by Kira Ward
I rolled onto my side when we were spent, and she matched my movements, curling up against my chest. Again, I wasn’t that kind of man. When I was done with a woman in my bed, I usually avoided the whole cuddling and talking thing. But I liked the way Eden felt in my arms.
She mumbled something against my chest, and the vibration of her words moved through me, but I didn’t hear a thing she said. I touched her forehead, urging her back.
“What?”
“Thank God for car accidents.”
I stared at her for an instant. And then I laughed harder than I had in years.
We lay there for a little while, both of us lost in our own thoughts. She rolled onto her side and pulled my arm under head, using it as a pillow as she ran her fingers slowly over mine. I did the same, losing myself in a pattern I repeatedly wrote on her ribs, allowing my fingertip to occasionally wander over the rounded edge of her breast.
“Do you think I’ll go to jail?” she asked suddenly.
“With me as your lawyer? No.”
“Seriously,” she said as though I was laughing again.
“Seriously.”
“I don’t even remember what happened that night. One minute, I was getting my keys from the valet, the next I woke up in the hospital and Daddy was telling me they had a blood alcohol test that said I was beyond drunk at the time of the accident.”
I kissed her temple lightly. “Do you think you might remember some things if I asked the right questions?”
“I don’t know.”
I ran my hand slowly down her side, my fingers playing over her hip. “Do you remember getting into the car?”
“I remember getting my keys from the valet. I remember the smell of my car.” She was quiet for a second. “I have a memory of pulling away from the curb in a hurry. I don’t remember why. Maybe I was just annoyed. Or maybe I saw that guy come out of the restaurant…”
“The bad blind date?”
“Yeah. Guy was a terrible bore. I don’t know what Jeannie must think of me to set me up with someone like that.”
“Jeannie. How come every bad thing that’s ever happened in your life has Jeannie’s fingerprints all over it?”
She chuckled even as she denied it. “Not everything.”
“Almost everything.”
“We’ve known each other since kindergarten. She’s my best friend.”
“She’s a harbinger of bad luck.” I tugged her closer against me. “Do you remember pulling into traffic?”
Eden closed her eyes, a deep sigh escaping. “I remember pulling away from the curb. And then…it’s just a jumble of images. A traffic light, my car radio…nothing specific.”
“Do you remember hitting your head?”
She reached up, almost instinctively, her fingers seeking the thin, red scar that ran from the right side of her forehead and disappeared deep into her hairline. Her eyes still closed, she was quiet for a long time. And then…
“I have this flash. But I don’t know…”
“Tell me.”
“I remember the light turning green. Then I remember my head snapping sideways.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “But that’s not possible, right? If I hit him, I must have hit my head on the steering wheel.”
“The air bag deployed. While it’s still possible you hit your head on a piece of the steering wheel, or something near the dash, I think it’s more plausible your head snapped sideways and you hit your head on the door.”
“You think he hit me?” she asked, wonder in her voice.
“I think it’s entirely possible.”
And it made more sense, overall. The damage to her car was consistent with a side impact. The injury on her head, the bruises on the left side of her body. The fact that the police failed to take pictures of the front of the Bentley the police commissioner’s kid was driving. And why the kid was in handcuffs when the second officer arrived.
“Do you remember the cop at the hospital?”
Eden rolled onto her back, her eyes moving over the ceiling like the answer might be tucked into the old popcorn design. Then she focused on me, her hand brushing over my jaw.
“I remember Daddy saying that there had been a cop, that he had the results of the blood alcohol test. But that’s all.”
“That’s another thing. Did you ever see those test results? They seem to have disappeared from all the files.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
I kissed the tip of her nose. “If you answer like that in court, they’ll laugh you out of there.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re not in court.”
She rolled into me, and I suddenly forgot what it was we were talking about.
Twenty
Eden
I could hear Crawford’s voice as I slowly surfaced back into the world of the awake. His voice—so deep and velvety—was like a lullaby that made me want to roll over, bury myself in his scent against the pillows. But it also made me curious. I wanted to know what was going on and who he was talking to.
I climbed out of bed and padded over to the master bathroom in the suite. Crawford had a light bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. When I finished my business, I slipped it on, loving the idea of something of his against my skin.
It was crazy. I’d known Crawford since…well, almost since I could remember. And I had such a crush on him when I was a teen. I thought it was just one of those things, something all teenage girls with a really hot stepbrother might go through. And then there was the whole fiasco with the kiss and the summer of the abortion. But when I saw him again…
My Dad would’ve flipped out if he knew where I was. He loved me and would probably give me just about anything I asked for. But Crawford and I… he wouldn’t understand. In his mind, we’re brother and sister just as if we’d been born from the same mother. In reality, there was no blood relationship, and I didn’t see anything wrong with it, but my Daddy was still a little old-fashioned.
And that thought was more than a little disturbing.
