Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance

Home > Romance > Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance > Page 13
Say You Love Me : An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 13

by Sarah J. Brooks


  I glared at him, trying to sift through the hundreds of screaming insults I wanted to hurl at his head. “Just get out. I can’t deal with this. I have to get ready for work,” I finally said tiredly, feeling drained.

  Jeremy frowned. “I feel like some signals have gotten crossed. If you’d only let me explain—”

  “There’s nothing for you to explain. We got drunk. We had sex. It’s over now and will never happen again. Now, I need you to leave so I can get ready for work. I’ll see you at the office.” Jeremy opened his mouth then closed it again. I watched as he put on his clothes from the night before. I went to the front door and unlocked it.

  Jeremy’s phone pinged again, but this time he didn’t look at it. Probably because it had already gotten him in enough trouble that morning.

  But I was thankful for that annoying phone. It reminded me of exactly who I was dealing with. And who Jeremy was. Because it seemed sometime in the last twelve hours, I had forgotten.

  I opened the door and stood aside for him to walk into the hallway. He looked at me, but I refused to meet his eyes. I felt wretched, but hell if I’d let him see that.

  “You should try listening once in a while. Sometimes you hear a whole different story than the one you think you know,” Jeremy said and then he walked down the hallway and far away from me.

  Chapter 9

  Jeremy

  I walked down the hallway and then stopped. I turned back, half hoping she was standing there watching me leave. But she wasn’t. The door to her apartment was closed.

  That had gone incredibly, horribly bad.

  Yet, why was I strangely turned on by being unceremoniously booted out? Man, I had some serious issues.

  My phone buzzed, and I was ready to throw it against the brick wall if it was Sheila or Greta again. It wasn’t. This time it was Rob wondering if I wanted to meet up for breakfast before court.

  Shit. I had court in less than two hours, and I was still wearing the clothes from last night.

  I’ll meet you in thirty minutes.

  I hauled ass to my apartment and quickly showered. My eyes were red, and I looked as if I hadn’t slept at all. Which wasn’t far from the truth.

  Because I had been fucking Lena for most of the night.

  My dick twinged and I tried not to think about it. Too late. I couldn’t get the image of her gorgeous tits and creamy thighs out of my head. And the feel of her hands in my hair as I sucked her clit. I hadn’t been able to get enough of her. Even now I craved her. I wanted to taste her again. Smell her. Touch her. Screw her into oblivion.

  “Mmmm,” I groaned, fisting my cock and stroking hard. I braced myself against the tiled shower wall. The memory of being buried inside her was enough to make me cum all over my hand in under five minutes. That was the quickest I had blown a load since I was a horny teenager. I was both aroused and mortified by that fact.

  How the hell was I going to work beside her day after day knowing what she looked like naked?

  That was one of the problems of sleeping with a coworker. That and the inevitable awkwardness that arose from making the situation overly complicated. Especially now that she hated me all over again.

  I quickly got dressed and grabbed my briefcase. I had six minutes to get to the diner to meet Rob, but I slowed down. I wasn’t the kind of guy to rush anywhere. I’d get there when I got there. And Rob would be understanding if I was late. Rob was Type A and a stickler for schedules, but he was cool about not imposing his impossible demands on Adam and me. He was harder on himself than he was on anyone else.

  I pulled out my phone as I got in the car, thinking about messaging Lena. But what would I say? What could I say? Once again, she believed the absolute worst about me. Maybe it was partially my fault. I could have explained that I hadn’t slept with Sheila, Greta—or anyone else for that matter—in almost a month. It was my longest bout of self-imposed celibacy.

  But why did I need to explain myself? I didn’t owe Marlena Ducate anything. Even if she had been, hands down, the best lay I’d ever had, and I would saw my left arm off to have another round of hiding the sausage with her.

  It didn’t matter. It was only sex. Just two people getting their rocks off many, many times. Damn it. Now I was thinking about the way I had pressed her against the shower wall. Her skin slick, my dick deep inside her tight, hot cunt.

  “God, motherfucking damn it!” I growled, slamming my hands against the steering wheel. I didn’t have time to flog the log again, so I needed to get myself under control.

