VERSUS

by Deborah Bladon

  I spent most of the morning with a client who is nearing the finish line on his seventh divorce.

  I sat in his office uptown and listened when he went on about the unflattering traits of his estranged wife. I didn’t interrupt him when he repeatedly brought up the names of his fifth and sixth ex-wives.

  He needs a chart just to keep of what he doesn’t like about the women he once loved enough to marry.

  After two hours of that, I cut in to tell him that I had all the information I needed.

  What I really had was zero patience left.

  I’m good at what I do, but some cases wear on me.

  That’s one of them.

  He’ll never take my advice not to get married again. I’m here the next time he needs me. I’m betting that will be within the next eighteen months.

  “Mr. Colt,” Gunner says my name just as he raps his knuckles against the doorframe of my office.

  I didn’t jump this time because I heard him coming down the corridor. I threatened to buy bells for his shoelaces if he didn’t start warning me of his impending arrival.

  Since then, he’s become heavy-footed; stomping out his steps to alert me that he’s on his way to interrupt my day.

  “What is it?” I ask back in a clipped tone.

  “Is something bothering you, sir?”

  Someone is bothering me. On any other day, Gunner would be that someone, but today the title belongs to Chet Richmond.

  I Googled the hell out of him last night.

  I was up to the wee hours, reading everything I could find on the model-turned lawyer.

  Who gives up a career modeling next to some of the world’s most beautiful women to go to law school?

  Chet Richmond does.

  He also volunteers at a soup kitchen in Buffalo, runs marathons, and builds birdhouses in his spare time.

  I made up that last one, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an image online of him with a hammer in his hand.

  There are thousands of images of Chet for public consumption.

  Long-haired Chet. Short-haired Chet. Chet in a speedo. Chet in a thousand dollar suit.

  Misery loves company when you’re drunk on beer and staring at the guy who has been rolling in and out of bed with the woman you can’t stop thinking about.

  Gunner steps into my office, closing the door behind him. “Mr. Colt? Sir? I can help.”

  I highly doubt that.

  “Is it about Ms. Conrad?” Gunner oversteps that boundary with ease.

  “It’s none of your business.” I halt him in place with a hand in the air.

  He stops. “You’ve been ignoring your calls since you got back from your meeting. You haven’t read any of your emails this morning. If you need to talk, I have two ears.”

  “I appreciate the effort, Gunner, but we’ll never be friends.”

  The corners of his mouth dip into a frown. I almost feel bad, but that passes within a half a second. I pay him too well to feel sorry for him.

  He clears his throat. “Talking always beats sulking.”

  “Firing your assistant beats listening to him quote bullshit.”

  He laughs. “Mrs. Alcester needs a word, sir. She’s called twice already today.”

  Of course, she needs a word. We’re due back in court days from now.

  “Get her on the phone.” I point at my office door. “Do it from your desk.”

  “Will do.”

  I wait for him to take a step, but he stays in place, a grin plastered on his mouth.

  “Now would be the time to get it done, Gunner.”

  “Are you busy later?” He shuffles his feet on the floor. “I thought maybe we could go for pizza. My treat.”

  I created a monster with a couple of slices of pepperoni and a cheap bottle of beer.

  I offer him a compromise. “We’ll do lunch. One hour. Your treat and no beer.”

  “I’ll meet you at the elevator at noon sharp.”

  “I’ll get there when I get there,” I counter. “Go call Mrs. Alcester, and if Ms. Conrad calls…”

  “I’ll put her right through, sir.” He smiles. “That goes without saying.”

  ***

  The pizza was delicious. The company was bearable.

  I sent Gunner back to the office ten minutes ago to handle an email from a client that requires an immediate response.

  I took care of lunch because it’s a business expense. Gunner saw fit to view it through a friendship lens, but that’s on him.

  I’m outside the restaurant now under the warming early afternoon sun.

  Going back to the office is a must, but I take a second to do something before I hit the pavement for the walk back.

  I scoop the silver hoop earring out of my pocket, place it my palm, and snap a quick picture of it.

  Attaching it to a text, I send it to Eden with a short message.

  Dylan: Look what I have.

  I start down the sidewalk, hoping she’ll respond soon.

  I look down when my phone pings in my hand.

  Eden: Yay! I love that earring.

  Walking and texting is a dangerous endeavor in Manhattan, but a man has to live on the edge sometimes.

  Dylan: It’s available for pick-up at my place tonight.

  Her response arrives just as I’m crossing the street.

  Eden: Perfect! I’ll bring that something special from high school I told you about.

  Dylan: You’re the only something special from high school I care about.

  My thumb hovers over the send button, but Eden beats me to the punch.

  Eden: I’m running into a meeting. I’ll see you at eight!

  I delete every word of the message I was going to send her before I pocket my phone.

  The expiry date we put on this is inching ever closer. My time is running out, and I’m not ready for that. I need to make a move before it’s too late.

  Chapter 39

  Dylan

  Eden arrived right on time.

