Thea sold our place in Thomaston so she and Ramsey could buy a little cabin in the mountains. Living alone for the first time was a definite change, but I found a rental house closer to both work and Joe. Who needed a roommate when I had a class of thirty smiling six-year-olds to keep me busy?
My newfound loner status worried Joe. Emotionally, I was way past needing someone to check in on me, but he knew all too well how much I missed Thea. Misty was Joe’s receptionist, but every Friday morning, he had her drive him past the barbershop to drop him off at my place. I thought it was sweet. To hear him tell it, he just liked chatting over coffee while I got ready, but I knew he was really just keeping an eye on me. It was fine. I liked the company. I’d drop him back off at the barbershop on my way to the school.
This was exactly how Joe and I ended up in the car together when Jonathan Caskey not only pulled us over at seven thirty in the morning, but also searched my vehicle and purse and then arrested me for the possession of marijuana that was absolutely not mine.
There. All caught up. Welcome to my hell.
“Hey!” I shouted at a uniformed officer as he approached my cell. I’d been cuffed behind my back all day, blisters rubbing on my wrists, my shoulders aching.
It was getting late and the drunks were starting to roll in. Slurring and stumbling, some of them flat-out belligerent, yet they were totally free inside that relic of a holding cell.
My head was pounding and I was pissed beyond all belief. It was a Friday, but shockingly, not a single judge had been available all damn day to set my bail. Cop after cop had told me it was out of their control, but the grin on Jonathan Caskey’s face each time he went out of his fucking way to pass my cell said otherwise.
“I have the right to an attorney, you know. It’s the law!”
Clovert’s very own Barney Fife stopped at my door, and after a quick unlock routine, he slid it open. “If you would shut up for once, I’ll take you to him.”
My back shot straight and relief crashed over me. Finally, Joe must have been able to find me a lawyer in town willing step on some Caskey toes—and hopefully Caskey skulls too. Jonathan’s minion roughly grabbed my arm and slammed the door shut behind me.
I winced. “Could you take it easy?”
He swung an icy gaze my way and lifted a bandaged hand in the air. “Did you take it easy on me when I was processing you?”
It was safe to say I had not. I’d bit this guy and kicked Jonathan in the shin. It was a real miss because I was aiming for his balls, but at least I’d made contact.
“You’ll survive. I don’t have rabies or anything.”
“So you say.” He hauled me down the short hall before stopping at an open doorway.
I’d had a lot of surprises in my life. Some rendered me speechless. Some broke my heart. Some changed the trajectory of my life as a whole.
But nothing, and I mean nothing, surprised me more than walking into that tiny room only big enough for a table and two folding chairs at the Clovert police station and finding Camden Cole standing inside.
This wasn’t any version of Camden Cole I’d ever known, not even the sexy twenty-two-year-old I’d left naked and tangled in sheets five years earlier or the dozen pictures I’d obsessed over on Instagram.
No, this was Camden Cole all grown up.
Any other day, I would have flat-out drooled at the sight of this man. Gray three-piece suit. White shirt. Dark-gray tie. Thick muscles testing the skill of his tailor, because there was no way that suit had been anything other than custom made. He was roughly the same height, but his lanky frame now held the bulk of a man. His presence filled the room. Gone were the subtle curves of his jaw; now, he was all razor-sharp angles and he carried them with the resolute square of his shoulders.
Those blue eyes that had pierced my soul when I was only eleven years old were the same though. Well, they were the same if you didn’t count the way they lit with a malevolent rage the minute they landed on me.
“How long has she been in those cuffs?” he snapped, his deep baritone demanding answers.
In that second, it didn’t matter if we were standing in the middle of a police station and I probably looked like hell, as a chill rolled down my spine. It was all too similar to the one I usually felt in the shower, images of Camden on the backs of my lids, my fingers playing between my legs long after the water had run cold.
“Well,” my badged escort drawled. “Caskey said—”
“All day,” I jumped in, my voice breathier than I’d thought possible in my current predicament.