I dragged my fingers through my hair before slipping out into the living room. I hadn’t realized Crawford—who was fully dressed in a clean suit—wasn’t alone. But there was a beautiful girl sitting on the edge of the couch, her legs crossed in that sideways sort of way that some news reporters have where their legs aren’t really crossed, but laying on top of each other in an awkward sort of way. I always thought of it as a beauty queen style. She was wearing a short skirt and pale blouse, both of which were the faintest pink that made her caramel colored skin seem that much darker, that much more flawless.
Was it stupid of me to be standing there, wearing Crawford’s robe with jealousy storming through me?
I turned and went back into the bedroom, trying to move as quietly as possible so that the girl wouldn’t see me. But Crawford must have because he was suddenly behind me, grabbing my upper arm and turning me into him.
“Hey. I thought you were still asleep.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb whatever’s going on out there.”
“We were just talking about your case. Kendra was just telling me that she—“
“Kendra? Is that her name?”
Crawford’s eyes darkened, and then he suddenly began to laugh. A rush of hot anger burst through me, and I yanked my arm away, turning into the room in search of a dress I last remember being in a heap beside the bed.
“You’re jealous,” Crawford said hotly against my ear, the hand that slid around my waist holding my dress.
“I’m not.”
“Sure you are. You think Kendra and I are out there doing…what, exactly? You must think I’m some sort of bastard if you think I’d really have sex with another woman while you’re lying in my bed.”
“I didn’t think you were having sex.”
“Then what?”
I shrugged. “She’s just beautiful.”
It was hard for me to say. As stupid as it sounded, I wanted to be the most beautiful
woman in Crawford’s life. But seeing that woman—Kendra?—sitting in her beauty queen pose on the couch reminded me that he’s been living in a world where beautiful woman are a dime a dozen. She was in a class far beyond anything I could ever measure up to.
Crawford nuzzled against my neck. “She’s my personal assistant. If she’s beautiful I never really noticed it.”
“Liar.”
He chuckled again, but his hand was moving over my belly, sliding underneath the loosely tied belt of the bathrobe I was wearing. I closed my eyes and sighed, reaching back to pull his head closer to mine. All my jealous thoughts disappeared as he nuzzled my neck again, as his scent invaded my senses, as his hand found its way to a stiffened nipple.
“I love the feel of your body,” he whispered softly against my ear. “I love the way you sigh when I touch you. I love the smell of your hair, the taste of your lips, the ache being near you creates in my chest.”
I started to turn into him, my heart already pounding in anticipation of a kiss. But there was a pounding on the bedroom door just at that moment.
“Crawford?”
Even her voice was beautiful.
He groaned.
“We have a meeting with the prosecutor in a little over an hour,” he said as he gently pushed me away. “Go get dressed so that I might actually be able to put two thoughts together. Then I’ll take you home.”
“Getting rid of me?”
He just groaned again, catching me as I tried to walk past him to steal a kiss. And then he was gone, disappearing through the bedroom door to where she was. I climbed into the shower, unable to wipe away the smile that had fused itself to my face.
He wanted me. He’d made that pretty clear. And that made me feel like I was floating on a cloud. No one else had ever had the power to make me so angry, to make me so obsessed with a hurt, or make me feel so good with just a look. Crawford had always had that power over me. It was kind of nice to know that now that it went both ways.
* * *
* * *
“So…you brought your personal assistant with you,” I queried.
Crawford glanced at me, caution in his eyes. “She has family out here.”
“That’s convenient.”
“And she knows an accident reconstructionist I think might be able to help us prove you weren’t in the wrong.”
“How can he do that?”
He glanced at me again even as he expertly guided the car around a curve. “I think that kid hit you, not the other way around. And if that’s true, he can use the pictures of the accident scene and the damage on the cars to prove it.”
“And if he was at fault, he has to drop the civil suit, right? But how does that impact the DWI charge? I’ll still go to jail.”
“I’m working on that.”
I wanted to ask more, but Crawford had a tone that I knew better than to argue with. I sat back against the leather seat and sighed. I trusted Crawford. Everyone knew he was a brilliant lawyer. I had followed his career for nine years through news stories on the internet. I knew he’d won more cases than he lost. I knew he got a major technology executive off on a rape charge even though everyone was still convinced the guy did it. I knew he got another executive, some guy from Wall Street, off of a manslaughter charge. And I knew he’d taken the Texas bar to get an oil tycoon down in Houston off on an insider trading charge. There was no doubt in my mind that Crawford was a brilliant attorney.
But even the best attorneys lost a case every once in a while. I was deeply afraid that my case would be one of those.
As that thought floated through my mind, Crawford reached over and squeezed my thigh. I glanced at him and he was watching me. It was almost as though he knew exactly what I was thinking. I ran my palm over the back of his hand, pressing my fingers between his.
“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?”
I glanced at him, that goofy smile coming back. “Will I get to eat this time?”
He cocked his head slightly. “Not if you wear a dress like that one again.”
I blushed, not used to someone so openly admiring anything about me. But I liked it.
