“Forget I called,” Krissy begged. “Go back to whatever you were doing. I promise everything is fine. I’ll text you if anything changes.”
“You’re doing great,” Harlan assured her. “I’ll be back early tomorrow morning, but if you need me call.”
Hanging up the phone, she flopped backward onto the bed and sighed loudly.
“Is she sick?” Dallas asked, dropping his coat back down and leaning against the wall.
“She ate too much and misses me. That’s all. She’ll be all right.” Her hand was up over her face now, covering her eyes.
“I can take you home if you want. This was a bad idea to begin with. I never break the rule.”
“The don’t fraternize with the people you are supposed to protect rule?”
“It’s an important one,” he nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “You sure you want to stay?” He flipped on the small television in the corner and lay down next to her.
“Oh, a reality television marathon,” she exclaimed, stealing the remote from him. “That one slaps the girl in the tube top. It’s hilarious.”
“Should I make you some popcorn?” he quipped sarcastically
“Extra butter,” she sang, ignoring the fact that he was only teasing her. “And another drink.”
Chapter 6
Landmines. Part of Dallas’s police training had been an extensive exercise in demining an area. He’d volunteered for it as the guy who was always ready to take on the most dangerous challenges.
All around him had been buried devices that, if stepped on, could have killed him. And yet, as he looked down at the partially undressed woman sprawled across his messy bed, he felt light years more uneasy than he had that day. She’d stripped out of her dress last night before falling asleep in his bed and happily slid into the T-shirt he’d offered. Now as she lay there, he wondered if stopping last night had been the stupidest thing he’d ever done. But with the sun rising, he’d have to find a way around what they’d started.
Everyone knew there was a rule about getting involved with a client. But it was broken as often as it was enforced. Things happened. When adults were crammed together in dangerous situations, there was bound to be some fireworks. Dallas accepted that as a truth, but never dabbled in it himself. This moment, this trapped feeling, was exactly why.
Houdini himself would have been impressed by the disappearing acts Dallas had pulled on women over the years. He’d fly right out of the country and toss his burner cell phone in the closest trash can if things started to get serious with someone. The last girl he’d had ended in disaster six months ago.
The only rule more pressing than his get out while they’re still asleep was the one that said he couldn’t leave a client without protection. No exceptions. If he left now, Harlan would wake up in this less than desirable neighborhood with no way to get home. Even if he called a car service, it would still be an egregious dereliction on his duties. Unforgivable. And even more so if anything were to happen to her because he’d left.
“I can call a cab,” Harlan groaned without opening her eyes. “You don’t have to stand there looking at me wondering how to get out of this. I’ll give you the answer. The door. That’s how you get out.”
“I, uh, that’s not what I was doing,” he lied, stumbling over his shoes as he tried to busy himself. “I was thinking about where to get breakfast.”
“Right,” she laughed, rolling over, her long mop of dark hair fluttering to one side as she moved. The sheet was clutched tight to her, and he wished it would magically evaporate so he could see her luscious curves again.
“I’m looking for an exit strategy, if that helps. You obviously can’t be my bodyguard anymore after last night. It wouldn’t be prudent. So unfortunately, you’re fired. You can take off now, I’ll get dressed and get myself back to my car.”
“I’ll get you back there,” he said, searching around for her clothes. “Once you’re home you can make arrangements for a new security detail. Or your brothers can. But I won’t feel right unless I get you back safely.”
“It’s not necessary, but I’m too exhausted to argue.”
“Is that a first?”
“Pretty much,” she laughed. “You should be proud though. You lasted longer as my security detail than most the others.”
“I’m sorry I compromised the situation. I’m not sure how I’ll face Emmitt, knowing I can’t live up to my end of the deal. I still owe him.”
“I’ll make sure he knows you were the best of the bunch. Actually, I’ll take the heat on this one. You’ll look like a hero.”
“No, I won’t lie to Emmitt.”
“Oh, all right I’ll tell him I spent the night in your bed. That we sort of fooled around before thinking better of it, and rather than deal with the awkwardness we decided we should part ways. He’ll appreciate your honesty.”
“Good point,” Dallas conceded, tossing her the rest of her clothes and pretending to look at something interesting out the large bay window while she dressed. “If I took advantage of the situation last night . . .” he started, feeling like complete garbage about it.
“Don’t you dare,” she scolded as she pulled her dress back on and pointed at him. “I’m not some simple little girl who didn’t know what last night was about. The last thing I want is some long-term thing. I needed something, you needed something; that’s all this was. We both smartened up in time to change our minds. Don’t act as though I’m not mature enough to deal with it. Don’t act like you’re so intoxicating I’ll struggle to watch you walk away today.”
“You’re good for the ego,” Dallas chuckled, staring too long as Harlan spun her hair skillfully into a ponytail, exposing more of her beautiful face and soft neck.
“I do what I can,” she sighed, her perfume passing under his nose as she made her way to the door. “You’re on the clock another hour. Get me home, and you’re off the hook.”
The words almost slipped from his mouth. Maybe I don’t want to be off the hook. His hand almost reached for the drooping strap that was slipping off her shoulder.
