Breaching the Contract

by Chantal Fernando

  I miss him.

  I miss his kids.

  I even miss working with him, something I never thought I’d say.

  I just hope he finds his way back to me, and if not, I guess we were never meant to be in the first place.

  “I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU smile since Tristan left,” Hunter tells me, brow furrowing. “Everything will be okay, Kat. This is just a bump in the road.”

  “Biggest speed bump I’ve ever seen,” I grumble, glancing down at my phone, which has been extremely silent.

  “Tristan’s having a rough time, but when he comes out of it he’ll realize that he shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he tells me, sounding certain. “I’m helping him with everything, so don’t worry too much. Just hold on. Besides, there’s no way he can get someone hotter than you.”

  A small laugh escapes me. “I don’t know, Hunter. He’s just isolating himself. He doesn’t want me around him, and it’s such a new relationship I worry that it might be a little too easy for him to close the door on it, you know?”

  Maybe he wasn’t as invested in me as I was in him.

  I don’t know. In an effort to avoid it, I’ve been throwing myself into work.

  We won the Curtis case, which was the case that I pretty much handled entirely on my own. Between Jaxon being gone and Tristan MIA, it all fell on my shoulders. And then there was the Davensworth case. Once we told his biological father the truth, he dropped the charges against Mr. Davensworth, and his son admitted that he had framed him. And that was all me. I’m proud of myself, and I know Jaxon is super proud of me, but why does it feel like something is missing without Tristan?

  “If you truly believe that then maybe he’s not the one for you,” Hunter says, my hopes plummeting. “However, I think the two of you will sort it out. Tristan hardly likes anyone, and, Kat, he’s crazy about you. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  I force a smile. “Thanks, Hunter.”

  “No problem. And thank you for finally admitting that the two of you are fucking,” he says, grinning and walking out of my office while whistling.

  I cover my face with my hands and expel a deep sigh. Before, my deepest worry was that everyone would find out and I’d have to fight for my place in this industry, but now my deepest fear is that I’ve lost Tristan.

  I don’t care who knows.

  I just want him back.

  chapter 17

  HE COMES INTO MY office, and I’m surprised to see him. I didn’t know he was coming back to work today, and I sure as hell didn’t expect him to come see me. It’s been a whole week without any contact, not so much as a text message, and now he’s standing in front of me and I’m not sure what to say.

  “Hey,” he says, walking over to my desk. Do I hug him? Kiss him? I don’t know, so I don’t do anything. I sit there and wait for him to say something else. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. I wasn’t really on my phone much; I kind of went off the grid. I took the kids away for a few days, we went camping.”

  “Sounds nice,” I say, forcing a smile.

  Before, I would have been invited too, but now I’m not part of the family anymore. Still, this isn’t about me, it’s about him and it’s about Logan.

  “How are the kids?” I ask him, closing my laptop and giving him my full attention.

  “They’re good,” he says, nodding. “Logan doesn’t know about anything, so . . .” He trails off and then clears his throat. “And they had a great time going away. What have I missed while I’ve been gone?”

  Work? He wants to talk about work right now? Is he just going to ignore the fact that he forgot about me? Pushed me away? Because the elephant in the room isn’t going to leave until it’s addressed.

  “Nothing big,” I tell him, staring up at him. Just my heart breaking. “I heard that Franklin applied to the courts for the DNA test.”

  Tristan nods but says nothing else, so I don’t push.

  “Thank you for coming to see me,” I tell him, even though it feels so weird between us now. I don’t know what to say. I hurt for him, but I’m also a little bit upset with being pushed aside. Why won’t he let me be there for him?

  Doesn’t he get that when he hurts, I hurt too?

  He can’t make me love his family and then take them all away from me, himself included. It just doesn’t work like that, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  Does he even want to fix it?

  Yvonne comes into the room. “Tristan, your client is here, do you want me to tell them to wait in your office?”

  He nods. “Yes please, Yvonne.”

  She leaves, and we’re left alone and speechless again.

  “Can we talk later?” he asks, reaching his arm out, but then he drops it.

  “Sure,” I say, nodding.

  He leaves, and I exhale.

  I don’t know how we’re going to fix this, but I want to. So that means something, right? He just needs to understand that I’m in this with him. I care about those little kids, and I’m falling in love with him. If he doesn’t want me, it will be better to know now than later on.

  But I’m not going down without a fight.

  I’M WALKING TO MY car after work when he calls out my name. I turn and then he’s in front of me, his familiar scent filling me, consuming me.

  “We need to talk,” he says, cupping my cheek with his hand.

  I remove his hand from my face. “You’re pushing me away,” I tell him before he can say anything else. “You gave me you and your family, brought them into my life, and then when shit got tough, you took them all away. I’m either in or out, Tristan. I know you’re going through something really hard right now, but I want to be there for you. I don’t want to be on the outside looking in, especially if you’re in pain. I want to be there with you, during the good times and the bad. And if you want to be with me, you don’t get to choose when I’m in attendance.”