  I went down to the lobby to greet her. I exited the elevator at five to eight but hung back when I noticed her standing to the side talking on her cell.

  She was nodding her head. A wide smile bloomed on her mouth for the person on the other end of that call.

  I watched her twirl in a circle after she dropped her phone in her purse. She smoothed her hand over the skirt of the light blue sundress she’s wearing.

  That’s when she noticed me.

  With a wave of her hand, she walked over and greeted me with a soft kiss to the mouth.

  It literally made my knees shake.

  We’re in my apartment now. She’s on the couch with her legs crossed and a smile on her face. I assume that has to do with the ‘something special’ from high school that she’s going to spring on me.

  “Did you just get home from work?” She points at the dark blue trousers and white button-down shirt I’m wearing.

  The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up, but a tie still hangs around my neck.

  Work kept me in my office until thirty minutes ago. I had just enough time to come up here, lose my suit jacket, and take a shot of scotch before I rode the elevator back down to meet her.

  “I don’t do nine-to-five like some attorneys in this city.” I hand her the glass of water she requested after I shut my apartment door.

  She takes a sip before placing it down on the coffee table, taking the time to slide a metal coaster underneath it.

  “Were you working on a proposal for the Alcester case?” she asks with a sly smile.

  I take a seat next to her. “Not a chance.”

  “So we’re actually going to do this?” Her brows inch up.

  I start loosening my tie. “You’re eager, but I’m here to please.”

  She laughs, swatting my hands away from my neck. “I wasn’t talking about sex. I was talking about the case. You want to take this to trial.”

  “That’s where we’re headed.” I finish up with the tie, tossing it on
the coffee table before I work on the top two buttons on my shirt. “If your client is ready to sign off on our financial and custody demands, we can avoid seeing Judge Mycella.”

  “Your client needs to check herself.” Her eyes dart from my face to the skin that’s exposed under my shirt. “She’s going to regret not taking what’s being offered to her.”

  I don’t want to talk business tonight. I had a hell of a day with people chirping in my ear about the person they once walked down the aisle with.

  Hatred and vile are a part of the daily when you do what I do for a living, but today was particularly brutal.

  I reach into the pocket of my pants and slide out her earring. “Let’s talk about what I’m offering you tonight.”

  She reaches for the earring, but I close my fingers around it before she gets there.

  “Dylan,” she whines. “Give it to me.”

  “I want something first.”

  Her brows pop up. “Right. You want that special thing from high school.”

  Her hand darts toward her tote bag, but I stop it mid-air when I grab her wrist. “I want you to kiss me.”

  Her tongue glides over her bottom lip. I lean out, just as she leans closer. Our lips meet in a soft kiss.

  I reach for the back of her head to tilt her just right. Her lips part to let me in. Our tongues tangle in an achingly familiar way. The need to take her to bed is strong.

  She breaks the kiss because there’s no way in hell I will.

  “Dylan.” My name has never sounded sweeter. “I have something to give you.”

  I want you. That’s all I fucking want.

  There’s no stopping her, so I watch as she fishes in her tote.

  Before I realize what’s happening, she places something in my hand.

  “You probably thought you’d never see this again. It’s going to bring back so many memories.” Her voice is edged with delight, as if she’s just handed me a treasure I’ve been hunting down for years.

  I look down at the thick silver ring in my hand. It’s tarnished, but the crest is unmistakable. I wore this ring after we won the junior state championship. We lost senior year.

  On the night we graduated, in all my infinite wisdom, I slid the ring off and left it on a table at the party before Barrett and I took off for the airport.

  It was something a spoiled ass kid would do.

  I fit that bill to a tee.

  “It’s your ring.” She traces her fingertip over the crest. “Your name is engraved on the inside of the band.”

  I stare down at the reminder of the worst night of my life.

  “I found it at a party. You must have dropped it.” She chuckles. “I picked it up, and it ended up in a box of my things. I brought it back from Buffalo for you.”

  I swallow hard, finally looking up at her.

  “Can you believe you have it back?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  Her hand darts out, palm outstretched. “A deal is a deal, so give me back my earring.”

  I open my fisted hand and drop the earring into her palm.

  “Hey.” She playfully punches my bicep. “We just negotiated something and kept our clothes on.”

  I look back down at the ring. I never thought I’d see this again. It feels like she just handed me a key that opens the door to my past.

  All I have to do is use it to start a discussion about the night we graduated.

  There’s no chance for a future with her, if I don’t set the past straight.

  Chapter 40

  Eden

  I can’t tell if he’s happy to see the ring or not.

  The expression on his face is unreadable. That’s a must for a skilled attorney inside a courtroom. Dylan has mastered it outside as well.

  “Try it on,” I suggest because I’ll do anything to get a smile out of him.

  I’ve held onto that ring for more than fifteen years. When he walked out of the party that we were at on the night we graduated, I saw it on a table.

  I knew it was his before I touched it.

