“Then I hope you find him, Fee. I really do.” He passed a hand over his face with a sigh. “I have to go. I’ll see you later. Make yourself comfortable.”
He turned and left, leaving me sad and confused.
How could he not see the person I did? His self-loathing shocked me. His refusal to see anything but the negative in himself was unsettling. His kindness to people. The care he showed those he loved. Because I believed he did love. He simply refused to see it—or was too frightened to admit to the feelings. Something in his past made him unable to see the good inside him. His horrendous childhood had left him unable to recognize it.
I heard the door close and I stood, clearing away the containers.
Halton Smithers had a lot of love to give. Of that, I had no doubt.
How could I get him to see it?
And why was it so important to me?
Halton
I glanced through the photos on my phone. “This is great, Aiden. I’ll take it. Bill it to the firm, all right?” I planned on adding it all on to Scott’s invoice. He kicked her out, so he should be paying for her rented accommodation. I had already explained it to Fee, and she was fine with it as long as I recovered my expenditures. When she had inquired if this was how I would handle it for all my clients, I had to hide my amusement and not tell her she was the only client I had ever gone to this much effort for. I kept that information to myself. I simply assured her it was.
Aiden’s voice was filled with concern. “Bent told me who this was for. Are you sure about this, Hal? I mean, the wife of your enemy?”
I was getting bored of the subject. I fucking knew what I was doing. I was a grown-ass man, for God’s sake. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly exhausted. It was as if the sleepless nights, Rene’s accident, and Fiona’s appearance in my life had hit me all at once, and I felt weary. My voice was sharper than usual.
“She’s a client, Aiden. Nothing more. I know Scott and his vile temper. He tried to get at her last night, and if he is angry enough, he might try again. It may seem over the top, but the security in the buildings will give her peace of mind. Which gives me peace of mind so I can do my job. Get her a divorce and what she deserves out of that bastard. Nothing more,” I repeated.
“Okay. It seems out of the ordinary for you.”
I held back my retort and counted to ten. “Send the keys to the office and whatever you need signed, Aiden.”
“You’ll have them Wednesday afternoon. The place will be clean and ready.”
“Thanks. I mean it. I appreciate it.”
I hung up before he could ask me anything else. Like where Fee was staying until Wednesday. Rene almost had a fit when I told him. Luckily, I’d had to hang up when I arrived at the community center to donate my time to Dads Seeking Justice.
But I had been distracted all afternoon, having to ask people to repeat themselves, and forgetting to keep my usual meticulous notes.
“Hal!”
I stopped by my car and turned to see Carl, one of the organizers, hurrying toward me. I pushed my door closed and waited for him.
“What’s up?” I asked when he got closer.
“I wanted to check on you. You, ah, weren’t yourself.”
I had hoped nobody noticed. “Sorry. Heavy caseload right now, and I didn’t get much sleep last night. I was a little distracted.”
He laughed, running a hand over the back of his neck. “That’s one word for it. You were glowering at the floor so hard, I thought you’d burn a hole in it. Anything else on your mind?”
“No. Just dealing with another asshole trying to push someone around.”
He grimaced. “I hear you. I’m glad they have you on their side, then. Listen, maybe you don’t have time, but it’s Jay’s birthday tomorrow and since you were such a huge part of us getting custody of him, we’d love it if you stopped by for a slice of cake. If you have time,” he repeated. “Chase made this huge chocolate cake that looks wonderful. It’s casual. Party at one, cake about three.”
I had fought to get Chase and Carl custody of Carl’s son when he and his wife split up. She didn’t want Jay, but she didn’t want Carl to have him either. Her homophobic tendencies came out loud and clear during the case, as did her possessive, crazy side, and it ended up costing her custody. Jay was happy and settled with his two dads and I always tried to keep up with my clients and their lives.
“Sure,” I agreed. I liked cake, and I’d always liked Jay. He was a cute kid. It would give me something different to do.
