by Brynne Asher
“He’s on a call, but I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“I’m in no hurry.” I adjust my skirt and cross my legs after parking myself across from Trig’s assistant’s desk. If I have to sit here all day, I will. He’s been screening my calls and his assistant has gone out of her way to make sure I’m not in need of legal representation, which I’m not.
Yet, I sort of am.
Fifteen minutes tick by. Then twenty.
Finally, Trig’s door opens. I glance at the clock on my phone and he’s kept me waiting for twenty-three minutes. He’s standing there looking all kinds of rumpled-professional—no tie, two buttons undone at the neck, and his sleeves are rolled up his forearms.
He tips his head and his icy blue eyes narrow. “Did you get arrested again?”
I stand and don’t answer that question but I do tell him the truth. “You’re an asshole for not taking my calls.”
He crosses his arms. “You can add it to the list. I hear it’s a long one.”
Tucking my clutch under my arm I move to his office and look at Trig’s assistant. “Hold his calls, please.”
He shifts so I have room to pass and corrects me, “Don’t hold my calls. Put them all through. I don’t care if it’s my dry cleaner or the dog groomer—”
“You don’t have a dog, Trig. Give it up.”
He shuts the door and heads straight to a mini-fridge. He pulls a bottle of water out, cracks it open, and downs half of it without offering me a beverage. With the amount we pay in a retainer fee, he should offer to run to Starbucks for me.
He shrugs. “I could have a dog.”
I sit in a leather chair across from his desk and roll my eyes. “You don’t have a dog. Hell, you don’t even have a yard. You drive a Benz G Class—which, by the way, very nice choice—but you’ve also kept your circa early eighties pickup truck. And, you ended the only meaningful relationship you’ve had in … well,” I throw out my hand, “you know when, over a year ago. Since you’ve been back in Texas, you only work and spend time with your mother. Maybe you should get a dog.”
He moves to his desk and leans back in his big leather chair. “Not making enough as CFO? You taking on some part-time PI work?”
I shake my head. “I also looked into your background while you worked in corporate law and your success rate as a white-collar defense attorney. I basically know all the things. I am sleeping with an FBI agent, remember?”
“How could I forget?” He puts his hands behind his head. “Your secret affair with the special agent made me feel like I was representing a reality TV show personality, not someone who usually graces the pages of The Wall Street Journal.”
I ignore that. “I have an offer.”
He hikes a brow. “An offer?”
I open my clutch, pull out the thick blank envelope, and slide it across his desk. “For you.”
He frowns but sits up and unfolds the ten-page document. I watch his frown deepen as he flips through the pages. When his icy blue eyes hit me again, the words come at me as an accusation. “This is a job offer.”
“I know. I wrote it myself.”
“No fucking way will I ever work for Kipp Montgomery.”
I give him a little shrug. “That’s good because you’ll be working for me. As of last week, my father is officially retired and I’m CEO.”
He leans back in his chair. “That’s news.”
“No, it’s not. At least not yet. We’re getting things in order and a formal announcement will be made next week. With,” I pause because there’s no way I’d mention Robert’s name in Trig’s presence, “certain people now out of the picture, I’m doing a slight reorg, not to mention, I still haven’t replaced Patrick. It weighs on my conscience that I have to, but I suspect it always will.”
“What made Kipp put himself out to pasture now?”
“My mother,” I answer. “And me. It was time. If he wanted me to take over, he needed to let me do it. I won’t be any more ready in five years. He knows this—even though giving up control is hard for him—and stepped aside.”
Trig sighs. “I have a job.”
“I’m offering you a better one. Don’t miss the bonus structure I threw in.”
“I also have a non-compete.”
“Which is null and void when it comes to Montgomery Industries. I spoke with Scott Lehman yesterday. Apparently, our retainer means more to them than you do. Scott assured me if you felt like making a shift back into corporate law, they’d buy the going-away cake, throw in some ice cream, and wish you well.”
Trig runs a big hand down his face and shakes his head. “What are you doing, Jen?”
I stand. “I need a lead attorney and I want you.”
“No,” he goes on. “I mean, what are you doing?”
I look down at him and tell him the truth. From the soles of my Manolo Blahniked feet, I mean it when I say, “I’m righting wrongs and getting business done at the same time.”
“Not everyone is going to be happy about this.”
We both know who he’s talking about and I don’t give a shit. “Read the offer. Consider it.” I pick up his plastic water bottle. “MI just bought a business that manufactures countertops and carpet from recycled plastics. As of last week, MI is a plastic free zone. I’ll buy you a Yeti. Pencil it into your contract.”
“Jen,” he calls but I’m already on my way out. When I stop and turn, he lifts his chin. “Noticed the ring. Congratulations.”
I look down at my left hand at the ring Eli put there two days ago. The diamond is small and the band is thin. It was also his grandmother’s and I wouldn’t want anything else. He slid it onto my finger after he made love to me and told me I was his forever and I’d just have to get used to it.
That will not be a hardship.
