* * *
* * *
Once in the apartment, I kick off my high heels and stand in front of the large picture window, mesmerized by the twinkling lights in the harbor. This is a nice apartment, close to my office, plenty of places to eat and shop. More coffee shops than are probably necessary. But this is not home.
Home is with Alex.
I close my eyes and let my mind drift to memories of living with him. I've always been comfortable there, like I belong, my sanctuary from the craziness of the world. Alex offered me a safe place to heal, and from the moment I agreed to live with him, it became ours.
Our little family—Jake, Thomas, Maggie—a merry band of misfits, but so much love and caring between all of us. Something I missed throughout most of my childhood. To have found it with the world's best-known, confirmed bachelor is something short of a miracle.
A knock at the door draws me out of my memories. I open the door, Alex is standing there, looking as sexy as ever. I step to the side, and he walks into the foyer.
"What are you doing here?" I close the door and walk past him into the living room.
He gives a little shrug, a playful grin on his face, and a gleam in his eye. "I asked Will to give my acceptance speech… I didn't want to spend another minute away from you. I miss you so much."
My heart is banging against my chest, and my pulse is racing faster than should be healthy. Everything about Alex makes me giddy yet calm.
"I miss you, too."
"I'm sorry about everything that happened tonight, and that you felt you had to go. I realize the reason you couldn't stay is directly related to my lying about John. I don't know how to fix this—how to fix us."
Seeing him here, knowing the pain in his eyes is because of me, because of my refusal to let go of the hurt, is more than I can handle. I need him. I want our life back, the future we've been planning together. Moving across the room to him, I run my fingers through his hair, and kiss him. It's not the soft, sweet kiss we shared earlier. This is desperate, needy, and on the fringe of being out of control.
"What do you want, Kylie? Tell me what you need."
What do I need? I need him. All of him. The good, the bad—every part of him.
I place my lips close to his ear. "Make love to me."
Those beautiful blue eyes lift to mine, dancing, but narrowing just slightly, almost disbelieving he heard me correctly. I hold his gaze and pray he can see what is in my heart, the desire I'm barely containing, the ache only he can alleviate.
* * *
* * *
I snuggle against Alex's chest, the place I've been longing to be all week, and lightly graze my fingers over his abs. He chuckles as I circle his belly button, squirms to get away, and finally grabs my hand and lifts it high in the air, far away from anything ticklish.
I smile and gaze into his eyes. "What are you thinking?"
He takes a deep breath. "Hmm, well, let's see. How beautiful you looked in that dress tonight. How you were even more gorgeous once I got you out of it. How much I love to see your lips part just before you have an orgasm…" He lazily runs his fingers through my hair. "It's amongst my happiest moments—knowing you're experiencing intense pleasure, and I'm the one providing it."
"Mmm, you certainly do." I lift my lips to his, his hand caresses my face, and we kiss.
Muffled buzzing comes from somewhere in the bedroom. We both still for a minute, listen, and try to figure out what it is.
"I think it's my cell phone," Alex says.
I sit up and look around the bedroom. "Where is it?"
"Pants pocket."
I slide to the edge of the bed, grab his pants off the floor, and fish his phone out of the front pocket. Jake's name is on the screen, so I hit the answer button, and sit next to Alex. He runs his hand up and down the bare skin of my back, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
"Hey, Jake," I say.
There's a pause before he responds. "Uh, hey, Kylie. I'm just checking to see if Mr. Stone needs me to hang around?"
I glance over at Alex, satisfied smile on his face, his eyes a bright and gleaming blue. "No, you can take off."
"Okay, sounds good. Have a good night."
"Wait, Jake?" I pause. "Can you stop back by tomorrow? I'll need some help getting my things back home. I don't think everything will fit in the Porsche."
"Of course”, Jake says. "Just call me when you're ready."
I thank him and end the call. Alex's eyes narrow a bit, his smile a bit more tentative than it was a moment ago.
