by Shauna Allen
I watched in wonder as he mixed together the healthiest breakfast I’d ever seen, all while my coffee brewed. “Does Jesse eat that?” I pointed to his tall pink smoothie.
This made him laugh. “Uh, have you seen our boy’s eating habits? No. I think grease and sugar are the only two food groups he acknowledges.”
Thank fuck for that. I could do health food and salads about as much as the next non-waiflike girl, but I had to admit I appreciated Jesse’s eating habits better than his roomie’s. Things like diabetes and high cholesterol could be dealt with another day. That was what yoga and kickboxing were for, right?
It wasn’t lost on me how domestic this all was and how Micah hadn’t blinked an eye at seeing me in Jesse’s T-shirt and socks. He inhaled his “food” while I puttered around and made Jesse and I some toast with jelly and coffee . . . and since Micah was watching, I tossed a cluster of grapes on the plate and loaded it all on a TV tray.
I offered a small wave then made my way back to Jesse’s bedroom with the tray of food in my hand.
I quietly closed the door behind me and just stood there looking my fill. God, that man was mine to touch and kiss and lick all I wanted. I could hardly believe my luck. I set the tray next to the bed and let my eyes wander a bit more. He was laying splayed on his stomach, the sheet barely covering his perfect, sculpted ass. Blond stubble covered his face and long lashes a shade darker than his hair curved over his cheeks in a way totally unfair for a man. His kissable lips were slightly parted as he breathed heavily. My gaze skimmed over his broad shoulders and what I could see of the soaring eagle tattooed on his shoulder, down his back . . .
“You gonna stand there gawking at me all morning?”
My eyes snapped up to his face. He was grinning a sleepy, sexy grin and studying me through heavy eyes. “I might.”
He pushed up onto his elbows and peeked over the edge of the bed. “You brought breakfast?”
I sat next to him, the mattress dipping under my weight. “I did.”
He rolled over and sat up, crossing his legs Indian-style, making him look so young. “Nobody’s ever made me breakfast in bed.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Well . . .” I lifted the tray to sit in front of our crossed legs and offered him a grape. “We’ll just have to rectify that, won’t we?”
He accepted the fruit and chewed slowly. “Micah talk you into feeding me fruit?”
I laughed. “No. But his evil eye did make me feel guilty.”
“Evil eye?”
“Okay, not really. But he was watching me so I couldn’t bring myself to bring a dozen donuts in here. He might get all judgy.”
He picked up a triangle of jellied toast and ate half of it in one bite. “He wouldn’t judge. He knows me by now.” He dipped his head and kissed me, tasting of grape. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
We ate our breakfast then Jesse moved the tray out of the way and flopped back, drawing me with him for a snuggle. “I guess I have to get up and get you home, huh?”
I propped my chin up on his chest. “No. I called in sick today.”
“You did?”
“I did.”
He bent his knee and the sheet slid down provocatively, even as his ankle monitor came into view. He didn’t seem to notice, thankfully. “Maybe I should, too.”
“You can call in sick?”
“Sure.”
“Will that affect your parole somehow?”
He shook his head and brushed a crumb from my lip. “Nah. Even hardened criminals like me get sick occasionally. But, if it makes you feel better, I can call my parole officer and let him know. I’m due to see him later this week anyway.”
My tummy wiggled in excitement. “Okay.”
He grabbed his phone and dialed, keeping me wrapped up tight in his embrace. I listened as he confirmed his next meeting with Officer Lopez and casually mentioned he wasn’t feeling well and not going to work. Nothing seemed to come of it and he hung up without incident. Next, he called Blake and let him know he’d be out. Again, no worries.
He flopped the phone onto the bed and grinned down at me. “See? All good. Now we can spend the day together.”
“Whatever shall we do with ourselves?”
His hot hand skated up underneath my T-shirt across my back. “Oh, I think we can come up with something.”
Jesse
Turned out my girlfriend was a nymphomaniac.