Except Fee was at my condo and I didn’t want to leave her alone again. I had a feeling Fee liked cake too, and I spoke before overthinking the situation.
“Could I bring a friend? She’s having a hard time and could probably use the distraction.”
“The more, the merrier.”
“Great. See you tomorrow.”
I climbed in my car, shaking my head. Why had I asked about bringing Fee?
What was this woman doing to me?
I stared at the steering wheel, reluctant to admit I didn’t really want to go home. I didn’t know what would happen when I arrived. I had no idea what possessed me to say anything to Fee. To talk about my past or attitude in regard to love, marriage, or children. It was as if the words just spilled out. Her refusal to accept that I was the person I knew myself to be proved to me that she was so damaged by Scott’s treatment of her that Rene was correct. She saw me as her white knight, saving her.
I was anything but.
I was a moody, selfish, arrogant man. I lived the way I wanted with no worries about how others saw me. I fought for my clients because it fed some small piece of me that needed to see that justice happened. As if making up for my past by ensuring the kids went to the right place and were looked after. But she was wrong if she thought me capable of love.
I did care for people. Rene, in many ways, was a surrogate father to me. His opinion mattered. He mattered. I cared about the few people I called friends. I cared about my clients.
But love?
That word didn’t exist in my world. Not now.
Love hurt. Destroyed you. Made you weak. I had witnessed it too often. Felt the bite of its loss. The sting of allowing my heart to feel more than it should.
I thought about Fee. The things I had learned about her. The softness she had hidden under her mask. The fear and worry. The intelligence and resilience she was rediscovering. She made me laugh. I liked hearing her laugh. I enjoyed our conversations. I enjoyed her.
With a sigh, I started the car. I liked her. I could admit that. In any other circumstance, I probably would have pursued her. Had mind-blowing sex with her. And then once that fire had burned out, as it always did, walked away from her.
The saturation point, as she called it.
But it would never happen. For so many reasons aside from the fact that she was a client.
She believed in a world I knew to be false. She wanted that world.
I hoped she’d find it. Because she deserved to be happy.
I shouldn’t have brought her into my home. It was foolish and dangerous on my part, but I wasn’t going to send her away. It was only until Wednesday. A few nights and days. It meant she was safe, and that was why I did it.
I pulled into traffic, heading back to the condo. I would go and be her attorney. Her friend. Guide her from this point in her life to her next chapter, where she would move on. That was all.
I ignored the small frisson in my chest that felt intense sadness at those thoughts.
I had myself convinced of the ease of the next few days until I walked in the door and the scent of something delicious hit me right away. I followed the aroma to the kitchen, to find Fee stirring a pot and humming softly. She had her hair piled on top of her head, a pair of jeans with a long-sleeved shirt that clung to her torso, and a tea towel tucked into her waist like a quasi-apron. Her feet were bare, tapping out an uneven rhythm on the tile floor. She looked adorable. And sexy.
Dammit.<
br />
“Hey,” I said, attempting to act casual.
She whirled around. “Hey, counselor. I didn’t hear you come in.”
A grin tugged at my lips at her nickname. “With all that racket you’re making, I’m not surprised.”
Her laugh was delightful.
“Sorry, I like to hum when I am cooking.”
I winked. “Teasing. What, exactly, are you cooking?”
“Homemade pasta sauce.”
I frowned. “How on earth are you making that when the fridge was so empty?”
“Don’t get upset,” she started, holding up her hand. “There’s a Rabba downstairs. I never left the building. I cut through the lobby.”
I couldn’t really get upset. Her sauce smelled too good and I was hungry. I often ran downstairs to Rabba. They were a local food chain with a great hot-food counter and an amazing selection of groceries and produce. Pricey but handy. I sat down at the island. “Not upset. I’m too hungry to be upset.”
She shook her head. “You’re in such good shape, but you eat more than I think I’ve ever seen before. You must burn it off with all that nervous energy.”
I chuckled and reached over to the wine rack, selecting a bottle of red. “If you think I eat a lot, wait until you meet Aiden. The man is a walking garbage disposal.”