"You're coming home?" he asks.
"I thought I might, if that's okay with you?"
Before I know what's happening, Alex rolls us over, and he is on top of me. Kisses are landing over every part of my face, neck and chest.
"I'll take that as a yes," I giggle, and let my fingers sift through his hair.
He glances up and smiles, and I know I'm doing the right thing. It's the right time—and I'm more than ready to move on with my life. A life with Alex.
He dips his head to kiss me, but I place my hands on either side of his face and force him to stop before he reaches my lips.
"I need to tell you something, first." Alex pulls his head back, his eyes wary. I take a deep breath. "I'm so sorry I left without giving you a chance to explain. I have to stop doing that to us. I want to be with you, create a life together, and that means compromise, and not throwing it all away when we have problems. But you have to stop trying to protect me from everything and hiding things from me. I'm stronger than you think. And, yeah, finding out about John may have initially thrown me for a loop, but it would've been so much better coming from you than him."
Alex strokes my cheek with his thumb. "I know you're strong—it's one of the things that first attracted me to you." He blows out air in one long exhale. "I just get overwhelmed at the thought of you ever getting hurt, and I try to prevent it. And, yes, I understand handling it in that manner ends up hurting you even more. I'm learning, Kylie. I know we're at our strongest when we work together. And I will try to remind myself of that fact when my instinct to protect you takes over."
18
The days run together as the hearing approaches. Every night Alex asks me how preparations are going, and I respond as positively as I can. But it's a farce. I feel anything but positive about this trial. So much is riding on it— Alex has so much faith in me. I see it in his eyes when we talk about the case, but it's faith I don't share.
If James is acquitted, it will kill Alex and that will devastate me. I want so badly to win this for him and his family, ensure James serves his life sentence without the possibility of parole. Victory is there, in front of me, taunting me. I can see every point the defense will make, every allegation they will put before the jury, and I can counter every single one. So why am I so anxious?
Late at night, after Alex is asleep, I lay in bed and envision the entire trial. I go over every piece of evidence, every question I anticipate asking, and what the defense's objections will be.
My mind goes blank, and I'm suddenly flustered, ignorant of the case I've spent the last few weeks preparing to present to the court. Completely tongue-tied as I watch the faces of the jury stare at me while I fumble through questioning the witness. The ache of failure is so real, I wake in a cold sweat, and doubt my competence.
My cell phone rings, and I press the hands-free button on my steering wheel to answer the call.
"Hey, Kylie, it's Lisa. I'm going over some of the stuff you emailed me, and something's just not making sense."
"Okay." I perk up a bit. Lisa and I have worked many cases together and I trust her instincts. "What's bothering you?"
"The police arrested James later that night, after Ellen's death. I'm going over the police report for James's arrest, and part of its missing."
"Which part?" I turn down the driveway and slow as I approach the house. I want to finish this conversation in the car. I don't like discussing the case in front of Alex.
It's too personal to him, and when I'm knee-deep in a case, my filters are turned off, and I make what appears to him to be callous remarks.
I can hear Lisa's inhale. She must be holding her breath, and then she slowly releases it. "The blood-alcohol test."
"So there's no way to show just how drunk he was that night," I state.
"Or wasn't…"
Lisa's word sting like a slap across the face. "You think the police department lost it on purpose?"
"I don't know, but it makes the defense's argument that it was a cover-up to frame James for something Alex did a little easier to make – circumstantially, anyway."
"On top of the questionable police interview of Alex the next day…" Shit! "Okay, let me think about it and we'll talk later."
I'm missing something, the one piece which will bring it all into focus, but I'll be damned if I can get a grasp on it. I swing into the garage, turn off the engine, and walk into the kitchen as I end the call.
Maggie is in the pantry and startles when she sees me. "Oh, Kylie, I didn't hear you come in. I'm just putting groceries away."