Okay, not really, but pretty damn close. We spent half of our day playing hooky in my bedroom, naked. I finally made her stop attacking me when my body was about to expire from hunger.
When my stomach let out a loud rumble, she giggled from her perch between my legs, pausing from having her wicked way with me. “Is my man hungry?”
“Yes, woman. You’re going to be the death of me. I must eat to keep up my strength if we’re going to keep this up.”
Her smirk was lethal as she crawled up my body. “Can’t have you giving out on me.”
“Nope.” I gave her naked ass a light smack. “Now get up. Let’s eat.”
“Fine.” She grumbled, but rose and tossed my T-shirt back on.
We found some pot pies in the freezer so I stuck them in the oven while she chopped up ingredients for salads. I swear, it was like Micah’s ghost was there, pressuring her.
She popped a carrot into her mouth. “You’re still going with me tonight, right?”
I tried to remember where we were going, but I was drawing a blank.
“Dinner? Aubrey and her mom?”
“Oh. Right. Sure.”
She smiled and we sat with our salads to wait for the pies to cook. She picked up one of Micah’s discarded health and fitness magazines and flipped it open as she propped her feet in my lap.
With a grin, I picked up the book I was currently in the middle of and began reading. We settled into a very peaceful, domestic silence as we both read and ate and her foot rubbed along my thigh, not in a sexual way, but as if to just let me know she was there.
The timer for the oven dinged and I rose, putting my book aside. “Drink?”
“Water’s good.”
I served our lunch and looked across the table at her smiling face. I could get used to this.
Rachel had done a fantastic job distracting me all day with her flirty banter and rockin’ body until it was time to go, but I was inexplicably nervous as we pulled up to the Clemson household that night.
She glanced over as she killed the engine of her Audi and gripped my hand. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
“No problem.”
Her smile was fleeting as she got out. I walked with her to the front door, my hand at the small of her back. Before she could ring the bell, the door swung open to a younger version of Rachel, all red hair and ivory skin and contagious energy.
“You’re here!” the girl exclaimed, tackling Rachel with a hug.
Rachel hugged her back then drew away. “Aubrey, this is my boyfriend, Jesse.”
I offered my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Aubrey shook my hand but her eyes pinged back to her sister. “He’s cute.”
I laughed.
Rachel laced our fingers and we made our way inside, where we found Barbara. She welcomed me just as warmly, making me wonder what, if anything, Rachel had told them about me.
We settled in to a cozy dining room and a home-cooked meal of pot roast and potatoes. Conversation was easy and natural and I found myself laughing and wondering why I’d been nervous at all.
“So, you’re a mechanic?” Aubrey asked me over dessert.
My gaze zipped to Rachel, but she only had the warmest of smiles for me. “Uh, yeah. I’m actually fixing up an old Indian motorcycle for Rachel.”
“That is so cool.” Aubrey scooped up another bite of apple pie, her eager gaze locked on me. “Do you like Mustangs? I’ve always wanted one. My dad said he’d buy me one . . .” She froze as if she just realized wh
at she said. “Sorry.”
Rachel put a hand over hers. “It’s okay. You can talk about him. He was your dad, too.” She caught my eye for a split second. “Besides, the Indian Jesse’s fixing up? It was Daddy’s. I’ll show you when it’s done.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Rachel nodded and picked up her fork for a bite of pie.
Aubrey smiled tentatively. “This whole dad thing is just a little weird, huh?”
“Definitely weird,” Rachel agreed.
It got quiet, so I steered the conversation back to safer ground. “You know, Aubrey, I do like Mustangs okay, but I’ve got a restored 1970 Dodge Charger with a 426 HEMI Stroker in it that I like better.”
Aubrey’s eyes lit up like I’d just told her I owned a gold mine. “Suh-weet.”
“I’ll take you for a ride sometime,” I promised, then I shot a look to her mother. She was all smiles, so I guess my offer was all right.