  But her face was all too present in my mind. Her hair. Her smile. Her gorgeous, unbelievable body. Christ, I needed to exorcise her and quickly.

  I drove to Jesse’s Diner and pulled into the parking lot next to Rob’s ten-year-old BMW. I gave him an endless amount of crap about his beat-up vehicle. He could afford five decent new cars without blinking but my partner seemed to hold onto his austere, penny-pinching mindset with the tenacity of a grandpa raised in the depression. The guy didn’t know what it meant to live a little.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late,” I said by way of greeting, sliding into the booth across from Rob.

  He barely glanced up, typing something on his phone. “I ordered you the Denver omelet and black coffee.”

  “You’re the best, dude,” I said sincerely.

  Rob put down his phone when our coffees arrived, going straight for the sugar. He always put way too much of the stuff in everything. He had the appetite of a five-year-old. “So, want to tell me why you look like a warm pile of assholes? Did you get any sleep last night?” Rob asked blandly, stirring his coffee.

  I ran a hand through my hair. “You wish you could look this good,” I lobbed back because that’s what I would be expected to do. Jeremy Wyatt with the quick wit and cocky banter. No one could know that I was feeling turned inside out.

  Rob shook his head, sipping his coffee. “The bags under your eyes could have their own area code. You’re in front of Judge Radner this morning. He’s a ball breaker. You need to bring your A-game if you don’t want him to screw you sideways.”

  Shit. I had forgotten that Dick Radner was the presiding judge. He was your stereotypical small-town judge who liked to carry a grudge and used his authority accordingly. He had disliked Adam for years and by extension, Rob and me, for no other reason than because we were associated with Ducate. I could typically turn on the schmooze and, with a little flattery, coast through, but today I wasn’t feeling very coasty. And I sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to placate a giant man-baby in a black robe.

  “I’ll be fine,” I told him unconvincingly. I wasn’t the kind of person to suffer from doubt and low self-esteem but even I wasn’t feeling particularly confident in my abilities today. I needed to get over my crap.

  When the food arrived, I attacked it with gusto. Copious amounts of sex definitely built up an appetite. “Adam asked if you could take Lena with you to court this morning,” Rob announced just as I was swallowing a mouthful of egg.

  I started coughing, banging on my chest with a fist. Rob pushed a glass of water across the table and watched me gulp it down with wry interest. “All good now?” he asked once I was breathing normally again.

  “No need to do the Heimlich this time,” I assured him, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “Why would Adam want Marlena tagging along on my case? Doesn’t she have enough of her own stuff to do?”

  Rob checked his phone again, not bothering to look at me when he responded. “We want Lena to have as much court time as possible. She can be your second chair.”

  I balled up the napkin and threw it on the table. “I don’t need a second chair. It’s a small-time case. A simple DUI. I don’t need help.” I sounded petulant, but I didn’t care. I didn’t need Lena there with her bad vibes, particularly after being thrown out of her apartment only an hour and a half earlier.

  Rob narrowed his eyes. “Your issues with Lena are becoming ridiculous. I thought you guys had gotten over whatever bullshit was
going on between you. We’re not in elementary school, Wyatt. Grow up already.”

  I drew myself upright. “Fuck off, man. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Marlena and I... we’re… it’s nothing. We’re nothing.”

  Rob tapped at his phone screen. “Then I’ll tell Adam you’re fine to have Lena join you at court in thirty minutes.”

  Thirty minutes? That’s all I had? That wasn’t enough time to prepare me to face her. I was adept at avoiding post-coital awkwardness. I had always been the king of fuck and duck.

  It seemed I wouldn't be able to this time.

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever,” I muttered, shoving the rest of my omelet into my mouth.

  “Hey guys, how’s it going?” I looked up at the pretty dark-haired woman standing beside our table with a sardonic smile that made it look as if she were laughing at us.

  “Hi Skylar,” I greeted, getting to my feet and kissing her lightly on the cheek. You know, like the Europeans do it. It made me feel all classy.

