The Hot Lawyer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #4)

by Alexa Davis

  3. Tucker

  I went over the file almost a dozen times, looking for loopholes or clauses that the new will hadn’t locked out of the older versions. Piper had been thorough. He’d done a good job making the will as airtight as possible. Which left me two tasks. First, to pray for a judge who would give a rat’s ass about a little girl who had just lost her father, and her future. Second, to ask Steve Piper what the hell he’d been thinking, writing a will to deny a four-year-old even pictures of her dead father, without blinking.

  I picked up my phone to check the time, and realized I’d never taken it off silent mode. Not only had Caroline called me back, I had missed a call from Steve as well. His message was short. He knew I was going to represent Libby, and he wanted to meet with me to talk about the will, and what he thought I might be able to do to help Olivia. I breathed a sigh of relief and kicked back in my seat, waiting for Kennedy to notice, and jump up, which she did with a little doggy grunt and the sudden addition of almost eighteen pounds to my lap.

  “I think you’re putting on weight, little sister,” I groused, while she inched up my belly to lick my face. My stomach rumbled, she jumped and stared at me like I’d bit her. “All right, all right. Let’s get your food bowl filled, then I’ll take a chance on whatever I’ve got in the fridge.” I sat up and she slid down my legs, landing with a thump, and stared up at me with her tongue lolling out. After I mashed a can of dog food into her bowl, I looked in the fridge, expecting the worst. Sure enough, it was a food desert. I pulled out one of the last two beers, and shut the door. It would be take out for the third time in a row.

  I ordered enough Chinese to feed me for a couple of days, and sat back down at the table. It had been hard enough not thinking about Libby over the past couple of months, without being thrust headlong into the mess Andrew had made of his life before he had the bad form to die and leave the people who loved him behind. I sighed heavily, rubbing my eyes. I’d call Steve first thing; an early riser, he was always in the office before anyone. I hadn’t been away from my former colleagues long enough to be comfortable with my intimate knowledge of their habits, and I felt a twinge of guilt that I had walked away. But with Andrew gone, there had been no reason to keep banging my head against the brick wall that had been the senior partners of Cripke, Cripke, and Stokes.

  It burned me to know that I’d had such a reputation for my successes, and I’d wasted so much time on loyalty to people who didn’t deserve it. There had to have been more to Andrew’s choices than simply trading in his young, beautiful wife for someone even younger. He’d been closed off, guarded, and even secretive in the months before his marriage ended. I hadn’t seen him happy in so long before he died, I hardly remembered the man who had once been the first to make a joke, who had believed that the sun had risen and set in his daughter’s sweet face.

  I made notes in the margins, unable to concentrate long enough on the paperwork to get anywhere with the memories of Libby’s smooth skin chasing my more intelligent thought processes out the window. I could still feel her soft fingers as she’d run them over my chest and stomach, her mouth following hungry and wet, everywhere she’d touched. My pants pulled tight across my stomach and I stood up to shake it off.

  “Glad it’s just you and me right now, Kennedy,” I scoffed as she glanced up from her cushion and thumped her tail on the floor. I stretched and paced the floor, trying to reconcile the things I’d felt for my best friend’s ex-wife with the loyalty I’d had for Andrew. No matter how hard I tried to forgive him, I was still angry at him. Mad that he’d left the woman of my dreams for a pale shadow of her grace and beauty. Furious that he’d let down that little girl. The sun dipped further down, and the shadows grew longer across the condominium. I grabbed my phone and texted the nearest Lancaster, my younger brother George.

  George was married and getting used to life with their sweet little adopted daughter, Lilly-Jade. He wasn’t one for carousing anyway, but I’d tried to leave him and Callie alone for a bit as they adjusted to life as parents. I knew I was desperate for company the second I picked up the phone, still thinking of Libby, and I’d brave an infant and an Afghanistan veteran-with-PTSD-turned-stressed-out new father, before I’d chance making Libby even more uncomfortable about coming to see me for help.