He’s yet to accept my job offer to take over global security for my company, but he hasn’t turned me down yet, either. He’s still thinking on it.
I’m his and he’s mine. That’s all that matters. He can take all the time he wants.
But, Trig, on the other hand, cannot. “Think it over. I needed a lead counsel last month. You’ve got the weekend. I look forward to talking to you on Monday.”
He says nothing.
“I read that dog owners are less asshole-ish than those without a four-legged friend. Consider it. You could use all the help you can get.”
His lips tip on one side. “Fuck you.”
“It’s good to see that, under your professionally-tailored dress shirts, you’re the same old Trig.”
He smirks. “And you’re the same obnoxious Jen.”
“I could still kick your ass in a barrel race.” I turn to leave and call over my shoulder. “I look forward to your call on Monday.”
*****
Eli
“Pettit.”
I throw the last box into the bed of my truck but, let’s face it, I don’t have much anyway. The benefit of having nothing when you find the woman who you want to spend the rest of your life with is that the rest of your life starts sooner than later because you hardly have any shit to move.
I look over and squint through the sun. It can’t be.
“Cain? Grady Cain?”
It’s like he came out of nowhere.
I met Grady in Virginia. His woman was mixed up with the MacLachlans and, in the end, he helped take down MacLachlan’s son, Weston.
I looked into him during the investigation since he was connected to Weston’s ex-fiancée. He was an Army Ranger who was discharged years ago and then, he was gone. Totally fell off the radar for years. Even I couldn’t find anything on him and I can dig up anyone’s shit.
Hell, I just did it for Jen with her attorney, which is really against the code since Easton Barrett isn’t under investigation—but that’s me, treading water in that gray area between true north and magnetic north.
They did drop my OPR case, even though I got a warning letter for my file, but I find myself giving fewer shits t
han I usually do, and that’s saying something since I didn’t give many to begin with. This has all caused me to think about my professional future.
Grady walks between two older cars and offers me his hand. “You moving?”
We shake but I don’t elaborate. “Yeah.”
“You’re getting settled in Texas?” he asks.
“You could say that.”
“Checked up on you not too long ago and you were in a bit of a situation with the Bureau.”
I tip my head. “You’re checking up on me?”
He shrugs and stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets. “You got a second to talk? I’ve got an offer I’d like to pitch.”
I only hesitate for a second because curiosity gets the best of me. “Come on up. There’s still a place to sit but I haven’t lived here in months so I have nothing to offer you to drink. The place is pretty much empty.”
Grady nods. “I’m not a drinker anyway.”
After we get to my apartment, Grady proceeds to talk for an hour straight.
I listen.
And what he tells me blows my mind.
Fuck.
Talk about an offer.
*****
Jen
Eli walks through the door balancing two boxes. “This is all of it.”
He was supposed to be here more than an hour ago but texted and said something came up. He moved the rest of his stuff in last night. He’s officially here even though he’s been here every night since we got together.
We haven’t set a wedding date. My mother is trying to make plans for another wedding extravaganza at the ranch that will make Cam’s look like a Chuck E. Cheese’s birthday party. Eli’s mom has called repeatedly with dates their priest is free in Chicago. We’ve been getting daily updates and now I think I know the priest’s schedule better than my own.
It all makes me sick to my stomach and Eli roll his eyes. If there were ever two people who don’t enjoy the spotlight, it’s us, so we’ve made no plans. We just know we’re together and everyone else can pretend to plan our wedding. We’ll do what we want, when we want.
And right now, we enjoy being here, by ourselves. I don’t know how long we’ll stay here in this downtown condo but, for now, it’s our sanctuary. Besides my work travel, we either order in or make dinner together. We workout together—well, Eli works me out since he’s declared himself my very own personal trainer—then we shower and reward ourselves in more satisfying ways than punching a bag.
I go to him where he’s dropped his last boxes on the dining table and lift up on my bare toes to put my lips on his. “Hi. What kept you late?”
He pulls out a dining chair and sits, pulling me onto his lap. I settle in and am not prepared for what he tells me. “A blast from the past showed up today.”
I tip my head. “What does that mean?”
“A guy I met at the end of the MacLachlan case. I never really knew what he did for a living. He showed at my apartment out of the clear-fucking-blue and now I know what he does for a living.”
I frown this time. “What are you talking about?”
He hesitates, but something is smoldering behind his dark eyes. “He made me an offer, Jen. A job offer—a damn intriguing one.”
I don’t like the way that sounds for many reasons. I can’t even order them in my head by importance because I already hate every single one of them. “Doing what?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t get into it, but now I know why the guy knows all he does and, baby, it’s fucked-up. But fucked-up in a way that’s exciting.”
All of a sudden, my appetite disappears. I feel sick. “Where is this job?”
He gives me a squeeze. “Not in the US.”
Now I’m going to be sick for sure. “Oh.”
“And I can’t stop thinking about your offer.”
My eyes lift to his but this time I have no words. I don’t know whether to be hopeful or dread what he has to say next.
