Dirty Rich Cinderella Story: Ever After: Lori & Cole

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “The CIA doesn’t intimidate,” Royce warns.

  Lori speaks up, “But they might not know what we know. And they might not want everything they think we know public.”

  And there’s the reason she was made for a courtroom. She knows how to find an angle.

  “I’m on it,” Royce says, hanging up.

  “And now we wait,” I say.

  “No,” Lori says. “Let’s go to her apartment. She came back from Paris, where she was with this man, who was her fiancé. Maybe there’s something there that tells us what’s really going on.”

  Another good idea that has me standing up. “I’ll have Royce’s team get us in.”

  “We’ll sit this one out,” Reese says. “But I’m still waiting for that friend of mine that has a CIA contact. I’ll let you know if he calls.”

  ***

  It turns out that Smith has a key to Ashley’s place because of his part as her security detail. He meets us at her apartment and Lori and I wait impatiently while he unlocks the door. Lori squeezes my hand as he opens it as if she expects some kind of shock. Smith enters first and curses. “Holy fucking hell.”

  I enter behind him and curse right along with him as Lori whispers, “Oh my God.”

  The apartment is empty. As in completely empty.

  Smith pulls his phone from his pocket and I hear, “Royce. Her apartment is wiped.” He listens a few beats and then disconnects. “Either she’s been put in witness protection or they really think she knows something or has something they need. They weren’t taking any chances they’d miss it.”

  There is a dark spot forming in my chest, a heaviness on my shoulders. Ashley has no one in this world. I was supposed to protect her. Lori wraps her arms around me and looks up at me. “This isn’t your fault.”

  I stare down at her, this woman who is my life, afraid that one day I will fail her as I have Ashley and I know this is a dangerous place for my mind to go. These demons are halfway back in their box. They need to go back in and stay in.

  “It’s the CIA, man,” Smith says softly, and when my eyes meet his he says, “You didn’t do this. You didn’t cause this. And she’s alive. I will make the promise to you now that I’ll keep her that way. I’ll find her.”

  There is something raw and emotional in his words, a sense of personal with Ashley that I’ve seen hints of before, that I am now certain runs deeper than a mere flirtation. They’ve bonded. He cares. He’s in her corner right along with us. “I’ll hold you to that. Let us know if you hear anything. Right now, I need to take my wife home.” I wrap my arm around Lori’s shoulders and walk toward the door, wasting no time walking us into the hallway.

  We are already walking toward the elevator when Lori asks, “Does he have your direct cellphone number?”

  I stop walking. “Good question.” I kiss her. “Let me run back and make sure.” Eager to get my wife alone, and be home, I hurry back to the door, and open it to find Smith leaning on the window, his hands pressed to the glass, head low, torment rolling off of him. It hits me then that he must feel responsible. He was protecting her.

  He shoves off the glass and turns to look at me. “They walked in and took her. You didn’t do this.” I tell him.

  “I should have taken her underground. I felt it in my bones. I ignored it.”

  “She wouldn’t have let you,” I say.

  “If I decided to take her underground, I wouldn’t have given her an option any more than they did, only now it’s them, not me.”

  I don’t say more. I can’t say more. I get it. I know what he feels. It’s a small piece of what I have felt with Lori’s attacks. “You have my number?”

  “Yes. I have your number.”

  We stand there several beats, staring at each other and I turn and exit. Lori is waiting for me at the door, and I grab her, pull her to me and say, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispers, and then I don’t care where we are. My mouth slants over hers, and I’m kissing her, hard and deep, possessiveness in every lick, stroke, and taste. I need to feel my wife. I need to know she’s alive and well. And I need out of my head, to lose myself in every part of her. I tear my mouth from hers and lace my fingers with hers. “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Cole

  Lori and I slide into the hired car waiting on us just outside of Ashley’s building, and neither of us speak, not with the driver present. For me, the silence is both welcome and torture at the same time. There’s an explosion brewing in me and only when Lori covers my hand on my leg do I realize how hard I’m squeezing it. I look at her and her green eyes cut through the shadows, understanding in their depths. She knows that I’m torturing myself right now. She knows that I’m blaming myself. No one in this world has ever known me well enough to know what I’m feeling. There was a period in my life, not so long ago, that I didn’t want anyone to know me this well.

  By the time we’re in the thankfully empty elevator, the edge I’d felt in the car is growing sharper, while my thoughts are not. I pull Lori to me, her back to my front, willing this feeling under control. I don’t go dark often. I don’t let myself ever have that little control, but the past two weeks have hit one of my hotspots, caring about people that can end up gone. Lori doesn’t let me escape. She twists in my arms. “Cole—”

  I cup her head and pull her mouth to mine. “Don’t talk.” I kiss her with a deep stroke of my tongue, and I feel her shock, her temporary surprise before she moans and melts into me, but she knows. She sees what I’m doing. I don’t want to talk. I want to fix things. I want Ashley back. I want to keep her safe. I want to get this edge off and that means I need my wife, now.