“Charming.”
Standing, I grabbed a couple of glasses. “He’s a great guy. Bentley’s right hand and partner. Maddox is the third one of the team.”
She chuckled. “I’ve heard of BAM. They’re a bunch of good-looking guys. They’re in the paper a lot.”
I wasn’t surprised. They were huge players in the Toronto real estate market. But for some reason, it bothered me she mentioned their good looks, and I couldn’t let it go.
“I’m in the paper too.”
“Yep.”
“You said I’m in good shape.”
She peered at me over her shoulder. “I did, counselor. You want to cross-examine me? Am I under oath?”
I laughed at her wit. “I’ve been told I’m a good-looking guy.”
She shook her head, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “Now you’re fishing.”
Unable to resist, I sidled up behind her, resting my hands on her hips. I rested my chin on her shoulder. “Did I catch anything?” I murmured.
“As if I need to tell you how handsome you are.”
My lips hovered close to her ear. The delicate shell was pink and glowing. From the heat of the sauce or my closeness, I wasn’t sure, yet I wanted to find out. “A guy likes to hear it on occasion.”
She shivered. “You are, counselor. You know it.”
“Damn right.” I pressed my lips to her skin briefly, lightly, the temptation too difficult to ignore. “Don’t you forget it.”
“With that ego of yours, it’s highly unlikely.”
I grinned and inhaled deeply. “It smells so good.”
“Me or the sauce?” she quipped, but I heard the tremor in her voice. I knew I was riding a dangerous line here, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“Both.”
“Ha. Nice try. I think I smell like garlic.”
She didn’t. This close to her neck, I could smell flowers and citrus. Soft. Sweet. And sexier than it should be. But I knew if I said it, there was no going back, and that wasn’t fair to either of us.
“Well, no worries about vampires, then.”
She laughed and elbowed me out of the way. Regretfully, I stepped back, even though I knew it was the right thing to do. Strangely enough, though, I had liked how she felt molded to my chest. I cleared my throat and got busy opening the wine.
“Did you rest?”
“No, I read a little, made the sauce, and dessert.”
“Dessert?”
“A fast trifle. I saw all the berries downstairs and decided that would be great after the spicy pasta sauce. I soaked the fruit in some Amaretto.”
“Sounds delicious.”
She asked about the group, and I filled her in a little on some of the things I had paid attention to. Before I could change my mind, I asked her about going with me for cake the next day. She seemed pleased and agreed to it. I helped set the island for dinner, feeling strangely content. I had been worried there would be awkwardness between us because of our earlier conversation or that she would want to delve more into it, but she was simply Fee. Sweet and funny, charming, and cooking dinner for me in my kitchen.
Like she belonged there.
I quickly dismissed that thought. I was so tired, my brain was misfiring—that had to be it.
After two huge plates of pasta and salad, I sat back with a groan. “Wow, you can cook.”
“I’m a little out of practice. I think the sauce needed more basil.”
“It was awesome.”
“Dessert now or later?”
“Later. I thought we could watch a movie if you’d like?”
Her face lit up. “I would love that!”
“Great. Go pick something on Netflix. I’ll clean up.”
“But—”
“Nope. You cooked. I’ll clean.”
She laid a hand on my arm. “Okay.”
She hurried away. I wondered how it was possible that I felt the heat of her touch all the way through my shirt. I shook my head at my stupid thoughts.
It had to be the wine.
The wine kept fucking with my head all night. Add in the exhaustion, and I was practically delirious. It was the only explanation I could come up with for the events of the evening.
Fee chose a suspenseful thriller movie, then kept hiding behind a pillow and gasping in shock at things that seemed so obvious to me. I kept laughing, finding her antics amusing.
Finally, I gave up and patted the seat next to me. “Come here, scaredy-cat.”
She scooted over, sitting close.
“You know, we can change channels. Watch something else.”