But come on. Camden Cole was fucking sexy.
“Caskey!” Camden boomed so loudly that the echo assaulted the entire room. His brown leather shoes—that were thankfully not his signature hideous penny loafers but rather seriously sexy in a way I was unaware men’s shoes could be—pounded the tile floor as he stormed from the room.
He disappeared from my sight, but his voice could have been heard two counties over.
“Explain to me how keeping a woman in cuffs for over twelve hours while in a holding cell is either justified or reasonable!”
Jonathan Caskey’s voice joined the conversation. “She was violent and resisting arrest. She bit one of my guys.”
I noticed the coward left out the part where I’d punted him in the shin.
“And reasonable?” Camden snarled. “You’re telling me there was no other practical way for you to restrain a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound woman other than cuffing her for twelve hours inside a holding cell, inside your police station. You have lost your fucking mind, and I swear to you, if she’s not out of those cuffs in the next thirty seconds, you’re going to lose your badge too.”
Oh. My. God, I was going to orgasm right then and there. Camden Cole was gorgeous and powerful.
A smug grin pulled at my lips as Jonathan stomped into the room, Camden right behind him, barking all the way.
“Your gross ineptitude to follow procedure today is sickening. There were two judges taking bail hearings, yet my client sat in a cell? Cuffed no less.”
My client.
My client.
My client?
Holy shit. Gorgeous, powerful Camden Cole was an attorney—my attorney?
My smile grew so big I feared it would swallow my face. His stormy gaze sliced to mine, and I actually blanched on impact.
“Ms. Stewart, is there a reason you’re grinning while standing in a police station on potential resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and possession of marijuana charges?”
Ms. Stewart? What the fuck was that? Shit. Gorgeous, powerful, attorney-at-law Camden Cole was also a bit of a cranky realist.
I licked my lips and looked at my shoes. “Uh, no.”
“Right,” he clipped.
My hands were freed, and my shoulders screamed as I stretched my arms out in front of me. And whether he was cranky or not, I moved to stand at my attorney’s side.
“What the fuck are you even doing here?” Jonathan asked his cousin. “Don’t you live in New York?”
Camden pulled a cell phone from his pocket and began stabbing his index finger at the screen. “Yes, but my client, who you have spent the majority of the day holding in unlawful restraints, depriving her of her physical rights and freedoms, lives here in Clovert. Rest assured, I am fully licensed to practice law in the state of Georgia, including, but not limited to, police misconduct cases.” He lifted the phone to his ear and slapped Jonathan across the face with a challenging glare.
Jonathan’s jaw locked up tight, ticking at the hinges. He took a long stride forward, getting all up in Camden’s space. I backed away, but more for distance than any fear of Jonathan. If my attorney was pissed about the grin, he was going be livid at the giggle I was fighting to suppress when Jonathan was forced to tip his head back to peer up at him.
“Are you threatening me?” he seethed.
Camden returned his glare, somehow managing to look more bored than pissed. “Just stating fac
ts, Officer Caskey.” He lifted a finger in the air. “Hello? Yes, your honor. He’s right here.” He tipped the phone toward Jonathan. “Judge Wallace would like to speak to you.”
Jonathan’s eyes flared and that was it; I lost the battle with my lungs.
A laugh slipped out and I slapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late to stop it.
Luckily, gorgeous, powerful, cranky Camden was too busy doing his badass attorney thing to scold me.
He looked to the other officer and stated dryly, “Bail has been set and posted. Please prepare my client for immediate release.”
For the next few minutes, Jonathan held the phone to his ear and said a whole lot of “Uh, huh” and “Yes, sir.” Meanwhile, Camden did a whole lot of standing with his hand in his pocket, looking like a GQ model. This meant I did a whole lot of staring and willing my nipples to stop tingling.
Eventually, Jonathan lowered the phone, slapped it into Camden’s hand, and then marched from the room.
Barney Fife stood there for a minute, nervously staring at a glowering Camden before finally thinking better of his life choices and racing out of the room.