  The elevator dings and I take her hand, leading her from the car, toward our apartment. I don’t look at her. I don’t want those pretty, all-knowing eyes to compel me to talk. I open the door and lead us inside and the minute I pull Lori into our apartment, my mouth is on hers again, and it’s not a gentle kiss. It’s a deep, intense, passion that is all about taking, burying, fucking. I want and need one thing right now and it all comes back to her. The taste of her, the sound of her pleasure, the heat of her body next to mine.

  I let her know. With my mouth, my hands. The rough, impatient way I tug at her clothes, and peel away my jacket, but outside of unzipping my pants, I’m focused on her. I want her naked and that’s where this goes. Her in her high heels, thigh highs and nothing else. Me turning her to the door, pressing her against it and smacking her backside. My fingers caressing her sex, tweaking her nipple, sinking inside her, and then finally, I turn her to face me again. I’m not even sure which one of us pulls my cock from my pants, but it’s not soon enough. I drag her leg to my hip and I press into the slick heat of her body that is absolute-fucking-heaven. I don’t even think about waiting. I don’t want to go slow or be gentle. I drive into her, thrusting hard and fast. She gasps and closes her fingers around my shirt sleeves, while I lean in and kiss her, a deep, possessive taking that has me lifting her.

  Her knees are at my hips, my hand cupping her backside, while the other splays between her shoulder blades. She is gripping my shirt again and I shackle her hips, urging her to lean back, to take more, to know that I will hold her, that I won’t let her fall, to trust me. She does it without hesitation, arching her back even as she leans away from me while pressing into me. We are frenzied, wild, fierce, and when she stiffens, that look of ultimate anticipation on her face, I drag her to me and hold her close. She shatters around me, milking my cock with hard spasms, and I go along for the tumble into release right along with her. She trembles and I quake, and somehow we end up on the ground, me against the wall, and her in my lap, collapsed on top of me.

  I hold her and seconds, maybe minutes, tick by before she whispers, “We’ve never had front door sex. That worked for me. How about you?”

  I laugh. “Yes, sweetheart. It worked for me.”

  She presses o
n my chest and leans back to look at me. “Did it?”

  “Yes,” I assure her, realizing now how much less on edge I am. “No one else could take me from where I was to laughing about front door sex but you.”

  “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

  “I’m still inside you. Is this really the best time to have this conversation?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s the only way to have this conversation based on how you were in the car.”

  My lips curve. “Well, every conversation is better when I’m inside you, but if we stay like this long enough we won’t be talking.”

  “You aren’t that fast,” she teases. “Pretty fast sometimes, but—” She sobers. “Cole—”

  I pull her to me and kiss her. “I know it’s not my fault, but Ashley has no one in this world. Somehow, when I wanted to have no one in this world, I have you, and with you I seem to have realized I have a richer life in the way of people I care for than I realized.” I kiss her temple and stand up with both of us, my hamstrings burning with the effort to the point I moan.

  “You should put me down.” Lori laughs when I start walking.

  “I don’t want to put you down,” I say and it’s true. Holding her and staying inside her the rest of the night sounds pretty damn good.

  Inevitably though, I do set her down once we’re in the bathroom at the sink where I hand her a towel and grab her robe from behind the door. “How about a pizza?”

  “Okay,” she says, slipping on her robe.

  I kiss her and help her to the floor. I grab my phone and place our order with a late-night joint we know well. In the process I walk to the bedroom and ultimately the window, overlooking the starless dark city. I’ve just stuck my phone back in my pocket when Lori appears by my side, stepping between me and the glass, where she leans on the clear surface. “I get it,” she says. “A life rich in people means you can lose those people. You know how I feel about this. Death is that thing you can’t control. I can’t control it. It’s terrifying. It’s why I panic when my phone rings, for fear it’s about my mother again.”

  “I can’t believe I’ve never asked you about that story,” I say, my hand settling on her waist. “How did you find out about your father and your mother?”

  “With my father, I was in the law school library when a security guard came and got me, of all people. I knew when he stopped by my side that it was bad. I knew. They took me into an office and a nurse had to tell me because my mother was incapable of speaking.” She cuts her gaze and I can almost feel her lose her breath before she looks at me. “I had to be strong. She was—she was bad.”

  “When did you cry?”

  “I don’t remember when I cried, Cole. I know I did, but it wasn’t at the funeral. I found this cold spot to live inside.”

  “What about your mother’s stroke?”

  She inhales and lets it out. “In the middle of a mock trial. The teacher pulled me aside. The trip to get from school to the city was hell.”

  My forehead settles on hers. “You’re never going to be alone again. I promise.”

  She leans back to look at me. “You can’t promise that. I can’t promise that to you either, so let’s just promise that we are going to crazy love each other every single second.”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice low, rough. “Every second.”

  Her fingers curl on my jaw. “Ashley is alone. You’re right. We have to help her. But how?”

  “How,” I repeat when a thought hits me.

  “Houston.”

  “What about Houston?”

  “I don’t know. It just feels like an answer. It’s where she’s from. It’s where she met her fiancé.” I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Royce, placing him on speaker.

  “Nothing new,” he says.

  “I assume you’d looked for details on the fiancé in Houston?”

  “Yes. His apartment is empty. It’s a dead end.”