We pulled into my apartment complex—complex meaning a single building with three small apartments—a minute later. I wasn’t sure he had time to linger, but he got out and helped me out of the car, holding my hand as he led the way to my door. And then he tugged me into his arms, his lips warm on mine as he slowly, gently, kissed me goodbye.
“It’s going to be okay. I’m going to make this right for you.”
I pressed my face to his chest, sighing again. It would be just my luck to finally find a little happiness only to have it put on pause by a five-year jail sentence.
Crawford ran his hand over my back as I stepped out of the car, then pulled away, not looking back as he left.
An hour later, I was curled up on the couch in jeans with a good book when my father stuck his head in through the door. One of these days I’ll remember to lock-up my apartment.
“I heard Crawford’s back. I was wondering what’s going on with your case.”
I started to ask how he knew Crawford was in town, but realized I already knew. It’s such a small town. I’m sure the moment Crawford’s car pulled up to the building, half my neighbors—and anyone who saw him from the tiny grocery store across the street—was already on the phone with Dad.
“He’s meeting with the prosecutor as we speak,” I said, setting my book down and patting the couch beside me. “He says they want to set a trial date as soon as possible and he thinks it’s a good idea. He said he thinks we have a strong case.”
“That’s good, right?”
I shrugged. “I’m trusting Crawford.”
Dad slid his arm around me. “Crawford is a good man, Eden. He won’t let you go to jail if there’s anything he can do about it.”
“You’ve always be his strongest supporter.”
“He’s my son. I support him just as I do you.”
I turned my face away, hiding the weight that suddenly pulled my expression into something darker than he might have expected. What was Dad going to say when he found out that Crawford and I saw each other as more than siblings? What would he do when he learned that we were having sex?
I think that frightened me more than the thought of going to jail.
Twenty-One
Crawford
“We’re more than prepared to go to trial on that date,” I said, relishing the shock that filled the prosecutor’s eyes. He thought he was hitting me with a ton of bricks by suggesting a trial date less than ten days away. But he was actually giving us more time than I’d thought he would.
“You can take discovery with you when you go. I understand you’re from out of state?”
I nodded. “New York.”
“Are you a member of the Texas bar? If not—“
“I am.”
I surprised him again. That pompous fool thought he had me all figured out, but he was wrong. I liked that.
“Will there be pictures of the front of the Bentley in the discovery?”
The prosecutor’s eyebrows rose. “Why? The impact was on the—“
“It’s part of the car. I don’t know about Lubbock, but in most parts of the country, it’s customary to take pictures of the entire accident scene, including all angles of all cars involved.”
“I assume they will be there.”
“Good. Because they weren’t among the investigative photos we saw. I wouldn’t want to have to go to the press with the incompetency of the Lubbock Police Department.”
The prosecutor’s eyes narrowed. “I realize you come from New York City and things are different there. This is a smaller city; everything is a little more relaxed.”
“Yes, well, relaxed or not, I expect if you’re going to press charges against an innocent woman for something that was another party’s fault, you should have all your ducks in a row.”
I gestured to Kendra that I was ready to leave
. We stood, but the prosecutor was clearly not done yet.
“Your sister was legally drunk that night. Even if there’s damage on another part of the Bentley, that doesn’t negate what the blood tests show.”
“About those tests. I’d surely love to see them.”
“They should be in with the discovery.”
“I certainly hope so.”
I looked down my nose at the prosecutor, causing him to squirm in his chair before he stood, rising to his full height—which was barely five two compared to my six two—his eyes narrowed.
“We do everything by the book here.”
“Then we shouldn’t have a problem.”
I walked out of the office and nearly ran into a young man with a hand truck filled to the top with boxes. Kendra’s eyes widened slightly, and I gestured for her not to comment. We led the way downstairs and watched as the young man fit most of the boxes in the trunk of my rental, the rest shoved into the back seat. It wasn’t until we were alone, negotiating downtown traffic, that she finally voiced the comment that was clearly written in her eyes.
“That’s a heck of a lot of stuff for a case like this.”
“They threw every piece of paper they could find at us, hoping the excess would slow us down. It’s a tactic I’ve used myself.”
“What are we going to do with it all?”
I thought about it for a second, realizing we only had one real choice. “We’re going to take it to my parent’s place and see if Mom and her bridge club will be willing to sort it out for us.”
And, of course, mother was thrilled. The moment we pulled into the yard, she was on the front step, waving. There was interest in her eyes when she saw Kendra, but I wasn’t as quick to squash it as I might have normally been. If she wanted to believe I had something going on with Kendra, maybe she wouldn’t be as quick to notice the change between Eden and I.
We unloaded the boxes and arranged them around the dining room, my mother absorbing my quick instructions and taking control as I had hoped she would. Mom is definitely the kind of person who’s always organized and quick to take over when she sees a task that needs doing. Within an hour, three of the boxes were already empty, the materials inside placed in carefully ordered piles.