Another laugh bubbled from my throat.
“Something funny?” Camden asked, turning his gaze on me in a way that both felt like a caress and a curse.
I hadn’t been with a man in five years, so it was safe to say it was the verbal caress portion of that question that stole my voice. I shook my head.
“Good. Let’s get you out of here, Cujo.”
Cujo?
Holy shit, had cranky Camden just made a joke?
I didn’t have time to ask for clarification before he swept an arm out for me to leave the room first. Ever the gentleman.
When we got to the front, Jonathan was swirling around behind the counter, slamming shit, and mumbling curses under his breath. It only took about ten minutes for him to practically hurl a stack of papers and a small plastic bag of the stuff I’d had in my pockets at Camden. “There. Now, get her the fuck out of my station.”
“And the rest of her belongings?” He looked at me. “I was told by a witness at the scene you took her purse from the vehicle.”
Joe. The only witness was Joe.
Jonathan grinned like a serpent in the garden of Eden. “You mean the evidence? Not happening. And go ahead. Call whatever the fuck judge you want, but you won’t be getting that purse back until after a trial.”
Camden held his icy stare. “Being the upstanding officer you are, I’m sure you’ll see to it that you stay away from my client until we can resolve this matter. Given your history with her family and all.”
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “And what about my history with your family, Camden? You forget about that?”
“Of course not. Why else would I be here?” He grinned, rapped his knuckles on the counter, and nodded. “Have a good evening, Officer Caskey.” With that, Camden turned, gently rested his hand on my back, and guided me out of the police station.
And because I was so mature, I didn’t even flip off Jonathan as we left.
Just kidding. I totally did that.
“Nora!” Joe called when we got outside. He jogged over and drew me into a tight hug.
“Ow,” I croaked.
“Easy, Joe,” Camden rumbled. “She’s spent all day in restraints.”
Joe immediately set me away. “Jesus, honey, are you okay?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet.” I glanced down at my wrinkled gray-and-pink-striped shirt I’d paired with black cropped skinny jeans and ballet flats that morning. “I need a shower, STAT.”
Joe shook his head. “Come on. Let’s get you home.” He extended a hand toward Camden. “I really appreciate you making the trip down.”
The two men shook hands.
“Anytime. I’m glad you called. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to take Nora home myself. We can meet back up first thing in the morning and discuss our next step.”
My stomach dipped. It had been five years since I’d seen him, and while I wasn’t positive gorgeous, powerful, cranky, attorney, Camden Cole was still the same kid who’d sat at the edge of the creek playing Slapjack with me or even the man who’d made love to me for hours on end, I was just excited to be able to see my friend again—mercurial as he currently seemed.
“Works for me,” I said. “I’m exhausted and would really like to be lucid for the castrate-Caskey plan.”
Joe chuckled. “All right. Take her home. You sure I can’t convince you to stay in my guest room tonight? Even braving Misty’s turkey bacon pie for breakfast has to be better than the Clovert Inn.”
I scoffed. “He’s not staying in that dump.”
Camden didn’t even look at me as he replied, “Thanks, Joe. But I’ve already booked the room.”
Curling my lip, I tilted my head back and semi-repeated, “You aren’t staying at the Clovert Inn. Cam, I have plenty of space at my place.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, but that was his only response. “Nice seeing you again, Joe.”
After a quick round of hugs and handshakes, we all climbed in our respective cars. Well, I climbed into Camden’s black SUV because my Honda was in impound.
“Nice car,” I said, desperately trying to make conversation that didn’t consist of a scold or stoic silence as I slid into the leather passenger seat.
He folded his tall body into the driver’s side and pressed a button on the dash to start the engine, muttering, “It’s a rental.” Stone faced and unreadable, he stared at the backup camera as he maneuvered out of the parking spot.
I waited until we were on the main road before giving it another try. “I really appreciate—”
“Shh!”
My head snapped back. “I’m sorry. Did you just shush me?”