"Anything good?" I hope she remembered to restock my Cocoa Puffs. It's my go–to breakfast item when I'm prepping for trial.
"Your coffee, and I'm pretty sure you won't run out for a while. There must be thirty bags. Took up almost an entire shelf."
I chuckle. Well, Alex really went overboard, which isn't all that surprising – king of grand gestures that he is – but that amount of coffee all at once borders on the ridiculous. Thank goodness I finally got a taste for it. If it hadn't been a gift from him, I would've thrown it out after my first cup.
Even in the midst of our separation, when I was so mad at him I didn't want to speak to him, something inside me melted knowing he put effort into a thoughtful gift he knew I would appreciate. Thinking about it now sends a rush of warmth through me. God, I love that man. "Well, I'll take some into the office with me. Maybe that'll free up some space."
I walk around the island toward the foyer. "Is Alex in his study?"
"I believe so." Maggie grabs a box off the counter and heads back into the pantry.
My heels click against the travertine tile as I cross the foyer, the echo bouncing off the twenty-foot ceiling above. My cell phone buzzes in my hand, and I answer without looking at it.
"Hey, darlin'," Ryan's voice greets me.
"Hey, what's going on in the big city?"
"Well, Paul and I have some news and a favor to ask you –"
"It's short notice and hopefully it won't interfere with your hearing." Paul adds over the speakerphone.
"Is this about the adoption?" A pang of guilt hits me square in the chest. I haven't been keeping up with where they are in the process despite my promise to help them.
"No," Ryan answers. "It's not about the adoption."
There's a long pause, and my chest tightens. "Are you going to tell me or leave me hanging here?"
"We're getting hitched," Paul says.
The words sink in—married— and my heart floods with pure joy.
"What?" I shriek. "Oh my God. When?" I glance up just as Alex bolts out of his office and into the hallway.
"Thanksgiving weekend."
"Okay, I'm almost certain the trial will be wrapped up by then." I rap on the wood column near me. No need to jinx myself. "What's the favor?"
It's silent on the other end.
"I swear, if you don't spill it, I will beat the ever-living crap out of both of you when I see you."
Alex walks towards me, his eyebrows tightly knit.
Paul finally speaks up. "K, we need you to stand up with us – be our best woman or maid of honor – whatever you'd be called."
Alex stops in front of me. I reach out, grasp his hand, and tears well in my eyes. "Of course, I will." A lump lodges in my throat, and I struggle to speak over it. "I'd be honored… ", my voice trails off and I choke back a sob.
"You okay, darlin'?"
"Yeah," I manage to get out.
Okay? Okay doesn't come close to what I'm feeling. The two people who have been my closest friends for so many years—my brothers, my family—are going to make a commitment to one another and want me to stand up with them as they do. My heart soars, like a bird in flight, peace gliding around me while pure contentment settles over me.
"Okay, we'll talk to you when you stop boohooing," Paul says, always the smartass.
"Shut up, Paul," I admonish, and take a deep breath. "I love you guys and I'm so happy for you."
"We love you, too, K." Paul's voice is soft, which brings more tears streaming down my cheeks. I end the call, place the phone to my chest, and sigh.
"What the hell is going on?" Alex's hands grip my upper arms, his eyes intense as they gaze at me.
"Paul and Ryan are getting married," I squeak out.
"Oh, Jesus, Kylie. You scared me half to death." He chuckles and pulls me against him.
I nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his musky scent. "I'm sorry."
"So, this is you happy?" he asks.
I nod my head against his chest.
"You are one-of-a-kind, my love." He kisses my cheek. "Come on, let's get a drink." He leads me into the living room and straight to the bar.
I drop onto the couch, sink into the cushions, and rest my head against the back. A glass clinks next to me, I open one eye, and spot the drink in front of my face. I lift my head, sit up, and take the glass from Alex. Gin and tonic. The man knows me too well.
"Thanks." I smile and take a sip. It chills my mouth and throat before the alcohol burns a path to my stomach. "Mmm, just what I need."