  I scooped it up, shoving it into the front pocket of the jean cut-offs I was wearing.

  The doctors in the ER that night had to cut the shorts off of my body, but they put the ring in a small plastic zippered bag along with my house key.

  A nurse handed it to me once I was conscious again.

  I waited for Dylan to visit me in the hospital, but he never came.

  Once I was discharged, I kept it in my jewelry box, and eventually, that ended up in a cardboard box in the corner of my closet in Buffalo.

  “It won’t fit.” He looks down at it. “My hands are bigger now.”

  I take the comment and run with it. “You’re a perfect example of that saying about men with big hands having big…”

  “Cocks,” he interrupts me.

  “Egos,” I say flippantly. “That’s bigger now than it was in high school too.”

  He sets the ring on the coffee table. “You like the size of my ego.”

  Glancing down at the earring in my hand, I sigh. “I admit I like it. I like a lot of things about you.”

  “Like what?”

  I drop the earring in my bag before I turn to face him. “Your eyes.”

  He smiles, bringing a dimple to his cheek. “My eyes.”

  I stare into them. “Before I started at Harvard, my dad and I went to Boston.”

  “Coach always talked about seeing a Patriots game.”

  He did talk about that. He never made it there, but we drove past the stadium twice during that visit.

  “We took a ferry to Spectacle Island.” I sigh, remembering how my dad looked standing on the deck, staring out at the water. He was at peace. It was the first time in years that he finally looked happy. “A woman working at the front desk in the hotel we were staying at in Boston, recommended it.”

  He takes my hand in his but doesn’t say anything.

  I go on because it’s important for me to tell him. “There is all this beautiful sea glass there. It’s everywhere. You’re not allowed to take it, but…”

  “But you broke that rule.” He runs a fingertip over my palm.

  I nod. “I was scared I’d get caught, but there was one piece I had to have. I couldn’t leave without it.”

  A soft smile floats over his lips. “What was so special about it?”

  I slide my gaze to his face, taking in every feature as if I’m seeing it for the first time. This is what it felt like when I was a teenager looking into his eyes the day I met him.

  “Tell me,” he urges, bringing my hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

  “The sea glass was the color of your eyes,” I whisper. “I took it because it reminded me of you.”

  ***

  He kisses me in a way he never has before.

  There’s so much tenderness that it brings a tear to my eye.

  I swear I feel one slide down his cheek too, but when I try to pull away from the kiss to look, his hands jump to my face, cradling me.

  “I need you,” he whispers in such a deep, gruff tone that my core clenches.

  I reply with only a nod and a stuttered moan.

  We’re both on our feet before I realize what’s happening.

  He takes my hand, leading me down the hallway to his bedroom.

  The lighting is low. I can’t see his face as clearly as I want to, but I can sense what he feels.

  Tonight will be different.

  My hands slide to the belt of my wrap dress, but he takes over, gently nudging my fingers away.

  “Let me, Eden. Please let me.”

  I don’t say anything. Everything I need to say is too much for this moment.

  The words have been trapped inside of me for so long that I don’t know if I can sort through them enough to make him understand them.

  I love him.

  I have loved him since the first time he turned around at football practice and locked those beautiful blue eyes on my face.
/>   I lost my heart to him that day on the field.

  He slides my dress from my body, growling when he sees what I’m wearing underneath.

  It’s a light blue bra and panties that I bought just for him.

  I stopped at the Liore lingerie store on my way home from work the other day and chose these things because I knew he’d think I was beautiful.

  I am beautiful. In his eyes, I’m the most beautiful woman in the world tonight.

  In my eyes, I’m a survivor who has fought her way to this moment.

  I reach for the buttons of his dress shirt.

  His hands leap to mine when he notices how much I’m trembling. I feel as though this is our first time.

  Maybe it is. Maybe this is the first time we’ll make love with our hearts this open.

  He takes over removing his shirt and his pants. His boxer briefs are kicked off and I take in his beautiful, strong, lean body.

  His cock is hard. I move to wrap my hand around the root, but he stops me.

  “Get on the bed.” His voice is edged with a need that I haven’t heard before.

  I unclasp my bra, slide my panties down, and lower myself onto his bed all while staring at his face.

  Everything about him is all I’ll ever need, and as he crawls onto the bed next to me, I know that my life will forever be changed after tonight.

  Chapter 41

  Dylan

  She squirms beneath me as I eat her with a hunger I’ve never felt before.

  My mission is simple. I want her to feel a depth of pleasure she hasn’t experienced until tonight.

  She cries out when I stroke her clit with the tip of my tongue.

  “You’re teasing me,” she whimpers.

  I glance up at her body. Her nipples are perked, her tits moving with each undulation of her hips.

  One of her hands is covering her face. The other is laced so tightly in my hair that I’m sure she’s going to have a few strands left in her palm when I’m done.

  “You love it,” I growl out the words. “You love this.”

  “God, so much.” She breathes out on a sigh.

  I take her swollen clit between my lips and suck.