“As do I,” he says. “Lori will learn that. She’s a young attorney, but as a friend, let me say this: Maybe you should take Lori to Houston. See our new partner candidate. Get her away from the heat of it all and give her the room to melt down. Then come back and start fresh.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But Lori needs to feel in control. I’m not sure pulling her from the familiar does that for her.”
“Right here, in this place, she has to have control,” he says. “And that woman has worn a suit of armor for years. Maybe that means she really didn’t let the attack get to her. Or maybe it means the effects are going to build and build under all that armor and explode without warning.”
He’s hit a nerve I didn’t know existed, something bothering me that I couldn’t identify. Under that armor, Lori was losing her mind when I met her, stressed and worried all the time. I’m supposed to be the person she can throw it away with. I’m supposed to be her safe place. My need to protect her has done just the opposite. I’ve forced her to put that armor back on.
Reese’s phone buzzes with a text and he glances at it. “One of my associates. Let me call him and then we should go upstairs where our women await.”
“Is Lori here?”
“For about ten minutes,” he says. “Cat sent me a text when Lori was on her way up to give them about twenty minutes of girl time.” He stands up and walks toward the bar.
Lori is here and didn’t stop by and tell me. That doesn’t feel right. I stand up, grab my briefcase and motion toward upstairs to Reese. I don’t wait for him to join me. I need to see my wife. And if I have to, I’ll take Reese’s advice. I’ll tie her to a bed and keep her there while I tear away that armor, inch by inch if that’s what it takes.
***
Lori
I’m still standing in the bathroom, staring at the box that reads “pregnancy test” when Cat knocks on the door. “Well?”
I open it and hold up the box. “I haven’t taken the test.”
“Why?!”
“I don’t know, Cat. I don’t know. I just can’t seem to make myself take it. Maybe that’s why I haven’t found a way to get the test. I’m afraid to find out.”
Her hands come down on my arms. “Honey, this is not you. You aren’t afraid of anything.”
“Apparently I am. I don’t know how I could worry over a baby when I just worried over my mother. And my father died and—”
“Deep breath. You are not pregnant, but if I’m wrong, and I’m not, you will be the best mother ever. Take the test.”
“Cole and Reese will be here any minute.”
“Reese is going to text me when they head up here. I’ll warn you. Take the test. Should I stand here and supervise?”
“No, you will not,” I say indignantly. “I’ll take it.”
“Hurry,” she says, waving me back inside and shutting the door behind me. “If you hear the door,” she calls out, “I’m expecting documents from the courthouse I ordered for my work-in-progress I want to show you. That means hurry, in case you didn’t hear my first hurry.”
“Right,” I call out. “Hurry.” I sit down on the toilet seat. What is wrong with me? I read the box. I’ve read it five times. It doesn’t seem to matter. I read it two more times and then tear open the box. The test is officially in my hand. I set it on the sink, and press my hand to my forehead.
There is a knock on the door. I stuff the test back in the box. I’m doing this in the morning. It says morning on the box. My phone rings and I snatch it from my purse to find my mother calling. “Hey, mom.”
“Why do you sound weird?”
“Because I was born that way?”
She laughs. “Ah, your father loved that joke. I miss him.” She sighs. “I miss you, too. We’re home. Can you and Cole come see us soon?”
“We’d like that. This weekend?”
“Perfect. And then I can thank Cole for that amazing trip to the Hamptons in person.”
“Great. Yes. I can’t wait to hear about it. I’ll call you later this week. Are you back at work?”
“Tonight. I’m headed there now. Talk soon, honey.”
We disconnect and there’s a knock on the door. I stand up, determined now to move past this test tonight. I open the door and suck in a breath. Cole is standing there, big and broad, and perfectly male while holding a pregnancy test in his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I didn’t start my period, but the doctor said it’s probably stress but I—I just—”
He drags me to him, his eyes dark, turbulent. Worried? I don’t know. Maybe. “Are you pregnant?”
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to make myself take the test.”
He kisses me. “Take the test.”
“If I am—”
“Then you are. Then we are.”
I nod, my heart squeezing with all kinds of unnamed emotions. “Okay. I need to do this alone.”
“No.”
“You aren’t watching me pee on that strip, husband or not. You can help me watch after.”
He nods. “Okay.” He offers me the test.
I take it. “I have another one. This is a back-up.”
He kisses me again. “Hurry.”
“That’s the word of the night,” I say, my voice making this weird crackling sound. Like someone just pinched me or something. “I will.” He shuts the door.
I grab the box and this time I just do it. I pee on the stupid stick. I cover it with a tissue because I can’t look without Cole. I then wash my hands for a ridiculous amount of time and open the door. Cole’s eyes meet mine, and I feel that familiar punch of awareness between us, but it’s more now. It’s this new level of intimacy and shared nervous energy. “How long?” he asks, shutting the door.
“It should be ready now,” I say pointing at it.
“Why is it covered?”
“I didn’t want to look without you.”
“But you were going to take it without me?”
“No,” I say. “I didn’t. I was going to wait. And it says morning. It might not be accurate so even if it’s negative, we have to do this all over in the morning.”