He softens his voice. “Baby, as much as it kills me to say no to you, I can’t work for your company.”
I drop my eyes to my fingers and realize I’m twisting his shirt. I let go and smooth the fabric I’ve mangled and nod. I suppose I could beg and plead, but guilting him into doing something he doesn’t want to do isn’t me.
It isn’t us.
I shake my head and have to work for it, but I school my voice. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“I can’t even tell you about the other job. I had to sign a confidentiality agreement just to hear the offer.” I nod and bite my lip. He gives me a shake. “Hey. I’m not taking the other job, either.”
This time I do sound desperate. Or maybe pathetic. Really, it’s both, and pathetically-desperate is a new low for me. “You’re staying at the FBI?”
He shakes his head. “I’m done. After working undercover and living through the shit we did, I need a change. I’ve been thinking on it for a long time. I’m going to start a business. Investigations and security. I need more of a challenge than just working for one company. You want to contract my services, I’ll give you a bid.”
All the tension and then some melts away, taking my muscles with it. I slump in his arms that tighten around me, supporting me like they always do. “I was so worried you’d take a job that would take you away from me.”
“Told you you were mine. That means I’m here and you’re stuck with me. I’m not leaving you for months at a time which is what the offer today consisted of. I’m also not willing to let the Bureau move me again. I’m ready for us to find our simple, not make shit more complicated.”
I fall into his chest. “I know, but you had me worried.”
“You think you might consider outsourcing your security?”
I push away from his chest only to find him smirking. He knows he can start his business with one big-ass client in Montgomery Industries. I smile and shrug, lying, “I don’t know. I’ll have to look over the proposal. Maybe I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Your company’ll never be safer. That, I promise. If I do nothing else for the rest of my days, I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
I nod and sink into him. With one hand in my hair and the other on my ass where I love it, he kisses me.
He’ll do anything for me—I know it.
He’s already killed for me.
And I know for a fact, if he had to, he’d do it again.
Epilogue
Power Couple
One year later…
Jen
Oh, shit.
I see nothing but stars behind my lids. I think my toes are even tingling.
I moan and writhe but he doesn’t let up. His tongue, lips, and fingers work between my legs, sending me straight to another world where there’s nothing but orgasms and kickass shoes—a place where carbs don’t count and wine flows like water.
It’s like this after every session at the gym. Like we haven’t burned off enough calories and the workout itself is foreplay—which, in some ways, it is. Eli’s hands on me, his eyes focusing on nothing but me. I get to watch his body move and flex in every way that makes my heart pound faster and clench tighter.
Our sweat mingling.
Then a shower and then this.
Working the day out of our system—the stresses and even the triumphs, because the latter has been outweighing the former lately, for both of us.
Statum Security and Investigations has been up and running for almost ten months. Starting a company isn’t easy and doesn’t come without growing pains. He ended up renting space from Ellie in her new building. Her plans came to a halt for a few months after everything went down with Robert and she said the new building was too big for her anyway. It also doesn’t hurt that Eli works close to her. That makes her feel safe and gives me warm fuzzies—how my family has welcomed my husband with open arms.
Even my dad.
I knew he’d come around. He always does, even if it takes a decade in some cases.
&nbs
p; MI might’ve been his first client but it wasn’t long before work started lining up. Business is booming and my man—who values his privacy as much as I do—couldn’t be happier working for himself. He doesn’t miss the FBI one bit.
Bree is rotting away in prison. Her OPR investigation was the least of her worries. She’s serving two consecutive hard forty sentences for capital murder.
My former brother-in-law and controller has been wiped from the face of the planet. There’s nothing more to be said about him.
Ellie is … better. In fact, I think she’s on her way back to where she was years ago when she was at her best. Her happiest.
We see Eli’s parents every couple weeks. Sam’s health has plateaued thanks to some aggressive medications. Although the dementia is as bad as it was when I met him, we still get glimpses of the old him. When that light shines in his eyes, his family—including me—cherishes it with full and happy hearts. He’s safe in the new home Eli bought for them along with full-time healthcare. Bonnie volunteers part-time now.
Me? I’m CEO of Montgomery Industries, doing the job my father raised me to do. We’re upping industry standards when it comes to environmental regulations and have delved into creating clean energy, which has become my passion.
In addition to my husband, that is. Eli will always be my first passion.
Life is good.
Actually, life just got better.
Now I have a new passion that just rose to the top of my list.
“You came so hard, I’ll taste you on my lips ‘til tomorrow morning.” He flips me over as I pant, my wet hair sticking to my face and shoulders. He raises my hips and climbs onto the bed, slamming into me.
I fist the crumpled sheets from the unmade bed beneath me and brace. I love that he gets as worked up as I do. That he needs me just as much as I need him.
His fingers pinch at my hips, pulling me to meet his every thrust. Feeling his power and force, all his muscles taking what he needs while keeping me where he wants me, is like living in my own personal heaven created just for me by the mightiest of all the prophets—my Elijah.
