Nate turns toward Joe. “I would trust this woman with my life but if you would prefer she step out of the room while we talk over your case, then she can.”
I grasp onto the sides of the chair, ready to push up and leave the room. I don’t mind if I’m in here or not, but I still manage to look back at Stacey for her reaction, and when she relaxes her hand, I can’t help the jealousy that comes bubbling up, which is absurd.
Joe swats the air as he replies, “She can stay, let’s just get this over with.”
“Certainly.”
I try to pay attention as they all go back and forth, legal talk and words I have no idea of their meaning being batted around like a ball on a baseball field—I’m in awe. Nate’s fingers move around folders on the table, picking pieces of paper up and reading off random ones. Those fingers were on me—inside me—only hours ago. Shit, don’t go there, don’t think about that, not here.
I’m inside my own head, remembering the way his lips felt against mine, the way he felt inside me, but even if I wasn’t, I still would have jumped as a voice fills the room after a loud beep. “I’ve got Peters for you on line one, Nate.”
“Fantastic. Thanks, Murphy,” Nate says as Jamie presses a button on a black object in front of them.
“Peters, how good of you to call.”
“Stop pussyfooting around, I’m a busy man. What do you want?” a gruff voice spits out of the speaker, making me cringe.
“Word is you’re Mrs. Kent’s attorney.”
“Cole,” the voice growls back.
“Fine.” Nate stands with a file in his hand, drawing up to his full height and even I lean back from the opposing gesture. “Mrs. Kent is in a lot of trouble, Peters.”
I screw up my nose at the sarcastic laugh flowing from the speakers. “And why is that? It’s your client with the domestic case against him.”
Nate grins at me, winking, before looking back at Stacey and nodding. Stacey leans forward. “Mr. Peters, this is Stacey Wainwright, first chair for Mr. Kent.” There’s no reply so she continues, “Your client has falsified this whole case. As Mr. Cole said, she’s in a lot of trouble, but we could make this all go away.”
As I watch Stacey working, the jealousy I was starting to feel fizzles out. Maybe all she’s concerned about is the case? Maybe I’m having a brief wobble because I’m so out of my element? I feel like an elephant walking a tightrope.
“I have no time for games, Ms. Wainwright.”
“The only one playing games is your client,” Nate interjects, his voice deepening. “We’ve uncovered two pieces of new evidence that if released to the press or presented in court would be very damaging.”
They’re greeted with silence and during the next ten seconds—I counted—they all seem to have a four-way conversation with their eyes.
Mr. Peters finally sighs. “What do you want?”
“Drop the charges against my client.”
“Absolutely not. Domestic violence is a serious offense!”
I lean back in the chair, my eyes searching Joe’s. Is this man here because he hurt his wife? Nate wouldn’t bring me here if there was any danger, I’m certain of that.
“Of course… when there’s actually domestic violence involved,” Nate grinds out, his hands braced against the table in front of him. “Drop the case, Peters.”
I swallow as the atmosphere in the room changes, Nate’s demeanor nothing of the relaxed person he was a few hours ago. There’s a tense few seconds before the voice on the line says, “Go to hell, Cole,” and we’re left with a beep.
“Well that didn’t go down well,” Joe interjects, his lips pulled down and his brows low on his forehead. I have no idea what all the ins and outs of this case are, but from the sadness that radiates off him, I’d say he’s been caught up in something with no knowledge how he got there.
Nate claps him on the shoulder smiling. In fact, him, Jamie, and Stacey are all smiling and I’m left as confused as Joe.
“We have him right where we want him. He’s rattled and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on his way down here now.”
“Well I’ll be,” Joe says, leaning back in his chair.
“We’ll have this charge against you dropped and your name cleared very soon, Mr. Kent,” Stacey replies, quirking her lip up before she turns to Nate. “Thanks for being here for that. I hate Peters.”