  “No need for that nonsense.” Skylar Murphy made a face, waving me away. I knew Skylar through Adam and Meg. She was one of their closest friends, and as such, we moved in similar social circles in Southport. She had moved to town from Philly last year and was working as a web designer. Adam had hired her awhile back to revamp our website. I liked her shoot from the hip, no bullshit demeanor. She was nice to look at too, but it was important to never, ever tell her that. She’d bite your head off.

  “What brings you out into daylight so early?” I asked, remembering that Skylar had made a point to set up all meetings around the website for the afternoon, stating “I don’t do mornings.”

  “I’m meeting Meg next door to look at flowers or something. You know, wedding planning.” Skylar fidgeted slightly. I got the sense that she would rather be doing just about anything than wedding preparation. But she and Meg were best friends and unfortunately for Skylar that came with certain responsibilities.

  “I offer my condolences,” I teased with a wink. Skylar rolled her eyes. She glanced at Rob, who was still staring at his phone and hadn’t so much as greeted her. My partner was really bad in the whole social niceties department. I kicked him under the table, and he startled, glancing up.

  “Oh, hi, Skylar,” he said, looking flustered. His cheeks turned pink. What the hell was that about? If I wasn’t so far up my own ass, I’d have bugged him about it. Ribbed him mercilessly was more likely. But instead, I let it go.

  “Do you have the stuff for your website? I was going to send you an email this week to remind you, but since I’m seeing you now—in person—I thought I’d ask,” Skylar rambled. I don’t think I’d ever heard the woman sound so strained.

  Rob smiled, but it was almost painful. “No, I haven’t had a chance. But I’ll send it over to you this week.”

  “Promise?” Was Skylar flirting with Rob? Did a woman like Skylar know how to flirt?

  His smile was less forced this time. He pushed a hand through his hair and took his glasses off. I knew from years of experience that when Rob took the glasses off, he was feeling frisky. Because lord knows you wouldn’t know it otherwise. He wasn’t an easy guy to read under the best of circumstances. “Promise, Sky.”

  Sky? Since when were they on a nickname basis? There was a lot to unpack here, but not now. Not when I was going to have to face Lena in twenty minutes.

  Fuck.

  I got to my feet with a start, throwing cash on the table. “I need to get to the courthouse. Pay up, will ya?”

  Rob took his eyes off Skylar long enough to level me with a pointed look. “Sure. Good luck. And play nice.”

  My grin was wry. “What’s the fun in that?”

  **

  Lena was already at the courthouse when I arrived, looking fresh and beautiful and not at all like she had been up most of the night with my dick in her pussy.

  She barely looked at me as I approached. She was talking to my client, Danielle Cole, who was chewing on her thumbnail, looking nervous.

  “Good morning, ladies,” I greeted smoothly, holding my hand out for Danielle to shake. I noticed her palm was sweating. I covered her hand with mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We have this one in the bag. You don’t need to worry,” I assured her.

  Danielle relaxed slightly. “Thank you, Mr. Wyatt. I just can’t believe this is happening. I’m so angry with myself. If I had only called a cab—”

  “This is your first offense, Dani. We definitely don’t want this on your record, not with your job with the town. It’s an open and shut case.” Lena put her arm around the short, middle-aged woman’s shoulders. Their ease demonstrated familiarity. Of course, Lena knew my client. She and her brother knew fucking everyone in this town. Sometimes it was annoying. But not today.

  Surprisingly I didn’t feel put out or defensive at how she insinuated herself between my client and me. Or how deftly she made Danielle feel comfortable when I couldn’t. I watched Lena with a growing appreciation. She was capable and damn good at the softer side of the work we did so I relinquished the touchy-feely stuff to her gladly.

  Plus, if her attention was on Danielle, she wasn’t throwing daggers in my direction.

  Ten minutes later we were sitting in the courtroom waiting for Judge Radner. I was feeling clammy and more than a little sleepy. I sat up as straight as I could and took a few deep breaths, trying to focus.

  “Here’s the file. You forgot it at the office.” Lena slid the manila folder toward me. She was sitting on the other side of Danielle, who provided a welcome barrier between us.