“Yes ma’am,” he said as he buttoned his now wrinkled shirt and fought the urge to lay her back across the bed. She had places to be, and so did he.
“What time is the hearing today?” Harlan asked, slipping into her high heels. “Once I get the girls settled at my mom’s, I’d be happy to go with you.”
“I thought we were calling this the almost one-night stand,” he said, a thudding in his chest at the idea this could spiral into another encounter. It had been the distraction that pulled him through the night without all his focus being on the idea that Tim may never be released.
“It was,” she said, nodding adamantly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t still help you out.”
“Tim has a good lawyer, and you aren’t one anyway. What good would it do for you to be there?”
“I wasn’t offering legal counsel. I was offering support. Unless you have friends beating down your door to help.”
“Most think I’ve crossed the line,” Dallas admitted. “They think my tactics for trying to run down leads are questionable at best. Some have even turned their backs on Tim. I’m one of the few people who hasn’t left him in the lurch.”
“I’ll meet you at the courthouse then,” Harlan asserted. “The girls were already planning to spend the afternoon with my mother.”
“Why?”
“They enjoy her company,” Harlan answered with a smirk, clearly knowing that wasn’t what he meant.
“Why would you come to the courthouse?”
“Because last night started off as one of the worst nights of my life and you drove me away from it. I owe you.”
“If you don’t show,” Dallas said, pulling the door open and gesturing for her to pass, “I won’t hold it against you. Last night I was doing my job.”
“Was that all it was?” she asked, winking and nibbling at her lip. “If so, you deserve a raise.”
; “Yes, it was,” he stammered, not remembering a time he’d been so knocked off his center of gravity by a woman.
“I’m kidding.” She laughed a sweet breathy chuckle. “I meant what I said about that being just one night. I’m not looking for anyone in my life right now. You’re not my bodyguard, and you’re not anything else to me.”
“You’re a very unique woman, Harlan,” Dallas said as they walked down the steps toward the street. “I’m not sure I’ve met anyone quite like you before.”
“Trust me you haven’t.”
Chapter 7
“You actually showed,” Dallas said, looking up from his cell phone as Harlan crossed the long corridor toward him. “You didn’t have to.”
“You said that already,” she sighed, touching his arm gently and smiling up at him. “But who’s going to keep you from going all homicidal maniac if this doesn’t go your way?”
“Are you implying you could stop me?” he asked, looking down at her tiny frame. “Not unless you have some grenades in your purse.”
“I’m scrappy,” Harlan teased, balling her hands into fists and pretending to prepare for a fight. “Don’t underestimate me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dallas insisted, and she knew coming had been the right choice as she saw a bit of worry slide off his face when he smiled.
“Dallas, I think you should stay out here,” a mousy looking woman in an ill-fitting pantsuit said as she propped a hand on her hip. Her hair was pinned back with random clips that were hardly doing their job. “Emotional outbursts won’t help Tim’s future court appearances.”
“Melissa, please stop talking like we’ve already lost this one. Tim deserves a new trial.” Dallas checked his watch for the hundredth time.
Melissa shook her head in agreement, but her expression didn’t match. There was a clear sense of defeat around the edges of her makeup-free eyes. “I agree that he deserves a new trial, but proving inadequate representation is difficult. Especially in front of the judge we’ve got today.”
“Hello,” Harlan said sweetly, trying to break the tension. “I’m Dallas’s friend Harlan. He’s had a lot of great things to say about you, Melissa.”
“What?” she asked, her frizzy hair bouncing as she spoke. “I’m sorry, you said your name was what?”
“Harlan,” she said, plastering on the same smile. “Weird name I know. I hope things go well for you in there today.”
“Is this some kind of a joke?” Melissa asked, looking distrustfully at Dallas.
“No,” Dallas defended. “She’s a friend of mine, and she offered to come today. It’s not a joke.”
“Because for as long as I’ve been involved in Tim’s case,” Melissa started, “you’ve been essentially on your own. I haven’t so much as seen you grunt at another human being, let alone call someone a friend.”
“Shouldn’t we go in?” Dallas asked, changing the subject with absolutely no finesse.
“We can,” Mellissa shrugged, her eyes fixed on Dallas, “as long as you are sure you can keep it together no matter how the judge rules today. No outbursts.”
“I’m fine,” he said, straightening his back. “I’m an adult. I can control myself.”
Harlan had the urge to slip her hand in his, to let him know she was there and he wasn’t alone. Instead, she reached up and touched the back of his arm, just for a moment.
“You sure you’ve got this under control?” Harlan asked quietly as they stepped into the courtroom and took a seat a row behind the defendant’s table. The rigid wood bench was anything but welcoming. A reminder that this room held little comfort for anyone. Either you were rooting for justice or hoping for a miracle. Either way you had a fifty percent chance of getting your heart broken.
Harlan could see only the shaggy hair and orange jumpsuit of a man she presumed was Tim.
Dallas cleared his throat loudly and Tim turned halfway around. Harlan caught the edges of his profile, and her heart melted as a small nod passed between the two men.