“He’s a real asshole, but be prepared because he’ll be on his way down here. Get Nina to make extra copies of everything,” he says, his gaze flicking toward me before moving to Joe and shaking his hand. “Joe, it was a pleasure to see you again.”
“You too, Nathan. Tell your father to contact me and we’ll all go for lunch sometime.”
“Will do.”
As soon as Joe leaves the room, the air around us changes.
“Mr. Cole?” Stacey stands up as he turns around and for some reason I’m pushing up off my chair too. The thought of her being close to him does something to me—makes me feel irrational. Her gaze flicks to mine before she connects it back onto Nate as she asks, “Are you not staying?”
He’s not looking at her though, he’s staring into my eyes as he replies, “Nope, I have dinner plans. You’re more than capable of handling this yourself.”
She clears her throat. “I’m okay to make the agreement?”
His jaw twitches before he turns toward her. “You know we’re not going for jail time. It’s a simple plea agreement for her to announce he’s innocent as well as revoking all her rights to his fortune when he divorces her.”
Stacey looks at me, straightening her navy-blue suit jacket. “Right. And do I—”
“Stacey?”
Her head swivels toward him and he gives her an encouraging smile. “Mrs. Kent didn’t cover her tracks very well when she hired that guy to knock her around a little.” Holy crap, does this stuff really happen in real life? “You have the evidence sitting in front of you plain as day, and I trust you.” He walks over to me and places the palm of his hand against the bottom of my back. “Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have dinner to prepare. My work cell is on if it’s urgent.”
Leading me out of the room, he brings us back into the main hallway where there are still just as many people running around.
“So you have a meal to prepare, huh?” I smirk, gaining his attention.
His thumb snakes under my tank top, rubbing at the bare skin on my hip. “I was thinking that today has been a whirlwind and I’m sick of sharing you with everybody else, so we’re not going to a restaurant.”
“Well…” I start, pushing my body closer to his.
“Mr. Cole—”
My nostrils flare as a second person comes closer to us, calling out to Nate as well. The idea of him being the boss is nice, but not when I’m trying to—
“Just one question, Mr. C—”
“Nope,” he says popping the p. “Stacey is in charge.”
“But, Mr. Cole...”
“Stacey is in charge, Murphy.” He grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the elevators. “Run or we’ll never make it out alive!”
Laughter bubbles up and overtakes my whole body as he jams his hand on the button for the elevator, yanking me inside and pushing us into the corner as the doors slide closed, blocking out all the people vying for his attention.
We’re both breathing hard as we start to descend, our laughter turning into chuckles and finally dying down into nothing when his gaze connects with mine.
“So…” I swipe my tongue along my bottom lip, aware he’s watching me intently. “Mr. Kent knows your dad?”
He nods. “They’ve been friends as far back as I can remember.”
The doors slide open but neither of us move to walk back to the car. I breathe him in, letting the back of my head hit the wall as I stare up at him.
“I imagine your dad to be a lot like you,” I whisper, not able or wanting to stop the words coming out of my mouth. I don’t want to filter everything I s
ay, and after today, I have every intention to say exactly what I think and not hold back.
An affectionate smile quirks up his lips. “He’s a good man. Mom and Dad are both going to love you when they get to know you properly.”
My palms start to sweat at his statement and my eyes widen. I’ve met his mother and father very briefly, barely managing to say hi. But that was different, because I was “Amelia, the woman who looks after Clay and Izzie.”
“I…” I lift my head, closing my eyes briefly before I take a calming breath. “I’m sure I’ll love them too when I eventually meet them as your… girlfriend.” Saying that word feels foreign but I love the way it rolls off my tongue.
“Yeah… I hope that was okay.”
Lifting up onto my tiptoes, I lean closer, pressing my lips against his before whispering, “It was more than okay.”
“Then I guess since we’re official we can tell people we’re together? I don’t want to hide anymore, it’s tiring.”