“No,” she insisted. “I want to see what happens to the guy.”
“In order to do that, you need to stop covering your face,” I informed her, draining my wine and leaning back. I lifted my arm and tugged her close. She nestled into my side, her head resting against my shoulder. It felt oddly right for her to be there—the same way it had for her to be in my kitchen. I gave up trying to figure it out and rested my cheek against her hair. I could smell her fragrance again—light and airy. It suited her. Not overpowering but soft.
She jumped, and I rubbed her arm. “It’s fine, Fee. It’s a movie.”
“I know.”
The movie ended, and I switched channels to an older film I thought she’d like. I had seen it several times and enjoyed it. No one died, and there was nothing scary—only some bad acting and a thin plot. She relaxed a little, her body leaning closer as she calmed. The death grip she had on the pillow eased, and her hands became still. My fingers found the ends of her hair, and I rubbed the silky strands between my thumb and index finger.
“Your hair is so different. You know, when I saw you in the bar… At first glance, I thought you were a cougar trying to pick me up.”
She giggled, the sound feminine and different to my ears.
“I know it’s been a long time since that dinner when we met,” I mused, “but I’m usually better at remembering people. I should have known it was you.”
“It’s the hair,” she said, tousling the strands with her fingers. “And I don’t wear much makeup now. I never liked it.”
“Is this, ah, natural?” I asked. “I remember you being blond.”
“The blond was fake. This is real. Scott hated it—he said it made me look old and therefore made him look bad. We argued when I let the blond fade and the real colors show through. My mom went white young, and so did I.”
“I like it,” I murmured. “It’s unique—like you.”
“Thanks,” she said, then sighed. “Don’t feel bad about not remembering me, Halton. Back then, it was my job to be forgettable. Scott wanted a presence�
��the veneer of a happy marriage. I was to look good and smile, but not overshadow him in any way.”
A ripple of anger tore through me. I pressed my lips against her crown and squeezed her shoulder.
“You, Fee, are never forgettable. I may not have recognized you instantly, but once I did, all I recalled was how incredible I thought you were, and that you—in every single way, without even trying—overshadowed that asshole. You were simple perfection sitting beside a jerk.”
She tilted up her head. Her green eyes glimmered in the low light.
“Thank you, Halton. That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
I kissed her head again, resting my cheek on it, unable to say anything else.
We watched the movie in silence, and soon, Fee felt heavier beside me. Not long after, she was asleep. Her breathing became deep and even, and soon, she started emitting the strangest sounds I had ever heard. It was a sort of clicking-purr noise. I had heard it in the library, but up close, it was even odder. It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t place it. It amused me though, but I stifled my laugh and turned down the volume so she wouldn’t be startled awake. I leaned back my head. I would sit here with her for a bit then wake her and go to bed. Maybe my body was tired enough I would get a few hours rest tonight.
It would be a nice change.
Something tickled my nose and I lifted my hand to wipe at it, but it was gone. There was an odd sound close to my face, and my body felt warm and constricted as if I were being held down. I cracked an eye open to figure it out and was shocked to see I was lying down on the sofa.
And tucked beside me, wrapped in my arms, fast asleep, was Fee. I blinked to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, but she was there, and this was real. Carefully, so as not to disturb her, I checked my watch. It was almost seven in the morning. I had somehow, by some miracle, slept for over nine hours. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
But how? The last thing I remembered was Fee falling asleep next to me. I had shut my eyes, and I must have fallen asleep myself. Somehow, we ended up twisting and turning until we were lying down and had slept the night away. The TV was still playing, the sound low, the table lamp on, and the room dim. I looked down, surprised to see how tightly entwined we were. Our bodies aligned, my leg wrapped around hers, her toes resting on my calf. Our chests were melded together. Her head was tucked into my neck, and I held a fistful of her hair in my hand. My cock was awake too, pressed into her hip, hoping to get closer. I chose to ignore that fact, concentrating on the more important issue at hand.
Halton: Vested Interest #6 Page 9