“Shhhh!” he repeated louder as though I’d misheard him.
“Um—”
Literally, that was all I got out before another, “Shhhhh!” headed my way.
Slack-jawed, I turned in my seat and glared at him. My day had been next-level fucked up, and while watching Jonathan Caskey get put in his place had possibly been the high point of my entire year, this eerily quiet and frankly rude guy who had shown up in my best friend’s skin was seriously ruining it for me.
“Stop telling me to shh,” I snapped.
“Then shh!” he clipped right back. His eyes remained on the road as he turned into an empty parking lot a few blocks down from the police station. The glowing sign of the Burger Max illuminated the side of his face.
What the hell are we doing here? hung on the tip my tongue, but I wasn’t too eager to claw his eyes out if he shushed me again, so I gave him a second to dig deep and hopefully find a complete sentence.
“Four years of working my ass off to keep a four-point-oh in undergrad,” he stated at the windshield, his long fingers opening and closing around the steering wheel. “Three grueling attempts at the LSAT. Three years of law school, where I became a glorified zombie who never slept. An internship where my mentor was banging his secretary and handing off the majority of his caseload to me before I’d even graduated law school. Then, when I did graduate and had to dive straight into studying for the MPRE and then the Bar—twice. Once for New York and again for Georgia. But oh. My. Fucking. God. Nora, I would do that shit seven times over just to finally watch that piece of shit cower.” He pounded his hand on the steering wheel with a Grammy-worthy drumroll, and a loud laugh bubbled from his throat. “Fuck me, that was incredible!”
And there he was, my cute, sweet, and dorky Camden Cole, sitting in the driver’s seat, laughing like he was a kid again. Though he was still in that suit, so the gorgeous and powerful things stuck around too.
I gave his shoulder a shove. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought you’d gone to law school and received a diploma in being a dick.”
“It’s more like a license to be a dick, and I reserve that specifically for Caskeys and courtrooms. Though you should have seen your face when
I called you Ms. Stewart.” He grinned wide, toothy, and bright. “How the hell are you, stranger?”
I dove across the center console and pulled him into a hug. It hurt like hell, but he was too close to resist. When he wrapped me up tight, I melted into his strong, safe arms. “Well, today sucked, but suddenly, it’s a lot better.”
He released me, smiling and straightening his suit as he righted himself in his seat. “It seems you’ve picked up a Mary Jane habit since I last saw you.”
I shot him a glare. “It wasn’t mine. Your stupid cousin has it out for me. He started with Ramsey, but when they moved, Joe and I became his next targets. Do you have any idea how many times the city inspector has been to Joe’s barbershop over the last three months?”
His smile fell. “We’re going to figure it out.”
I wanted to argue, but I really didn’t have it in me. A shower, a change of clothes, and some catching up with Camden sounded far more appealing. “Why would you book a room at the Clovert Inn? You can always stay with me.”
“And miss the complimentary shampoo?”
“I hear the bedbugs are complimentary too.”
“You hear anything about frogs though?”
I barked a laugh and reached over to give his forearm a squeeze. “It’s really good to see you. And not just because you saved my ass back there.”
He rested his hand on top of mine and smiled, warm and content. “You too, Nora. You too.”
“Come on. Let’s go to my place and have a beer. I live off Springdale Road now.”
“Um, actually, I really do need to get settled in and get some rest. I have a call with the prosecutor's office in the morning. He was out with his wife tonight, but I’d like to get a feel for where his head’s at on all of this. Being a Saturday, I’m sure he’ll want to keep it brief though.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Why do you know the prosecutor in Clovert? And, for that matter, Judge Wallace too?”
He put the car into drive and got back on the road, answering, “Because I’ve made it my business to know them. It’s the same reason I’m a member of the Bar in Georgia. Eventually, Jonathan was going to pull something, and I wanted to be the one to handle it when he did. Sets me on fire that he’s decided to pull it on you, but I’m hoping to transfer that heat to him, and watching him burn might be more fun.”
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