“Take the tissue off of it,” he orders softly.
“You do it.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Holy hell. Why are we hesitating?” He pulls me to him. “Whatever the result, I love you.”
“I love you, too. Oh God. Just look.”
He nods and we both turn and he pulls the tissue. We both stare down at it. “What am I looking at?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “Negative. No baby for us.” My eyes burn and I cover my face.
He turns me to him, dragging my hands from my face. “What are you feeling?”
“I don’t know. I think—I didn’t want to be pregnant, but now that I’m not, I feel—let down. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
“Me too,” he says softly. “I feel the same. Like, it wouldn’t have been a bad thing.”
“It’s the wrong time,” I say, “and we never talked about this. We never—”
“I do. I do want us to have kids, Lori.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” he says brushing the hair from my eyes. “I do, but do you?”
“Apparently, I do. I hadn’t thought of it and I feel afraid of what I could lose right now. You have to feel the same.”
“Oddly, the moment I thought you were pregnant, that feeling faded. Like new life, somehow, heals the past, but like you said, this isn’t our time.”
“When is the right time?”
“We’ll know. You’ll know. When you’re ready.”
“When I’m ready?”
“You are still establishing your career. We’re chasing your dream and we’re going to enjoy every step of the way.”
“And you’re still establishing the firm.”
“So, we wait. We enjoy each other, but if it
happens by accident, let’s not panic. Besides, we’ll make beautiful babies together.”
I smile. “We will, won’t we?”
“Yes,” he says, cupping my face. “And this is you and me. Together. Whatever happens.”
“Together. Whatever happens.”
“No one gets to take that from us. I promise.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lori
Cole and I exit the bathroom to find Cat and Reese at the kitchen island with a bottle of wine and four glasses they’ve already filled. Cat lifts the one meant for me. “Wine?” she asks, her way of finding out my test results.
“Yes,” I say. “I would like some wine.”
Cat winks. “Told you.”
Cole reaches for his wine. “Why not wash two whiskeys down with wine.”
“Exactly my thoughts tonight,” Reese says. “And that’s why God made car services. I also vote we order pizza, because I’m starving.”
“My pastry butt is never going away,” I declare.
Cole glances down at me. “Pastry butt?”
“I ate too much in Paris.”
“But it was fun,” he reminds me, his eyes warm.
“Yes,” I agree, my cheeks flushing with the memory of him spanking me in that hotel room. “It was—fun.”
He gives me a knowing look, his eyes burning hot. “We should do that again.”
That.
Again.
He means he should spank me.
Reese clears his throat. “All right then. I’ll order the pizza. I know what everyone likes by now.”
Cole gives an evil laugh that has me nudging his leg in warning.
“And I,” Cat says, saving us with a change of topic, “have something to tell you both. Your client connected with my publisher and I’m for sure writing his book. I’m going to make the world see the injustice served him and the heroes that his attorneys really are.”
Cole sucks in a breath and downs his wine. “So we can get more attention.”
“The book won’t be out until next year sometime,” she says. “And you know me. I won’t publish anything you don’t want published. I’ll let you read it. Actually, I’d like you both to co-author with me. I think it will be brilliant, and there’s a couple hundred thousand in it for you to split.”
“And a press tour and attention we don’t need,” Cole says looking at me, and I can see his demons crawling out of the box. I can feel him pulling me close and trying to shelter me. “We don’t need the money.”
“We can donate our portion to the families,” I say. “I can do the work with Cat. I think this book can expose the corruption of the legal system we want to be pure and fair. I want us to talk about it.”
He studies me for several long beats in which I sense his struggle. I can almost feel him shove those demons back into the box. “You really want to do this?” he asks, proving despite his box of demons, he’s still the man who helped me chase my dreams, who is always pushing me forward, not holding me back.
“I think I might,” I say. “Cat and I are good together.”
“We are,” Cat says. “But no pressure. I just couldn’t resist agreeing on that.”
Cole looks between us. “You are. I know you are.” He refocuses on me. “If you want to do it—”
“I want to talk about it,” I say, kissing his cheek, and taking his hand. “With you. Later.”
His eyes warm and before he can reply, Reese announces, “Pizza is on the way.” He grabs the wine. “Let’s move to the living room where we can talk about world domination.”
Reese and Cat head out of the kitchen and I catch Cole’s arm. “Any word from Walker on Ashley’s ex?”
“Nothing,” he says, snatching his phone. “I should text Royce.” He punches in a message. “How was she?”
“Rattled,” I say. “Really, how can she not be? Does she have family or anyone here?”
“She doesn’t have anyone, period.”
“Maybe we should invite her to stay with us?”
“Let’s see what Royce says.”
His phone buzzes with a return text. “No word yet,” he says, reading the message and then sticking his phone into his pocket. “He’s got calls out. They’re watching Ashley. And he’ll update me before bed. He’s already communicated with Ashley.”
“The flowers and the card were scary, considering he’s supposed to be some sort of criminal.”
“Maybe it was all a mix-up. It happens or we wouldn’t have jobs.”