  I really was off my game. I remembered leaving it behind because I had planned to debrief before heading to the courthouse this morning. If Lena hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have had it. I was definitely not firing on all cylinders.

  “Thanks,” I said, offering her a smile, which she didn’t return. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine, solidifying the discomfort I had anticipated, yet disappointing, nonetheless.

  Judge Radner arrived a few minutes later and then we were off. The District Attorney’s office had sent a low-level minion, which should have given me a slam dunk. But it seemed good ol’ Radner was in a shitty mood and soon it became clear that everything I said was grating on the persnickety judge’s nerves.

  “I’m not one of those judges that go lenient on someone simply because they’ve never offended before. What if Ms. Cole had killed someone because she had made the decision to get behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated?” Judge Radner demanded, his voice clipped and cold. I could feel Danielle practically sinking into the chair.

  “Your Honor, Ms. Cole is an exemplary member of the community. She’s a deacon in her church. She’s the secretary of the rotary club, which you yourself are a member—”

  “Are you trying to sway me through familiarity, Mr. Wyatt? If so, you should know that’s grossly inappropriate,” Judge Radner barked. The DA flunky across the aisle all but crowed in delight.

  This was not going well.

  I glanced down at the file, trying to buy myself some time.

  “I don’t have all day, Mr. Wyatt,” Judge Radner snapped. Jesus, who pissed in his cornflakes this morning?

  I felt a touch on my left shoulder. I turned to see Lena leaning back in her chair. “Let me take over,” she whispered.

  I glanced at Judge Radner, who was scowling down from the bench.

  “He looks ready to spit roast us. Are you sure?” I asked.

  Lena nodded. “I’ve got this. I know how to get what we want from Dick Radner.”

  I shrugged. “Why not? It’s not as if I’m helping things.”

  Thirty minutes later we were walking out of the courtroom. Danielle was ordered to pay a fine and upon completion of the drug and alcohol education program, and the conviction would be expunged from her record. It was a great outcome.

  Lena had been right. She definitely knew how to work Judge “crusty faced” Radner over. She had spoken to him softly, smiling frequently. She h
ad played to his sympathies, reminding him of the time his daughter, who was apparently friends with Lena in high school (of course she was), had gotten in trouble for drinking underage, and how awful she had felt.

  “We all make mistakes, Your Honor. Don’t let this one lapse in judgment mar Ms. Cole’s otherwise spotless record.” Lena had been just the right amount of sincere and effusive. It had worked. Judge Radner’s ire abated considerably, and he had handed down a much more lenient sentence.

  Danielle was happy. I was happy. Lena was certainly happy. She glowed with pride, which seemed to wash away some of the weirdness between us.

  “Nicely done, Ducate.”

  Lena gripped her briefcase, a bounce in her step. “Thanks. I figured it didn’t hurt to jump in given how spectacularly you were sinking in there.”

  I chuckled. “Fair point. Judge Radner isn’t a fan of Jenkins, Ducate, and Wyatt. I’m only surprised you and your brother haven’t been tarred with the same brush.”

  Lena waved away my comment. “I was friends with Belinda Radner for years. I spent many nights over at their house. Adam was a punk. I was the sweet, guileless little sister of a punk. Dick Radner has always liked me.”

  “Lucky for us, then. It seems we have a new secret weapon in our war against Radner the Ridiculous.”

  Lena laughed and I felt my insides clench. God, she was lovely. And smart. And charming. And just about every goddamn thing I found completely irresistible.

  We walked outside. It had started to rain so I opened my umbrella and held it over both of our heads. She had to press in close to avoid getting wet. It took everything in me not to wrap an arm around her and pull her to my chest. We headed in the direction of the parking lot, neither of us saying anything.

  When we got to her car, she unlocked the door and opened it. “I guess I’ll see you back at the office.” She started to climb in, but I gently grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her. She looked back at me, not with surprise, but in slight resignation. As if she knew this had to happen at some point.

  “Marlena, we need to talk about what happened last night,” I said without preamble. God, this was fucking awkward.

 

‹ Prev