  He texted right back and begged me to bring beer and food. I told him I’d already ordered Chinese and I’d bring it with me and I’d stop for beer. The food arrived right as I emerged from my bedroom in jeans and a graphic t-shirt depicting the Incredible Hulk and the phrase “I don’t people well” that my youngest brother, Jackson, had given me the Christmas before. Kennedy jumped and whined when she saw her leash in my hand, and I grabbed the dog treats and stuck them in the take-out bag for her to share with her fur-cousins, George’s service dog, Xavier, and Callie’s little love-sponge lap dog, Slinky.

  Their house was lit like Christmas as I pulled up the driveway, and when no one answered, I let myself in, only to wonder if I should leave the food and go. Somewhere in the house, there was a crying baby, and my brother was on his hands and knees looking under sofas and chairs for something, as the dogs jumped and played over and around him.

  In an act of mercy, I let all three dogs outside and looked for Callie. She was in the nursery bouncing little L.J. in her arms, begging her to stop crying. When she saw me, all she could do was shake her head, while I tried not to smile. I held out my hands for the baby, not because I wanted to hold her, but I figured whatever George was looking for, Callie was more likely to spot it and stop the noise.

  “She lost her binky. You know, the cute one you gave us with the moustache, that said ‘I moustache you a question' on it?” I immediately handed Lilly-Jade back to her mother.

  “I had bought two at the time, but one fell between the seats. Let me see if I can dig it out.” I said, jogging to the front door. I looked at George, who had finally noticed my arrival. “You know a dog probably ate it, right?” I asked. He didn’t respond, but the look on his face was reply enough. I dug around under the passenger seat of my Lexus until I felt the cardboard that held the pacifier between my fingers and yanked it out, scratching my arm on the springs and drawing blood in the process.

  Pacifier in hand, I quick-stepped back into the house and tossed it to my brother, who peeked around the corner to see if his wife was watching, before giving it a quick rinse under the tap and limping it in to the nursery. I heard him say something that sounded like, “desperate times…” and he walked back out, just as the screaming came to an abrupt stop.

  “You okay?” I asked. He laughed and reached for the bags of Chinese food.

  “She is damn particular about her binky.” He snorted and held up the dog treats, arching an eyebrow, then tossed the bag to me and started filling plates. “Callie was worried ‘cause we didn’t boil it first. I suggested not waiting was worth the risk.” I popped the caps off a couple of beers and handed him one.

  “No kidding it was. Is she going to be okay now?”

  “Yes, I mean, now she might sleep right through the night.” He shrugged. “I cannot believe that stupid pink mustachioed thing is not only her go-to soother, but the only one she’ll take.” I grinned.

  “That makes my day, at least, now that I got to be the hero and it’s quiet in here.” Callie scoffed at me as she rounded the corner, sans baby. She rubbed her temples and accepted a plate heaping with chicken lo mein, with a look of gratitude on her face.

  “Tucker, I owe you. I thought my biggest problem tonight would be to get Xavier to let me trim his nails, but after the last hour, I’m going to let one of my groomers handle it at the shop tomorrow, and call it good.” She took a bite of food and closed her eyes in ecstasy. “I will make you enough enchiladas to feed you for a month, just for having that stupid pacifier in your car.”

  “I bled for that binky,” I complained, showing her the long deep scratch down my arm. George laughed and shook his fork at me.

  “He’s angling
for tamales, you know that, right?” He scoffed.

  “Tamales are for the biggest acts of heroism, it’s true. I think you’ve earned a few spicy pork tamales to go with that tray of enchiladas. And the tamales, you can have tonight.” I fist pumped and gave my brother a wink.

  “Totally worth the loss of blood.” George let me finish eating without asking why I’d suddenly needed company so bad, but I could see him waiting for me to tell him. Callie, on the other hand, was happily ignoring the heavy silence between us, likely just enjoying that there was silence at all.

  She motioned us into the living room with a new beer for each of us, cleaning up the mess we’d made. Meanwhile, George let our furry friends in and we gave them the treats I’d brought. He settled in, still watching me, waiting, while I pointedly ignored him. Finally, Callie rejoined us and broke the silence.