I consider what he’s said for a moment, wondering if it’s safe. Before today I wanted to keep it a secret, and even though I know someone was watching us at the waterfall, I can’t bring myself to ask him to keep it to ourselves anymore. They already know anyway.
If we do this, then we need to be all in—I need to be all in. Forget about the what-ifs. I want to live in the moment, but more importantly, I want to live in the moment with Nate.
“Okay,” I reply, letting my feet drop flat and running my hand down his forearm, the pads of my fingers trailing over his popping veins. “Let’s start telling people.”
“How about we start with my parents? Ease you into it before telling Tris?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Even though the idea of meeting his parents scares the hell out of me; telling Tris while he’s in his current mood won’t go down well. It’s not that he has a say, because he really doesn’t, but he’s like family to me and I don’t want to upset him.
He slams his lips down onto mine, sealing the deal we just made and pushes me against the wall of the elevator. Moaning as his hands thread through my hair, I push my hips closer to him, seeking him out again. There’s no doubt in my mind we’ll be doing a repeat of what we did at the waterfall. His hands dig into my ass with a bruising grip and I relish in the feel of it, squeezing his tense bicep muscles.
The sound of the doors beeping as they start to close has us both snapping out of it. If it wasn’t for that and the threat of ending up back in the chaos upstairs, I don’t think we would have stopped.
“How does takeout sound?” he asks against my lips.
I sigh happily. “Sounds like perfection.”
“Good, because I don’t think I can wait any longer to get you in my bed.”
I lay my hand on her knee as we pull up my parents’ driveway, the white colonial standing tall in front of us. “Lia, calm down.”
She bites the side of her thumb, finally turning her gaze to me. “I can’t help it. I’ve never done the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing.”
I pull her hand away from her mouth and place a kiss on her knuckles. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, I promise. There’ll be no intrusive questions or asking to spill your secrets, they’re just excited to get to know you.” She blanches and turns her head away from me. “Lia, what’s wrong?”
She’s silent for a beat, staring out of the window. “I…” Clearing her throat exaggeratingly, she turns back toward me. “Nothing. Let’s do this.”
I worry my lip before climbing out of the car after her. There’s something she’s hiding and it’s taking all my effort to not have Holland do some digging around. I know I can’t invade her privacy though, but that’s the only thing from stopping me giving him the go-ahead.
Ever since we made this “official” I’ve been wanting her to trust me and let me in. I guess for her when she agreed to come with me tonight it was her way of letting me know she trusts me. She’s a private person so it means a lot that she’s willing to let people know about us and welcome my parents and sister into her life.
I reach out and entwine my fingers with hers, walking up the steps. Her fingers tighten around mine as my other hand brushes the door handle. “Smile, beautiful.”
She graces me with a carefree smile and I push open the door, instantly greeted by the smell of home cooking.
“Honey, I’m home!” I shout through the house.
“In the kitchen, hon,” Mom’s melodic voice floats back.
We walk through to the kitchen and Mom smiles wide at us both, her hands clasped in front of her. “Would you look at you both.”
She pulls me in for a hug and I kiss her cheek as I pull away. “Hi, Mom.”
She reaches out and pulls Amelia into an awkward hug. “Nice to see you again, Amelia.”
“It’s nice to see you again, too, Mrs. Cole,” Amelia replies, pulling back, her cheeks heating.
Mom keeps her hands on Amelia’s shoulders. “We’ll have none of that ‘Mrs. Cole’ business, Mrs. Cole was my mother-in-law, God rest her soul. Call me Melissa, or Mel, whatever suits you.”
I cross my arms and lean against the counter, watching their interaction.
“Okay.” Amelia smiles softly. “Thanks for having me in your home, Mel.”
“It’s my absolute pleasure.” She links her arm through Amelia’s and leads her over to the wooden table, sitting down on the bench next to her. “Do you know how long it’s been since my boy brought a woman home?”
“Mom,” I groan.
She turns to face me with a cheeky grin on her face. “What?” She looks back at Amelia. “Never. He’s never brought anyone back here.”