  “Her friends in Houston might know something,” I suggest.

  “What friends?” Royce asks.

  “Hell if I know, but I’m in between cases. I need to go down there anyway. I’ll see what I can find out.” I arch a brow at Lori and she nods. “We’ll go to Houston in the morning.”

  “I have a man in Houston. He can meet you.” We disconnect.

  “We have a plan,” Lori says. “We go to Houston. A plan feels good.”

  “Houston it is,” I say, and for the first time, Lori and I will face one of the reasons I left Houston: My dead father and my past, but I welcome this. Tonight, we’ve proven we still have much to learn about each other and embracing every second together means holding nothing back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Lori

  We wake to no news about Ashley at all.

  By ten in the morning, I’m already dressed in a blue suit dress and Cole is in a perfectly fitted blue pinstriped suit, looking good enough to eat. Unfortunately, there is no time for me to show him how much I approve. By eight, we’re seated on a private jet to Houston. Once we’re settled into our seats, I let the magnitude of the words “private plane” hit me. “Are the skills of these pilots regulated?” I ask.

  Cole laughs and laces his fingers with mine. “Our pilot is an ex-special ops guy. I’ve flown with him. We really do need to consider flying lessons for you.”

  “No,” I say. “I’m fine.”

  His cellphone rings, while a flight attendant offers us coffee that I eagerly accept, as does Cole. “Alex,” he says. “Yes. We’re coming to you for unexpected reasons. I still want you to meet Reese and see the offices, but if you can do dinner tonight I can make sure it’s worth everyone’s time for you to come to New York.” He listens a minute. “Yes. We’ll leave Friday morning so you can hitch a ride if you want to. I have a private plane.” I doctor my coffee my way, as he adds, “Yes. Perfect. We’ll see you there.” He disconnects. “Dinner tonight at a spot by the courthouse. He’s in court this afternoon.”

  “How do you know Alex?” I ask, sipping my coffee as he does the same.

  “We met at a judge’s retirement party, and we both had a challenge with a particular ADA. We ended up exchanging notes and we became friends. Not close friends, but friends. He’s a good guy, and a killer in the courtroom.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “How long has he been practicing and where?” I ask.

  “Since he graduated, and he went with a big firm but left to work on his own two years ago. That’s not always easy going. It takes money to operate, and it can pressure you into taking cases you don’t want to take.”

  “And that’s been an issue for him?”

  “Yes,” he says, “and why so many questions?”

  “You and Reese are perfect together. I just don’t want a third wheel to mess with the mojo.”

  He laughs and kisses me. “You and Cat protect our mojos, but thank you, sweetheart. We need Alex and he’ll be in Houston anyway.”

  “But partners make decisions.”

  “He won’t be a controlling partner. At least not initially.” He sobers. “I don’t want to be in Houston and I might have suggested you be a backup for that office, but I don’t want you in Houston, either. Not if it can be avoided.”

  There is something dark and turbulent in his stare. I reach out and touch his cheek. “I’m thankful to get to see this part of your life, Cole.”

  “The past. You’re seeing the past, Lori.”

  “I know, but it’s still a part of you.”

  “It’s the past,” he says again. “You, now, you’re the future.” The engine revs to life and before I can ask anything else, Cole kisses me, and the plane is moving. In a matter of minutes, we’ve lifted off, on our way to Houston. On our way to Cole’s life before me.

  ***

  Cole

  Once we arrive in Houston, we settle into a hired car. “Once we get to the o
ffice,” I say, “I’m going to have to deal with the asshole running the place into the ground.”

  “I’ll introduce myself around and see who knows what about Ashley,” Lori offers.

  “I hate that I don’t know more about who she was friends with.”

  “Trials are consuming, Cole,” she reminds me. “You knew about the man in her life. It was a whirlwind romance. I doubt anyone knows him. From what we know, he wasn’t someone that let that happen unless he wanted it to happen.”

  ***

  Lori

  He doesn’t respond and I understand. If I were in his place, I’d blame myself, too. Cole and I are alike in this; we need to protect those around us. I love that he wants to protect me, but I will never let him hold the world up alone, just as the recent days have taught me that Cole will never allow me to hold it up on my own either.

  A few minutes later, we step inside the Houston high-rise that houses the offices and when we exit to the lobby, I stop as I stare at the name Summer and Brooks etched into the wall, with a list of partners beneath it. “Did it used to say Brooks and Brooks?”

  “No,” Cole says, his hand settling between my shoulders. “My father would never have shared that honor with me or anyone. And I didn’t want my name on the wall while he was in charge.” He turns to face me, his hands on my shoulders. “I’m not him,” he says solemnly.

  “I know that.”

  “You will hear stories.”

  “About you or him?”

  “Him.”

  “Then why do I sense there is more?”

  “It’s hard to hear what a monster he was, and not wonder if it’s in the blood.”

  “I don’t plan on gambling away all of our money like my father. I’m quite confident you don’t plan on becoming an arrogant ass.”

  “Now I’m not arrogant? Because you said I was.”

  “Okay,” I concede, “you are, in fact, arrogant, but lovably so and if you act like an ass, I’ll kick you in yours.”