"I want you so badly. You're beautiful…sexy…brilliant…" The huskiness in his voice as he shared his praise around and between kisses wound the coil of need deep within her body.
When his hands slid under her robe to cup her bottom and pull her close, she raised the white flag of surrender. Right or wrong, this was going to happen. "Cody?"
"Hmmm…." He burrowed deep into the curve of her neck, sending a trail of goose bumps skittering down her body.
"Batter up. Time to hit a home run."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The sound of the door opening and her name being called shot Evelyn out of bed in a panic. Tossing aside the comforter, she effectively ripped away the blanket of contentment they'd created making love in the early hours of the morning. She scoured the floor for her robe, finally locating it draped on the stool by the window. She grinned, even though no one could see, remembering how it ended up there.
"Evelyn?"
Nathan? Dammit! What was he doing here? She grabbed the robe, drawing it around her body as she made a beeline for the door. No time for any other clothing. As quietly as possible, she closed the door and hurried downstairs. "Nathan, what the hell are you doing here, and since when do you just let yourself in?"
"It is my house."
"Used to be. Not anymore. You got the pool girl, I got the house. You let yourself in again, and we're going to have a problem." First item on her agenda would be to get a locksmith out to change each and every lock. It had been on the list of things to do after the divorce, but work and kids consumed most of her time these days.
"You're crankier than usual."
Don't engage. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I'm going to ask you one more time. What are you doing here, and why aren't you with the boys?"
"Your dad invited them and Annie over to help him make pancakes this morning. I dropped them off and will pick them up in time to get Michael to swim practice."
"That explains why you're not with the boys. Why are you here?" Maybe if she kept asking, he'd eventually answer the question. If they were in court, she would've asked the judge to instruct the witness to answer by now.
He held up a piece of cardstock, white with embossed red lettering. "This is why I'm here."
Apparently, a straight answer wasn't in the cards for this question. She closed the distance between them and snatched the item from his hand. An engraved invitation to a reception at the Alexander household celebrating the Bolingbrook Librarian of the Year, Melodie Alexander Bresland. Forgetting about Nathan for a moment, her heart filled with pride for her little sister. She'd done it. Not only had she been recognized for all of her work at the library, but their mother was also honoring the award. Many parties had been thrown in Evelyn's honor. This was the first for her sister.
"This is fantastic. Good for Mel."
Nathan nodded. "Good for Mel. Not so good for you and me."
At his words, her gaze snapped to his. "What do you mean? This has nothing to do with us." For once, she was glad it had nothing to do with her.
"I didn't hand deliver this invite to you. My guess is yours will be in your mailbox today. Your mother gave this to me. She expects me to attend."
"Shit."
"Exactly."
Lack of sleep, emotional exhaustion, and the reoccurring problems in her life stacked weight after weight on her slim shoulders, weighing her down. Dropping to the couch, she finally looked at him. "So, attend the party. Just don't bring Monique."
"Monique is a part of my life. You don't get to dictate what I do and don't do anymore." Irritation resonated in each syllable of his statement.
She fought the urge to laugh and ask for an example of when he'd ever let her dictate what he did or didn't do.
"I don't think you should talk to the lady of the house like that, especially when you're in her house."
Evelyn turned toward the sound of Cody's voice. Under any other circumstances, his appearance would be welcome as his strong, tanned body wrapped in nothing but black pajama pants fueled any number of fantasies she'd be happy to play out right here in the living room. Instead, the testosterone level in the room increased several notches, catapulting them straight into the danger zone. She opened her mouth to try to diffuse the situation before it started.
"What the hell, Evelyn? You're shacking up with some young stud? What would the boys think? What would your mother think?!"
All her indignation turned tail and ran down the length of her leg like a scared child. What would her mother think about her liaison with Cody?
An involuntary shudder slid up her body on the path indignation had blazed on its way out. "It's not what you think."
"Who the hell cares what he thinks?" Cody's voice left no doubt as to where he stood on this matter.
She shot him a look. "Not now." Returning her attention to Nathan, she tried to address his concerns in order. "The boys know nothing about Cody. We're friends. They met him while we were all on vacation with Daniel and Mel in Mexico. They aren't going to know anything about this. Do I make myself clear?"
Nathan moved into her personal space, and she sensed Cody making his way closer. Ah, the joys of elevated levels of testosterone.
She pulled herself to her full five foot eight inches and stepped closer to Nathan, her left arm lifting in a stop motion in Cody's direction. "You aren't even man enough to tell your sons about why you left. I've kept my silence as that is your responsibility to explain. Don't you dare threaten me under my roof, or so help me, Nathan, you will regret it. That's a promise."
Utilizing the old "the best defense is a good offense" strategy worked, and Nathan took a few steps back. Time to move in for the kill. "You're welcome to join the celebration in Mel's honor as you've known her for a long time, but you and I both know mother invited you in order to try to get us back together. I'll handle her, but if you show up with Monique, I can't protect you."
"You think I need you to protect me?"