Amelia’s wide-eyed gaze turns toward me before she looks back at Mom. “Never?”
“Never, so you must be special.”
“She is that.” I walk over and kiss Amelia on the top of the head. “Where’s Dad and Maya?”
“Your father will be back in around fifteen minutes and Maya is probably in her room on her darn cellphone.” She rolls her eyes and turns toward Amelia. “I don’t know what it is with teenagers and cellphones but it seems to be permanently attached to her hand.”
Laughing softly, Amelia replies, “I can barely send a text message on mine. Izzie can work it better than I can.”
I chuckle. “Speaking of teenagers, I’ll go and get the one festering in her room.”
I wait for a nervous reaction from Amelia but when it doesn’t come and she swats me away, deep in conversation with my mom, I walk over to the door only to turn around and watch the scene in front of me play out.
Amelia laughs at something Mom says and answers her back animatedly. Gone is the nerves and in their place is the bright and bubbly personality I’ve come to know. Mom catches my eye and gives me a slight approving nod before winking. It’s like she knew what I was thinking.
I slowly will myself to stop staring and push through the door, taking the stairs two at a time and walking to Maya’s room.
Knocking on the wooden surface of the door, I ask, “Maybug, can I come in?”
I hear rustling before a voice shouts, “Yeah.”
I walk in but she doesn’t look up from the guitar in her hands so I walk over and sit in the armchair opposite her bed. “Hi, Nate. How are you? Oh hi, Maya, I’m great thanks. How are you?” She rolls her eyes but continues strumming a beat on her guitar. “Nothing? Nothing at all for your big brother you haven’t seen in a while?”
She smirks and finally looks up at me. “It’s only been two weeks, not much could have changed since I last saw you.”
I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. “Actually, they can and they have.”
She hums before saying, “That so?”
She stops strumming her guitar and makes a note on the notebook in front of her as I answer, “Yup.”
Sighing heavily, she looks up from the notebook. “Is dinner ready? Is that why Mom sent you up?”
“Not yet.”r />
She raises a brow. “I have to finish these lyrics, I have an end of semester talent show coming up.”
Maya has always loved music, as soon as she steps onto a stage, she lights it up. She has a low, raspy voice that’s so different to her speaking voice you’d never believe it was her. “Yeah?” I walk over and sit on the bed in front of her. “Show me.”
She nervously fiddles with the corners of the notebook. “It’s not done yet, but okay.” She clears her throat and strums the guitar. From the first note, I’m captivated up until the very last. “Obviously it’s not finished yet and—”
“Maybug, it’s beautiful.” I stand up and walk over to the door. “You’re going to be big one day; mark my words.”
“That’s the plan, big bro,” she replies before putting her guitar back on its stand.
“I erm…” She looks up at me with expectant eyes. “Not sure Mom told you but I’ve brought my girlfriend with me.”
She splutters the soda she began to take a sip of. “Your girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?”
I chuckle, half offended. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. Why do you sound so surprised?”
She walks into her en suite bathroom, coming out with a towel in her hand as she cleans up the sticky mess on her face. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before.”
“I had one that one time,” I deadpan.
“That one time? Wow, my brother has serious game issues.”
“One: I’m not talking to you about that. I have plenty of ‘game,’ thank you very much. And two: would you just hurry your ass up so you can meet her.”
Throwing the towel into her laundry hamper, she turns back to me. “What’s her name?”
“Amelia.”
She pauses in thought. “Tristan’s Amelia?”
I shake my head. “No, my Amelia. She’s not Tristan’s anything, but she does look after his kids.”
“Alright, but she’s here, right now?” I nod. “So it’s serious?”
I shrug as she picks up her cell, but I can’t help the grin kicking up so much that I probably look a little insane. “I like her a lot.”
“Oh em gee! You love her, don’t you?” I walk out of the room, ignoring her. “You do. You love her!”
Fighting Our Way Page 21