  “Oh, for the love of God, Tucker, what is up with you? Usually, you’ve shared three stories about how someone from your old firm called up threatening you because they lost another client, or something ridiculous that Jackson and C.J. are up to, trying to make up their minds about whether to move back to Texas, or something. What’s eating you?”

  “Libby came by the office today. Andrew wrote a new will before he died, and cut her, and worse, Olivia, out of it.” I downed some beer and shrugged. “Another colleague handled it and did everything exactly the way it needed to be done, so that stripper would get everything, and a little girl would lose her father, and everything that could remind her of him.”

  Callie sucked in a breath and leaned forward in her seat, and George clenched his jaw. They both knew how important it had been to me when Andrew and Libby had asked me to be her godfather. I’d made it to church for a couple of months ahead of time, just to make sure I was prepared for the responsibility of being there for her if her parents couldn’t be. At the time, the worst thing I had thought possible was when Libby had come to me as a teen, looking for advice on how to elope.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Callie asked quietly, pain evident in her voice even as she pulled Slinky up into her lap.

  “I’m going to find out if Steve really has a soul, or if he wants me to call him so he can gloat about his handiwork. Then, I’m going to have coffee with Libby and either give her hope, or tear her heart out and stomp on what little is left.” I lifted my beer in salute and drained it, and waved Callie back to her seat when she tried to get out from under Slinky.

  “If you’re getting up, I wouldn’t mind a bottle of water,” George asked. His face was tight and strained around the eyes. I nodded and took his bottle from him and headed toward the fridge.

  “How you doing, anyway? You were limping more than usual earlier.” He sighed and shrugged.

  “I got a little carried away at work and hurt myself a little. This time, it’s more of an ‘old man’ thing, not really so much the claymore incident.”

  “What he means to say is that he tried to carry a beam across a set of steel joists, slipped, and almost broke his ankle.”

  “Sprained. I sprained my ankle. It was a ten-inch fall, for Christ’s sake.” He complained as I handed him his water. Callie shook her head and glared at him and I couldn’t help but smile. It slid from my face as a quick stab of envy shot through me, watching them together. George was my little brother. He had managed to run from his happiness for years, and here he was, living exactly the life he should be. Suddenly, it felt like I should have stayed home alone, going over the cases that I was ready to ignore, just to give Libby all my attention.

  Callie seemed to feel the shift in my mood. She lifted Slinky onto the couch next to her and stood behind George, watching me.

  “Who is she, Tucker?” She asked, rubbing her husband’s shoulders, and smiling wryly at me.

  “Libby and Olivia are in a bad place. They need me and I’m not sure I can get them what they deserve,” I confessed. “In fact, I have the definite feeling that my best friend completely screwed over the people who loved him most in the world, and left me to scatter the pieces, instead of putting them back together.”

  “It’s more than that, Tuck, I can tell. Don’t forget how long I’ve been a member of your family.” I felt the heat of embarrassment color my face and stared down at my hands.

  “I went to Libby after Andrew died. They were already divorced, I just wanted to be there for her and Olivia both. What happened, I don’t regret, but I guess I don’t really understand either. Now, it’s… difficult to be around her, and she is afraid to even be alone in a room with me.”

  “I doubt that she, or anyone, is afraid of you, Tuck. Just do what you can to be a good friend to her. Don’t get so hung up on your own feelings that you can’t help little Olly.” I managed a wry smile.

  “I got to meet with her in the morning. I should go home and get some work done before I get to tell her that I drank the night away with my favorite brother and forgot about her problems. Clients never seem to appreciate hearing that.” George scoffed and Callie pretended to smack him again, but let him catch her hand and kiss her fingers. “Yeah, okay. I’m leaving now, before you decide to make out in your living room like a couple of teenagers.”

  George started to fight his way to a standing position, to the dismay of his wife and the protective pit-bull at his side. I motioned for him to stay seated, and woke Kennedy up from her nap next to me on the sofa. Xavier was the perfect gentleman and walked Kennedy and I to the door, giving her a little extra nuzzle that raised my eyebrows and made Callie chuckle.