Evelyn fought to suppress a grin. Apparently, the indignation that scurried from her body must have crawled right up his leg. She crossed her arms, leveled a glare in Nathan's direction, and smiled. "From her? Yes, you do. And you know it."
Emotions flitted across his face, anger chief amongst them. In the end, though, he simply turned and walked out the door. Thank God. This was over—for now. Her jangled nerves contracted, making her body jump when arms surrounded her from behind. Cody.
"So proud of you, sweetheart, standing up to him like that."
"He infuriates me, the pretentious bastard." She might not talk bad about him in front of their children, but she still had her opinions.
"Hell yeah, he is." His hands moved to her shoulders, massaging away the tension taking up permanent residence there. "Come on. Sit down. I'll make us some coffee, and we'll talk."
"Okay." Totally not okay. Her head throbbed from the unrelenting pounding Nathan kick-started the moment he broke into her home. She needed a hot shower and a nap.
His lips grazed her forehead before she sensed his warmth moving toward the kitchen. Finally, alone.
The light from the room receded as she closed her eyes, willing everything back into an orderly quiet place. Her divorce had been amicable enough, but these unresolved issues supported an ongoing blanket of tension.
She only wanted everyone to be happy. Was that too much to ask? Cody makes me happy. Her eyes fluttered open.
He might make her happy, but figuring out how he fit into her life created a puzzle she hadn't been able to solve. She had the boys to consider. This wasn't just about her and what made her happy. It never has been… And the question burrowing deep in her brain, refusing to let go? Could she truly love Cody and make him happy when she wasn't sure these days who she was or if she loved herself right now? Maybe a step back to gain perspective and reevaluate everything needed to be done.
"Coffee's brewing. Should be ready in a few minutes. I'm assuming you take yours black since no evidence of creamer
could be found." He sat beside her and took her hand in a comforting gesture.
"I'm a straight-up kinda gal. No time for additives or games in my life."
"That's what's irritating you with Nathan, isn't it? He's playing games, with your life, with the boys' lives."
Unable to contain the nervous energy rapid firing through her body, she stood and started pacing. "It's not just Nathan. It's everything. My job, my family, my ex…" She stopped long enough to focus on him. "Even you."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Even you. How could two words cut so deeply? She'd basically just lumped him in with her cheating ex and high-maintenance mother. He didn't mind being grouped with her sons. They were okay in his book. Wanting a few extra moments before he engaged in the conversation with her, he returned to the kitchen and poured their coffee. Ironically, he happened to enjoy creamer in his coffee. A quick check of the fridge revealed skim milk. Better than nothing.
Cups in hand, he extended the mug with the straight-up coffee to her. "Here you go. You can probably use some of this about now."
The cloudy blue of her eyes locked on his face as she offered a weak smile. "Thanks."
She enjoyed the warm, strong brew. He might not be a gourmet cook, but he knew how to make a good cup of joe. Life in the military required good coffee, even if you didn't have the best beans or grounds to work with. Evelyn, of course, had only the best, including a personal grinder for the coffee beans. After enjoying a few swallows, he decided against a direct approach.
Placing his mug on a coaster, he retrieved his portfolio. "Can we talk shop for a minute?"
A small glimmer of light diminished the dullness Nathan's visit had caused. "Sure." Her gaze flitted to the portfolio. "You're not wanting to do another sketch, are you?"
His grin emerged again. Regardless of the situation, this woman found a way to make him smile. "I could spend years sketching you, sweetheart, and would love to do so again sometime soon. My creativity spikes when I'm around you. What I want to show you, though, is business."
Her blush warmed his heart and banished the images flashing in his mind of all the different ways, places, and various state of undress he could sketch this woman in. Opening up the portfolio, he started placing one picture after another on the coffee table. From the corner of his eye, he watched her reaction.
She lifted each canvas one by one, studying them intently. He watched as her pupils dilated and she leaned forward, a smile evident on her face. "These are amazing. You're incredibly talented."
Air filled his lungs, puffing his chest out a couple inches. No matter how many times an artist heard sincere praise, the self-doubt you carried about your work always made you relieved another person saw the beauty in your creation. He needed to stay on point, though. He'd relive the pride in her voice and face later. "Look on the back, please."
She turned each one over and scanned the back. He pointed to the sketch closest to him. "Here, in the corner. That's how I sign every original work I do, along with the date I completed it."
Less than a minute transpired before she looked up, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "With the original of the sketch you did for your sister, we can prove it was your design, your creation, and you weren't employed at the time. This is fantastic."
"I'm glad you're pleased. You're actually the reason I remembered this and thought of the angle."
"I am?"
This time his cheeks heated. "I was looking at the picture I drew of you in India the other night. I fell asleep," he grinned, "to hot, smoking dreams, no less. When I woke, I found the picture upside down on the floor, which brought my attention to the initials and, more importantly, the date I'd sketched it."
The rim of the coffee cup hid her smile, but he saw the pride—and embarrassment—on her face from what he'd shared. "What will be our next step from a legal standpoint?"
"When is the first hearing?" Back to business again.