The courtroom was all wood and high ceilings, and Harlan wondered how long it would be before she and Rylie would be back in a place like this. The divorce had been anything but smooth so far and the idea of having to battle him for years to come ripped at her.
As the hearing began Harlan could feel the tension rise in Dallas, whose arm was pressed against hers. His breath was rigid, and he had to keep swallowing back the words he wanted to interject. But he stayed contained.
“With the information provided today and the testimony yesterday the court does not feel Mr. Andrews’s sixth amendment rights to a fair trial were violated. The principle standard is to determine whether the lawyer's conduct so undermined the functioning of the judicial process that the trial could not be relied upon as producing a just result. Though some of the original defense may have been compromised in some way due to a medical condition of the attorney, there is no substantial evidence that the outcome of the trial would have been impacted.”
“No,” Dallas hissed through his gritted teeth, “the guy fell asleep during part of the trial.” His voice was growing louder but stopped suddenly when Harlan laced her fingers into his. He clamped tight around her hand and drew in a deep breath.
“Let Melissa handle it,” she whispered back. “There is more you can do. But not right now.”
“Damn right there is more I can do,” Dallas grunted. “This is insane. There’s evidence out there that hasn’t been explored. Why isn’t she bringing that up?”
“There are multiple reasons you can appeal, but they all have their own process. She’s hedging her bets. This was the weakest appeal opportunity. The odds of winning an appeal on the grounds of a bad lawyer are low. Courts lean toward the fact that any given lawyer's conduct falls within the range of reasonable professional assistance.”
The gavel cracked down a few moments later, and Tim was escorted by bailiffs from the courtroom. Melissa gathered up her paperwork and moved quickly toward them, almost anticipating the need to move Dallas into the hallway.
“What about the evidence, the things I’ve told you? Why didn’t you bring those up?” Dallas looked ready to pounce, to call everyone back in and force them to hear him out.
“We’ll get there,” Melissa said, raising a cautionary hand. “There’s a process to all of this. It won’t move as quickly as you’d like, but we are moving forward. The examples you’re calling evidence may not even be admissible in court, let alone meet the standard required for a new trial to be granted.”
“Can I see him?” Dallas asked, watching his friend disappear through a side door in the corner of the courtroom.
“I’m going back to see him in a few minutes. They won’t let you back. But I’ll tell him you were here and when he’s back at the prison you’ll be sure to set up a visit.” Melissa’s nostrils were flaring now as she checked her watch. “Take him home,” she instructed, eyeing Harlan knowingly.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out today,” Harlan offered, but it fell miles flat against the disappointed faces of Melissa and Dallas.
When Melissa turned and walked away without a goodbye, Harlan could sense the tension between them wasn’t based on anything besides frustration for lack of progress. Both seemed passionate about finding the truth but didn’t agree on how to do it.
“What kind of evidence have you gathered?” Harlan asked as she practically ran to keep up with Dallas.
“It’s complicated,” he grunted, not sparing her a glance as he plowed forward.
“Try me,” she challenged. “Maybe some fresh eyes could help. I’m good at this kind of stuff.”
“You’re good at proving a man innocent of murder?” Dallas asked, his anger channeled at her. Expected and easy to forgive.
“I’m better than no one. I’m better than going home and staring at the same stack of papers, waiting for something new to pop out. Plus, I make a great ham and cheese sandwich.”
“What about your girls?” Dallas
asked, his rigid stance softening some as though he were warming to the idea.
“I’m going to get them at my mother’s house soon. She’s got a great study. We can set up in the house while the girls play. They’ll be glad to stay longer.”
“Ham and cheese?” he asked, mock intrigue lighting his face.
“Yep, I’ll even cut the crust off if you say the magic words.” She winked as she turned and kept walking.
“This almost one-night stand is dragging out longer than you said,” Dallas joked with a raspy laugh. Flashes of last night’s fleeting passion rippled over her body as he said the words, and she could tell it showed on her face. His eyes were raking over her and a flush filled her cheeks.
“Never mind,” she replied, pursing her lips. “You’ll have to cut the crust off yourself.”
Chapter 8
Dallas knew the Kallings were wealthy. He imagined them as well off enough to eat at fancy restaurants and upgrade their cars whenever they pleased. But it wasn’t until he and Harlan pulled up to the family home that he realized they were a whole different level of rich. An empire. Billionaires.
“Nice place,” he chuckled as they stepped out of the car. “Why in the hell would your brother enlist in the military if he had a place like this?”
“Emmitt was lost most of his life. It was one arrest after another. The family name got him off a few times, but eventually he knew he’d die if he stayed around here much longer. Or my mother would die of shame. She takes reputation very seriously. My father had already damaged it; Emmitt was making it worse. You seem to forget money doesn’t solve all your problems.”
“Right,” Dallas replied, sounding unconvinced. His father had been a very wealthy man. A media mogul who struck it rich by discovering a few actresses who stayed loyal to him during their careers. The only problem was, his mother, Mary Sue, wasn’t cut out for the life of the rich and famous, opting instead to live pay check to pay check with her three sons in South Boston. And his dad never looked back.
Loyal Hearts (The Barrington Billionaires Book 4) Page 4