After we talked cars and other less exciting stuff for a while longer, Rachel stood with a stifled yawn. “We’ve got to be going. Thank you for having us, dinner was delicious.”
Barbara collected her in a big hug. “You’re so welcome. Thank you for hanging out with us. I hope we get to do it more.”
“So do I,” Rachel agreed, getting a bear hug from her sister while Barbara opened her arms to me.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, her eyes sparkly.
“Bye!” Aubrey leapt in for a big hug and I couldn’t help but grin.
“See ya.”
We took our leave and strolled out into the warm Texas night. As we headed home, Rachel grabbed my hand. “That was good, right?”
I watched the lights outside slide across her beautiful profile. “It was better than good. They’re great people.”
She smiled at me. “They are, aren’t they?” She faced the road again. “Why do you think my dad kept it all a secret?”
“Who knows? I’m sure he had his reasons, baby. Whatever they were, I’m sure he thought he was protecting you.” I slid down in my seat and squeezed her fingers as I contemplated secrets. They sure had a way of biting you in the ass, didn’t they?
Rachel
Having a day off with my man was sublime. Sexy, yes. And totally perfect. Dinner with my newfound family was awesome, too. It was an added bonus that Jesse was there to share it with me and ease the transition into this new relationship. I had to admit, now that the shock had worn off, I was kinda excited about it all. It was like my dad had left me a gift in Aubrey.
When I got home that night and saw Jesse off with a scorching kiss, I settled in to call my brother and report in.
“Hey, big brother,” I said when he answered.
“Hey, Rach. How’re you?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I paused, wondering how he’d feel about these newest developments. He’d given no indication he was overly worried about any of it, taking all of it in stride. Just like the calm, cool, collected brother I’d always known. “So, I had dinner with Barbara and Aubrey tonight.”
“Yeah? How was it?”
“Good. Really good, actually.” I told him about the food and conversation and how our sister loved cars and got on with Jesse.
“So, you’re serious about this guy?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You think so?”
Yes, I was as serious as could be and we had so much fun together. Problem was, I could still sense the slightest hesitation in him, as if he was afraid to jump fully in with me. “Yes. It’s serious, but it’s still early,” I hedged.
“Huh. Well, I guess I’ll have to meet this guy you’re serious about.”
I paused. Where had that come from? West had never been protective over me, not the way some big brothers were. Guess he always knew I could take care of myself, so he didn’t bother trying. I swallowed, feeling nostalgic for the life we had when we were younger. Dad was our world and he made it all right that our mother left by smothering us with love and attention. And West had been a good brother in his own quiet way. “I’d like that,” I finally murmured. “I think you’d like him.”
We chatted a while longer before I hung up and got ready for bed. As I settled under the covers, I grabbed my phone, desperate for one more Jesse fix.
Thank u for today, I texted. I feel thoroughly used and abused but I’m not complaining
U feel abused? I think I have bruises
I laughed. Those r called hickeys . . . man up
I’ll show u man up
I was grinning ear to ear as I turned off my lamp and snuggled in with my phone. I know u will . . . lucky me
No. Lucky me
I didn’t really know how to reply to that, but he beat me to it. Get some sleep, babe. I know ur tired
I was. OK, I sent back. Goodnite
I luv u
Warm fuzzies filled me. I luv u 2 sexy man
A smiley face was my only reply before the line went quiet. I went to sleep with a smile plastered to my face.
I grudgingly got up the next morning and trudged my way to the firm. I had a lunch meeting with Daisy and her partner, but she’d pretty much assured me I was a shoe-in, so I needed to start making arrangements for my current client roster. They could either go with me or I could dole them out to my current partners. Some, like Heather Casey, I really hoped would opt to follow me, but it was their choice.
I curled my toes in my heels while I waited for the office coffeepot to finish brewing my caffeine fix.
“Good morning, Rachel.”
I spun around and faced Angelo. He was looking especially smarmy this morning with a funeral director black suit and extra gel in his hair. “Good morning.”