"Wednesday in Judge Winhold's courtroom, Cook County Courthouse. Nine in the morning, I believe."
She nodded. "I'm familiar with both him and his courtroom. Monday morning, we'll file a motion asking to be granted access to all copies of the sketch, which they probably made your sister submit as evidence when they filed their cease and desist order. Once we have access, we can locate the original. I'll demonstrate precedence with these sketches, then we'll finish them off by showing the judge the back of the original, thereby proving ownership belongs to you. Well, to your sister since you gave it to her. As long as the date was after you ended your employment with Alpha Design, you can prove they had no right to sell it without your permission."
She narrowed icy blue eyes in his direction. "There's no chance you gave them permission, did you?"
How many times would she ask the same question in different ways? "As I've told you before, the design was a going away gift for my sister."
Evelyn chewed on her bottom lip. He could almost see the wheels turning inside that remarkable head of hers.
"I still don't understand how Alpha came into possession of it then. We need to close that breach for an airtight case."
Another long draw of his coffee, weakened by the milk, left a bad taste in his mouth. Or maybe the direction of their conversation. Either way, he directed a semiglare in her direction. "One problem at a time. I found the proof you requested. Maybe a little positive reinforcement or encouragement?"
"I don't like to lose."
Stifling a groan, he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."
His statement seemed to fire her up again. "My clients appreciate that character trait in me. As you want this problem to go away, my guess is you want me to win, too." The ice in her eyes hardened even more. "See, that's the problem. Everyone wants a winner representing them, but they don't understand what type of personality it takes to do that over and over again. It's not a switch I can flip on and off at will. This is who I am, twenty-four seven."
Thankfully, he wasn't easily intimidated. She wanted to play direct. He could play too. Ensuring his voice remained level, he locked his gaze on the steely blues and offered a one-word reply, "Bullshit."
He kept her pacing form in sight. Absently, he wondered if she knew how incredibly sexy she came across while arguing her position as though addressing a courtroom full of people dressed in nothing but a silk robe.
"You better explain yourself right now, or get the hell out of my house."
"Nothing to explain, really. You're not like that twenty-four seven. I can count a number of hours when I've witnessed your softer side. You do it with your kids, your sister—even me, especially with me. Therefore, Counselor, your claim that you are guns a-blazin', all you do is win, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week is bullshit."
The look on her face reminded him of the expression, "If looks could kill…" Thankfully, the expression didn't hold true. Otherwise, the daggers from her eyes would've left more holes in his body than an automatic weapon with a full clip.
"Get out."
He stepped back as though she'd slapped him. What the hell? He'd pushed her before. She'd never pushed back so hard. "Ev? Come on. I'm just…"
Her lips barely moved when she cut him off, but the words and meaning were crystal clear. "Get your things, and get the hell out of my house."
One last time his gaze held hers, willing her to understand this wasn't necessary. Wanting her to see how much she meant to him. She neither blinked, flinched, nor showed any signs of softening.
Finally, he nodded in surrender. "You win."
CHAPTER THIRTY
"You win." Those were his parting words. After all they'd shared, secrets confided, and intimacies explored, he'd gathered his things without another word and done exactly what she'd asked. Rubbing her throbbing temples with her fingers, she couldn't believe the one person she didn't want to listen to her rants—actually did. The teeter-totter swings of her life needed to stop, or her head might spontaneously combust.
Curling up on the couch, she pulled her robe tighter around her body. Why did she snap like that? Every time Cody got close, either life pushed him away or she did. A shiver ran through her body as a reason occurred to her. She was scared.
Life had never been scary for her before. She'd always had a plan and known the best way to proceed. Then her marriage crumbled, and her relationship with her children and her mother became troubled. She'd made selfish decisions that hurt Cody. Hell, even the safety of her job—the one thing that had always been a surety in her life—was now being threatened. Nathan's visit had been a tipping point, and she'd taken it out on Cody.
She glanced at the clock. Nine in the morning. She had the whole weekend ahead of her…and she was all alone. She could've spent the entirety of each day in Cody's arms, smiling and making love to her heart's content. Not going to happen now. Only one thing left to do—work. She was running away from her problems, no doubt about it. For a little while, though, she needed to regain a small measure of control until she could figure out how to banish the fear and reclaim her life.
A short ninety minutes later, the comforting surroundings of her corner office in downtown Chicago welcomed her. She'd found a little peace seated behind her stately, hand-carved mahogany desk—a gift from her mother when she made partner. Fresh brewed coffee rested next to her right hand, and the stack of never-ending files at the other. Oddly, all of this brought a bit of respite in the midst of chaos. Time to get to work.
Four hours later, the coffee had gone cold, and she could swear the stack of files hadn't decreased by even an inch. How the hell was that possible? She pulled up her calendar to see when she might be able to put in some extra hours over the next week. Appointment after appointment filled up each day. On Wednesday, she noticed Cody's name, and her chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Regardless of what happened between them this morning, she'd made a commitment to represent him, and she would do nothing less than her very best to ensure the suit against his sister and him was dropped.
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