  I take a deep breath, and wait to hear his opposing statement, but all he does is tuck my hair back behind my ear and say, “I’m sorry.”

  I open my mouth, then close it. “You’re . . . sorry?”

  He nods. “I shouldn’t have shut you out. I’m sorry. You’re right, and thank you for giving me time alone to work everything out in my head.”

  I lick my lips. “So you still want us?”

  I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

  “Of course I want us, Kat. What we have between us, it’s worth fighting for; I know it in my gut. I just needed to clear some things in my head, things that didn’t have anything to do with you.”

  His wife.

  He kisses my forehead, then my nose. “Come home with me. Logan and Laura have been asking about you, and the house hasn’t been the same without you in it.”

  “What are we going to do about the Logan thing?” I ask him, pressing my body against his. “He’s going to get the DNA test.”

  “We will handle it when it happens,” he tells me, kissing the top of my head. “I don’t want to think about it today, I just want to hold you, and fucking thank you for picking up my slack while I’ve been gone. Yvonne and Hunter told me all the work you’ve been doing. Basically covered my ass, Kat.”

  “I’m a ride-or-die chick,” I say, making him chuckle.

  The sound is music to my ears.

  We go back to his place, and I get hugs from both kids.

  “Kat,” Laura says, wringing her hands together. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, sweetie,” I tell her, giving her a warm hug. “And you’ve cut your hair—it looks beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” She beams, sitting on the other side of me. “Is Dad cooking again?”

  “Yep, he insisted,” I tell her, then whisper, “I suggested pizza, but he needs to look after his body, you know.”

  She laughs
. “Healthy food is important to him.”

  We watch Hercules and then all have dinner together. In the back of my mind I have to wonder what will happen if Tristan ever pushes me away again. The closer I get to all of them, the more it will hurt, the harder it will be.

  But what’s life without a little gamble?

  And I can’t think of anything more worthy to gamble on than love.

  chapter 18

  Three Months Later

  I LOOK DOWN AT THE envelope in his hand, my nerves getting the better of me. I feel like I’m going to be ill. We’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like years, but in reality has only been a few months. I can’t imagine how Tristan feels right now, the emotions that must be swarming him. He’s so strong, and I’m so proud of him and how he’s been handling everything. He rips open the envelope, pulls out the piece of paper, and reads it. When I see the pain that transforms his face, I know the news isn’t good.

  “Logan is his,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I can’t believe it.”

  I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest, trying to stop the tears that are threatening to explode all over his T-shirt. He doesn’t deserve this. Why do bad things always happen to good people? We hug each other, silently, absorbing the information. I can only imagine how much this hurts, the fact that his wife had an affair in the first place, and that he’d been lied to all along. On top of all that, he now might lose the kid he loves as his own, the one he raised from birth. I don’t know what to say or do, because nothing will fix this, but I will be there for him, his strength and his support.

  “It doesn’t matter what the results said, Logan is your son,” I tell him, shaking my head. “It’s not over yet, Tristan.”

  “I know,” he says. He moves to stand between my legs and cups my face with his hands.

  “I can’t lose him, Kat. I don’t care whose son he is on paper,” he says, his voice catching on the end. “I raised him; I taught him everything he knows. He’s a part of me.”

  “You won’t lose him,” I promise him, kissing his forehead. “We will face this together, the legal hurdles, everything.”

  He rests his head on my breasts and closes his eyes.

  “Tristan?” I murmur.

  “Yes?” he asks, lifting his head.

  “We will win.”

  epilogue

  TRISTAN

  Three Years Later

  AS ALWAYS, WHEN LOGAN leaves with Franklin, it hurts. No, it kills. But he is his biological father, and he deserves to know him, even if it’s still me he calls his dad. He lives with me full-time, and I have officially adopted him, but Franklin has him one weekend of every month. It was a good outcome for me, because if he’d fought harder for more time with Logan, I don’t know who would have won in court. Courts tend to favor the biological parent, and I don’t like to think of the possible outcomes. Luckily for me, I think Franklin saw how much I loved Logan and knew this was the best thing for him. I also think he didn’t want to drag the court battle on, something Kat and I would have never given up on.

  “He’ll be back, love,” Kat says, smiling at me kindly. She’s wearing her business suit and looks sexy as hell, as always. She’s been such an asset to the firm, and I’m sure in no time her reputation will outshine mine and Jaxon’s. She’s a spitfire, with a heart of gold and the beauty of a goddess.

  She’s the love of my life.

  It’s funny how things work out, and I’m just thankful that we both took a chance on each other. After we made it public that we were together, we made sure it was known that she worked under Jaxon and not me, so there wasn’t any real conflict of interest.

  “Are you ready, Dad?” Laura asks, all dressed up for her monthly daddy-daughter date.