  I was in the car, before I realized that I’d left my midnight snack and next day’s food behind. I hit a gas station for chips, chocolate, and caffeine before heading home to the solitude of the condo. I had postponed for about as long as I could stand, but it was going to be a long night if I was going take care of Libby—let alone my other cases. Loneliness would have to wait. There was work to be done.

  4. Libby

  Five o’clock in the morning was a blessing, after the night I’d spent tossing and turning. After I’d had a long, hot shower and had spent twenty minutes of picking through my closet, Olivia joined me in the bedroom. She watched me change into yet another outfit, and shook her head.

  “You look pretty in the blue dress, Mommy. You should wear that one.” I arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Why does it matter if I’m pretty?” She rolled her eyes at me. “Mom, I’m almost five years old. I know that you like to feel pretty when you talk to Uncle Tuck.” My eyes widened. “Don’t worry, he’s my favorite too. If you want, I can wear my pink dress, and I can come too.”

  “You think Uncle Tuck is my favorite?”

  “He’s your best friend. He came when Daddy went away, and he made you smile again. I like it better when you smile. It makes me happy.” Her little face screwed up as she tilted her head to one side. “I was wrong. Wear the pink and white one. It makes you look like you’re not a mom yet.” I laughed aloud at it, and hung the pale blue sundress back up in the closet.

  “I like looking like I’m your mom, by the way,” I countered as I slipped the thin fabric of the dress over my head.

  “Well, of course you do, Mom,” her exasperated little voice made me smile, and I was glad my face was still behind the gauzy fabric. “But don’t you think it would be nice for you to get a boyfriend? Teacher said that everybody is happier when they aren’t alone.” I sighed and made a mental eye roll of my own. Paul had been on the market for a boyfriend for a while, and my little pitcher with big ears didn’t miss a thing their favorite teacher said.

  I sent her to her room to get dressed and made her favorite breakfast: fresh-cut fruit and toast with an egg on the side. She hadn’t gotten around to trying the egg yet, but every morning, she asked anyway, saying she was almost ready to try something new. It wasn’t until I was putting her Tinkerbell dishes on the table with her breakfast that I realized she had started asking for that scrambled egg after she’d seen me make eggs for Tucker the morning after h
e had spent the night.

  She skipped into the room and climbed up onto the chair all by herself, even though I hovered nearby. She ate her breakfast, kicking her feet, and humming to the radio. When she got to the egg, she sniffed, then picked at it with her fork, pushing it around the small plate until the fluffy mass was a pile of crumbs.

  “Not today, Punkin?” I asked, clearing the dishes from the table in exchange for a damp cloth to wipe her hands and face.

  “I think I will tomorrow. I just wasn’t in the mood to try something new today.” She hopped down from her seat and got her shoes on without being reminded, and gathered her sweater and her backpack.

  The drive to the preschool was too short, and before I knew it, I was headed to Jitters for my morning appointment and the biggest cup of coffee I could get my hands on. I felt sick for not being more honest with Tucker. I may not have been given the chance to finish college, but I knew almost as much as my husband had about law, from a decade of acting as his unpaid paralegal. As far as I could tell, the new will my ex-husband had created was solid as a brick wall. Tucker was my last chance to push through and protect Olivia from her father’s breakdown.

  I ordered a latte for myself and an Americano, extra-hot, for Tucker, and sat outside, so he wouldn’t have to look for me. My hands shook and my toe tapped against the leg of the table as I tried to imagine the things he’d say. He would do his best to find a way through the mess that Andrew had made, not just for Olivia, but for Andrew himself. I’d seen his face when I told him what his friend, my husband, had done. He would make this right, or fight till he had nothing left to give, to let his friend have honor in death. What I would’ve given to have met Tucker first. Before Andrew had taken me down his rabbit-hole of keeping up appearances, putting his success and his desires before my needs—or Olivia’s. Tucker was helping me because he was the man he’d always believed Andrew to be.