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“Yes?”
“I wouldn’t take any of those cases. I already looked at them. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hangs up.
I’d call him an asshole for testing me like that, only he’s my mentor and teacher, so it’s his job to test me. As to how I’d answer that question—what does Cole feel like? Trouble. The kind prosecutors he opposes hate. The kind that makes me want to do everything I’ve already done with him and add a few extras: like lick every inch of his body—just once.
Yep, I think. He’s trouble and considering the fact that I just had the “I’m my own Cinderella story” talk with myself this very morning, and I’m already contemplating where to lick him again, I’m in trouble. Especially since no is always easier on the phone, which of course is why he waited to negotiate rules in person.
And if I’m honest with myself, he knows, and I know I didn’t object. That’s as good as giving a man like Cole Brooks a ticket that reads “no rules, please spank me again” and make it all better.
Chapter twenty-three
Lori
I’m up early Saturday morning, showered, and dressed in my favorite black sweats and pink tee, files in my briefcase, and gone before my mother ends an overtime shift. I arrive at Cat and Reese’s place at nine and Cat greets me in the same uniform I’m wearing: black sweats, a tee, and her blonde hair piled on top of her head. “It sucks,” she says.
I need no clarification. “Your books never suck,” I assure her, following her inside and shutting the door.
“There is always a first sucky book,” she says, as we head further into the apartment and cut right toward the main living area. “Times like these make me want to join you all at the firm.” She disappears around the corner.
I laugh. “You’re talking crazy talk now.”
I follow her into the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks when I discover Reese and yes, Cole, leaning on the far cabinet, side-by-side, both in sweats and T-shirts, both holding coffee cups. But it’s Cole that I’m aware of most, and in the moment that our eyes meet, I swear I feel his hands and lips on my body all over again, and it, he, steals my breath. Even the phone calls we’ve shared now feel more intimate.
I force myself to move toward the island, and I don’t have to hold Cole’s stare to know that he’s tracking my every step. I am so aware of this man that my nipples actually tighten with nothing more than him being here, this close to me, and we are not even alone.
I settle my briefcase and purse on a barstool. Cat is about to sit down when Reese catches her shoulders and pulls her back against him. “Relax, sweetheart,” Reese murmurs near her ear, the “sweetheart” another little tidbit to remind me of that intimacy between Cole and I that shouldn’t exist but does.
I claim a barstool and I don’t mean to, but my eyes meet Cole’s again. “Morning, Lori,” he says, and he makes “Lori” sound all sultry and rich, the hint of a smile on his brutally delicious lips speaks of a secret, our secret.
“Morning,” I say, and then add, “boss.”
If I think this will dissuade Cole from being Cole, which I have certainly learned means bold and sharp-witted, I am wrong. “I am,” he says, “aren’t I?”
“Don’t worry, Lori,” Cat says, twisting around to kiss Reese before claiming her barstool. “They’re going running like they used to back in the day, apparently.” She glances over her shoulder at Cole. “And your boss promised not to hijack you today, probably because he doesn’t know how good you are yet.”
“I’m simply trying to stop your meltdown,” Cole comments, his eyes finding mine again. “I told her that I needed you today,” he adds, “and the ever unbreakable, cool, calm, Cat—”
“Did not melt down,” Cat says. “Stop saying that.”
“She melted down,” Reese chimes in. “She’s convinced the book is a disaster.”
“Well, it’s not,” I say. “I’ve read most of the book. It’s brilliant, but with every successful endeavor she puts more and more pressure on herself to stay on top.”
Reese and Cole look at each other and give a little nod of understanding and agreement that Cat can’t see, but I do. It’s a very human moment for the two superstar legal powerhouses, and the fact that they were willing to make this acknowledgement in front of me stirs the sense of belonging in me I’ve always felt with Cat and Reese. And now there is Cole.
I pull out my MacBook and focus on Cat, who everyone in this room seems to believe needs me right now, and being needed feels as good as belonging. “Send me what I haven’t read.”
“Don’t you want coffee?” she asks. “You don’t do anything without coffee.”
“You’re stalling,” I reprimand, because a) she is, and b) she’s right, but Cole is standing by the pot and Reese and Cat are too smart and aware to not feel the charge between us that I don’t need to turn into a flame.
“You don’t function without two cups of coffee.”
God, the woman knows me. “I’m one cup in already.” It’s out before I can stop it, and I quickly scoot off my stool and walk toward Cole. I deflect back to Cat. “But I’ll make cup number two if I return to my computer with a manuscript to read.”
“You’ll have a manuscript when they leave,” she says. “They’re overwhelmingly them and it’s making me crazy.”
I laugh at that, understanding completely. These two men take up a lot of space, in all kinds of ways. Cat then says, “How is your mother?”