Alex sits beside me and turns to face me. His arm rests on the back of the couch, his fingers twist and twirl in my hair. "Tough day?" he asks, eyeing me, and takes a drink of his Macallan.
"Not really. Just making sure we have everything in order for the hearing. The exhibits are all numbered and logged. Matt and I agreed he would handle opening and closing arguments, so that's off my list. I'm stressing about the projection in the courtroom. Lisa promises she'll be there to run it, but you know—law school." I shrug. "The usual pretrial worries. "
His eyes have a dreaminess to them, and his mouth raises at the corners. "I love when you talk legalese to me. It's so sexy and it totally turns me on."
I laugh. "That seriously brings your sanity into question."
"That ship sailed long ago, baby. People have been questioning my sanity for a good portion of my life."
I place my finger under his chin and pull it toward me. "Luckily, I have a thing for crazy billionaires." I place my lips on his, scotch mixing with the citrusy remnants of my drink.
"I can't wait to see you in action," he murmurs.
My heart flips and flops painfully in my chest. I pull away, my pulse racing. "Are you coming to the hearing?" Please say no, please say no.
"Absolutely, I wouldn't miss watching my favorite attorney rip Geoffrey Hamilton to shreds."
"It's really boring, you remember from the last trial you came to. It's not like a TV trial."
His eyes narrow slightly and dance back and forth between mine as if he's trying to catch a glimpse of what I'm feeling. "Are you trying to dissuade me from coming?"
"No, that's not it at all." Lie. "I just don't want you to be disappointed."
Alex nuzzles his nose against my neck. "Well, if you're arguing, it has to be sexy. It's inevitable, and I want to see you take command of that courtroom just like you have in every other courtroom I've seen you in."
Something stirs in the pit of my stomach. Bile threatens to force its way up my throat. My chest seizes, fingers of pain squeeze my lungs, and my heart knocks out an unsteady beat. How do I tell him his presence in the courtroom will heighten my overloaded anxiety? Especially when he just wants to be supportive.
Doubt courses through my veins, and pools at the base of my skull, fog clouds my ability to think clearly. I've never experienced this before – not in law school, not my f
irst case, not once during the capital murder trial. Maybe I should call Ryan, but he'll worry and with the wedding and a new baby to plan for, he needs to focus on himself and Paul right now.
"Hey," Alex interrupts my thoughts. "Everything okay?"
I muster up a smile I'm just not feeling. "Yeah," I sigh. "I'm okay."
Alex takes my drink from my hand, places both of our glasses on the coffee table and clasps his hands around mine. "Talk to me. I can see you’re worrying about something. Tell me what it is so I can help."
We promised no more secrets the night we reconciled. I have to be true to that—but I don't have to tell him everything.
"I just don't want you to be upset by what the defense says. They'll try to create doubt—and they're going to use you as the scapegoat, Alex."
"They've been doing that already. I deal with people questioning my involvement on a daily basis."
"It'll be different in there. They will make faces, or write notes, and you'll start to surmise the reasons they're doing it, and probably conclude they're going to decide against you when they haven't even begun to deliberate. It will very likely frustrate the hell out of you if the defense looks like it's making points. I just don't want you to worry about anything. James will not be acquitted. He'll go back to prison where he belongs." I swallow over the lump in my throat, clamp my eyes shut so he can't see the lie I’m about to tell him. "I promise."
His thumb caresses the side of my cheek. "I know, baby. I have confidence you'll win. There is no doubt in my mind at all."
Doubt is my constant companion these days. The fear I'll lose this case. The overwhelming sensation John is closer than ever to exacting revenge. And the knowledge that the tether of my sanity is unraveling and is tenuous, at best.
I gaze into Alex's eyes, so alive and full of hope. I want to dive into them, immerse myself in the confidence–allow his unending strength to rejuvenate me, and release me from this dark place where I'm imprisoned.
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