  “Ready,” I tell her, wondering when she became so beautiful. She looks just like her mother, but with my eyes. She’s growing into such a strong young lady, and I know that has a lot to do with Kat’s influences.

  I lean down and kiss Kat on the lips, then offer my daughter my arm. She takes it with a smirk, and I lead her to my car and open the door for her. She’s going to know how a man should treat her by the way she gets treated by me.

  Normally we’d be seeing a movie, or Laura will get her nails done while I wish she chose something else to do, but today is different.

  Today, we’re picking out the ring I will use to propose to Kat.

  “You sure you’re ready, Dad?” she asks as we climb in.

  “Never been more sure, princess.”

  We share a smile.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek of the next steamy installment in the Conflict of Interest series

  SEDUCING

  THE

  DEFENDANT

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  chapter 1

  JAXON

  A BODY HAS BEEN FOUND, dumped in the river waterfront, said police. Dental records show that it’s the body of Officer Darren Melvin who has been missing for the last two years.

  I lift my head from my book and watch as the camera zooms in on the river where the man’s body was found. I’ve been following this case ever since Officer Melvin went missing about two years ago, and now that they’ve found his body, the case can finally be classified as a homicide. I listen as the news reporter explains how Melvin had been shot in the head and how his body would’ve never been found if the city hadn’t decided to gentrify the waterfront park, something that has been a hot topic of late.

  I think I’ve been so interested in this one because my best friend is a cop and he’s always given these crazy, dangerous ­assignments—Melvin’s death could have just as easily been his. My friend and I have worked on a few things together before, but it feels like a long-ass time since I’ve seen or even thought about him. I’ve taken some time off work, but I don’t think it’s what I need. I should be burying myself in work, taking case after case, not leaving any time for my mind to wander.

  I glance at the marble-framed photograph on my bookshelf, studying the dark-haired beauty with green eyes. I’d give anything to see those green eyes again.

  My attention is brought back to the TV screen. Yeah, an idle mind is the last thing I need.

  I need to keep busy, distracted.

  I don’t need to think about anything other than work. I don’t need to remember.

  Melvin’s wife, heiress to Reyes Industries, Scarlett Reyes, has been charged with his murder, and was taken into custody after police found the same type of gun that killed Officer Melvin in her home. . . .

  My phone rings, and I’m not surprised.

  I’m one of the most sought-after criminal lawyers in town. I’m not bragging; it’s just a fact. So when my partner, Tristan, tells me that Scarlett Reyes has requested a meeting with me, it’s not a shock.

  “Are you going to take it?” he asks, and I can just picture him in his office, leaning back in his chair, eyes gleaming at the prospect of this controversial case. Our firm is known for taking on high-profile cases, we usually don’t turn down opportunities like this. “I know you’re meant to be taking a break, but I thought since she requested you . . .”

  “I want to speak with her first,” I tell him. “And consider me officially off my break.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks. “What you’ve been though, Jaxon—”

  “I know, Tristan, but sitting here isn’t helping. I need to keep busy,” I admit.

  He takes a deep breath, then continues. “This case is going to be huge, Jaxon. It’s going to be all over the media, and it might get messy. But if you win this . . . fuck.”

  If I win this case, my reputation as a criminal attorney will rise even higher. I’ll be sought after—more than I already am—and I’ll be paid whatever I want by
those willing to do, and pay, whatever they need to escape prison time. But do I want this case? Normally I wouldn’t have a problem defending someone whether they were guilty or not. But this case is different. Do I want to defend a woman who has potentially killed a cop, one of my best friend’s brothers? I won’t be able to decide until I meet her and see what she has to say for herself. I want to hear her side of the story. I’ll be able to get a good read on her if I’m there in person. And if she admits that she did kill her husband . . . I don’t know what I’ll do.

  “There’s no question it’ll get messy,” I tell him. “But it’s a challenge. . . .”

  I know that shouldn’t be the basis on which I accept a case, but damn, I like to be kept on my toes. I like to push myself, test myself. I like seeing how far I can bend the law in my client’s favor.

  “You do enjoy a good challenge,” Tristan murmurs, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ll handle the bail hearing. It’ll give you time to look at the case and see if you’re ready. I guess I’ll be seeing you soon then.”

  “I guess you will,” I say, and then tell him good-bye.

  I look back at the photo, my chest suddenly getting tight. I don’t have it in me to put the photo away or cover it, but every time I look at it, it hurts.

  It physically hurts.

  I absently rub my chest and stand, then head into my bathroom to have a quick shower, knowing I have to go to the office to do some reading. Once I’m ready, I glance around, looking for my keys. I keep my gaze down, making sure not to look in the direction of the photo. I find them next to my wallet on the kitchen counter, grab both of them and head outside to my car.

  I don’t need any more time off.

  I have a prospective client to meet.

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