He opened the break room fridge and grabbed a water bottle. “So, you’re really serious about leaving?”
He must’ve talked to my assistant, Gracie, who I’d asked to start getting my client files together. He’d better not be considering backing out of our deal. “Yes.”
“Huh. I guess I’d hoped you were bluffing or you’d see reason and change your mind.” He propped a hip against the counter next to me, eyeing me like I was a puzzle to figure out.
“Nope. Sorry to disappoint.” I spun away and poured my coffee, adding a large dollop of the hazelnut creamer I kept hidden away.
When I turned to leave, he called my name. I paused and faced him, discomfort writhing in my belly. Again, what had I ever seen in him? I thanked my lucky stars I’d seen reason on that façade of an engagement and ended things.
His eyes were wide and sincere as he studied me. “What happened, Rach? We started this firm together. We had everything going for us, we were happy . . .”
“No.” I put up a hand to stop him there. “You were happy. I went along until I couldn’t anymore. I’m moving on so I can be happy.”
“Is it about that guy? The mechanic?”
“What? No! Why would you . . . ?” I sucked in a great breath. “You know what? It doesn’t matter, Angelo. We’re over and I’m a grown woman who makes her own decisions. I’m proud of what we’ve done here, but I need to move on. For myself.”
His gaze dropped to his patent leather loafers. “Sure. All right.”
I nodded once and left him for my office.
Gracie perked up at her desk when she spotted me. “Ms. Chaseman, good morning.” Her gaze darted to the young couple perched on the sofa in my waiting area, nursing Styrofoam cups and looking nervous. “Your nine ‘o clock is here.”
I tilted my head. Had I forgotten an appointment?
She rose and leaned in so only I could hear. “I know you’re not taking new clients, but they made this appointment just before you put in your notice and I couldn’t reach them to cancel or reschedule them with someone else. Do you want me to send them away and refer them to Mr. Stripling or Mr. Moretti?”
I glanced at them again. They had their heads bent together as they whispered. The woman, blond and slight, sipped her drink and I noticed her slightly r
ounded belly. “No,” I said to Gracie. “It’s fine. I’ll see them and if they need other arrangements for representation, I’ll let you know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Gimme a couple minutes then send them in please.”
She nodded and I made my way in to my office. I stowed away my bag, sipped my coffee and booted up my computer. I was just getting out my legal pad when there was a knock at the door.
Gracie showed them in and I rose to greet them. “Good morning.” I offered my hand to the man first then the woman. “I’m Rachel Chaseman. Good to meet you.”
“You, too,” said the man, who looked like a giant teddy bear as he gently helped his wife into her seat. He sat next to her and took her hand. “I’m Jason Price. This is my wife, Sharon.”
I settled into my chair and pasted on my lawyer face as I lifted my pen, poised to take a few notes then refer them on to whoever would best suit their needs. Obviously not a divorce, by the looks of it. “What can I do for you?”
Jason swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His almond-shaped brown eyes flicked to his wife then back. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “We wanted . . . I have some questions about . . . pressing criminal charges against someone.”
I tilted my head as the atmosphere in the room changed. “Look, Mr. and Mrs. Price, I’d love to help you, but I need you to be honest with me. I can’t give advice if you don’t tell me exactly what’s happened.”
The woman looked down at her lap as he continued to study me. Finally, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I understand. It’s just a difficult thing to talk about, you understand.”
“What is?”
“I was molested when I was eleven-years-old.”
My heart chilled in my chest at his words. God. “Oh, Mr. Price, I’m so—”
“Don’t.” He stopped me. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You did nothing wrong.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before continuing. “I’ve kept this bottled up inside for all these years and it’s eaten away at me until I was nothing but a ball of anger. I hated myself.” He glanced lovingly at his wife. “But I finally started counseling and I realized that to heal myself, I needed to speak up. See if it was too late to do anything about it.”