The doorbell rings. “That will be Cat’s delivery she was expecting from the courthouse. I should—”
Cole pulls me to him and kisses me. “What was that for?” I ask when I can finally breathe again.
“My way of telling you I’m here.”
“You don’t have to kiss me for me to know that, Cole Brooks.”
“Then call it just because,” he says, but it’s not just because. It’s something else. Something he wants to say, but is better said alone.
I suddenly want to leave, and hear everything on his mind and talk for hours if we need to talk for hours, but I like us as a couple with Cat and Reese. I like how normal and right that now feels. He does too, I see it in his eyes, but I think we both know that one of the best things we can do together right now is get back to a normal life. We need normal. We need things like pizza with Cat and Reese. I take his hand. “Let’s go plan world domination,” I say, laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks, draping his arm around my shoulders as we start walking.
“Because I just had this mental dialogue about how good getting back to normal is, and then I said ‘let’s go plan world domination.’”
“Isn’t that normal?” He laughs.
“Our normal,” I say. “And I like it.”
“Me too, sweetheart,” he agrees, kissing me a moment before we head into the living room where the walls are windows, and the newly minted night sky is speckled with city lights. Reese is standing at one of those windows, and Cat is just returning from the door. “Another case that the DA let go,” she says as we all sit down, me and Cole on a couch, while Reese grabs a chair, and Cat goes down on her jean-clad knees in front of the coffee table. “This paperwork is related to a case that proves the DA is all about the DA. An innocent man was charged and two more victims died before the DA finally looked for another suspect.”
Cole leans forward, on alert now. “Sounds like you’re launching a war against the DA.”
“Someone needs to,” Cat says, “but that’s what I wanted to talk to everyone about tonight.” The doorbell rings. “And that will be the pizza.”
“I’ll grab it,” Reese says. “But hold that thought, Cat. I want to be a part of this conversation.”
“How long ago was the case?” Cole asks.
“Two years ago,” she says. “Someone the DA got off without any damage. No one sued. Not even the guy who was charged and put through hell.”
“Sounds like a payoff to me,” Cole says. “Have you looked for a money trail?”
“Not yet,” Cat replies. “After writing the article about the DA mishandling your client, I got a tip on this from an anonymous source. I’m just digging in, but so far I think it’s a legitimate story.”
Reese returns with two large boxes and paper plates. “What did I miss?” he asks.
“I just told them about the tip I got,” Cat says. “As for war, I want to take him down. He’s supposed to protect people. He’s not, but if I do take him down, I risk making the firm a target. He could come at every case you represent in ridiculously harsh ways.”
I want to jump in and dismiss the risk. This has to happen, the DA has to go down, but this firm is Cole and Reese’s blood and sweat. And so, I suck in air and I wait while Cat and I share a look of understanding. This is on our men to decide. It has to be, to be fair to them. Cole looks at Reese and they have a silent exchange that is sho
rt but intense before they share a nod. “We’re doing this, then,” Reese says. “Let’s eat and talk about ruling the world that will be better minus a dirty DA.”
I reach over and take Cole’s hand and when he looks at me, I know my eyes are warm. He notices, his head tilting, a curious look in his eyes; a question I’ll answer later when I assure him his demons are not winning. He is. He already won his own. We won. He just doesn’t see it yet.
***
Cole
Normal.
That word stays with me the rest of the night while we visit with Cat and Reese. I want normal, I want to settle back in with Lori, but I don’t want a version of normal where she feels she has to be the same super-human she was when she met me. I don’t want a normal that includes that armor with me. And I did that to her with my box of fucking demons. In my need to protect her, I made her try to protect me. I’m going to fix that, and I’m going to start down that path tonight.
Well-fed and wined, we slip into the back of a hired car, and I pull her close, my hand on her leg. I never thought about kids until tonight, but with Lori, I want it all. Everything. Despite the punch in my chest when that test was negative, I’m grateful that she’s not pregnant yet. We need to learn us first. We need to get past this one damn case that hasn’t fully let us go, and travel a few more, just because we can. Because we’re us.
We don’t speak on the ride home, but the awareness between us is that palpable intense awareness I have known with no one but Lori. It’s like a burn that slowly consumes, demands, even takes, but you give yourself to it willingly. And that’s where I need Lori, where I almost had her, but she’s pulled back, and neither of us even saw it happen. That’s how much I was focused on how that attack affected me. What it made me feel when I was never what was important.
We arrive at the building and I help her exit, pulling her to me, my hands on her waist as I kiss her. “We’re home. Our home.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Our home.”
I lace my fingers with hers and we start walking when my cellphone buzzes with a text. I fight the urge to throw the damn thing, but I snake it from my pocket and read the message from Royce while we cross the lobby. Once we’re at the elevator, and actually, in the car, I stick my phone back into my pocket. “That was from Royce,” I say, keying in our floor. “He says there’s more to Ashley’s ex than meets the eye. He might be CIA. He can’t get a straight answer.”
Dirty Rich Cinderella Story: Ever After: Lori & Cole Page 10
