt this hurt your book deal?” he asks.
“I turned down the book deal, Reese. It was never an option with Dan involved. I swear to you.”
“I’m not questioning you. I’m just thinking she has some agenda with Dan. Because that photo says that you could have a book deal with me any time you want it, if a partnership is what they want. And win or lose, my side of the story is half the story.”
“I’m close to this. That never crossed my mind, but it should have. And whatever game she might have been playing, it backfired. I fired her. And that’s not my concern right now. Dan is devious. I don’t know what he might do with that photo.”
“I’ve dealt with press exposure, including speculation about my personal life, for years. I’m thick-skinned and used to the gossip. It’s you I’m worried about. I don’t want this to affect your work any more than it already has.”
“The trial is over soon,” I say.
“You were worried about us being a problem for you before, Cat.”
“We were one and done.”
“We were never—”
I press my hand to his chest. “I know. I’m just telling you where my head was. I was protecting myself. I had a wall between us and I believed it to be real, because I needed it to be, but the book deal is done anyway, and I’m not going to lose my column if readership is high, and it is. I only brought this up for you. You needed to know. And right now, you need to leave.”
“I don’t want to walk into that lobby pretending we aren’t seeing each other. We are. I don’t want to hide it.” My heart squeezes with how vehement those words are, before he adds, “But if you want to wait…”
“No. I really don’t.” I take his hand. “We need to get you to the airport and find out what’s going on with your client.”
He cups my head and kisses me. “I’m not leaving unless I have to, so don’t get comfortable for a while.” And with that, he laces his fingers with mine and guides us down the hallway.
I realize then that he leads often, but not in the wrong ways, and at the wrong times—so far. He worries about my career and makes it easy for me to worry about his. We enter the lobby, and Reese motions me to the security desk. “Let’s stop here a moment.”
We approach the counter, where a fifty-ish, stocky man in a burgundy jacket with dark, wavy hair with sprinkles of gray awaits. “Mr. Summer,” he greets Reese upon our arrival.
“Newt,” Reese says. “This is Cat. I need to put her on the approved list.”
I glance up at him. “Do you have time for this?”
