“She’s possessive of him.” She chuckles. “Barks and shows teeth at anyone who comes close.”
It seems I understand the little beast all too well. Except I’ll do more than just bark at anyone who comes close to the woman I’ve decided belongs to me. I’ll bite. Viciously.
When the elevator doors open, Maeve leads me down the same hallway she did three days ago. She stops at her door and digs through her bag for her keys, and unlike the first day, her hands seem steady as she opens the door and lets us in.
The air smells like a mix of her perfume and something subtly sweet, maybe vanilla. The entryway is simple, a small console table with a few framed photos and a sleek lampshade. She slides off her bag and slings it onto the coatrack to the left so I follow suit. Maeve smiles and gestures for me to follow as she leads me past a small, open kitchen, a colorful fruit bowl seated on the gleaming granite counter. The living room is cozy and inviting; a plush oversized sofa is covered in soft, textured throw pillows and a chunky knit blanket.
I spot the large windows of the balcony doors that I’ve been watching her through for the last few days. On the balcony is a collection of plants arranged in neat rows, bathing in the soft sunlight.
“Can I offer you something to drink?”
“I’m good, thank you,” I say as I settle down on the couch.
She nods and then pulls her phone out of her bag. “I’ll order us some lunch to be delivered.” After a few quick taps, she sets the phone aside and lowers herself next to me, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. I don’t know much about the law, but there must be one against getting involved with your lawyer…or at least against stalking her like some creep. But Maeve just makes it so darn hard to be a law-abiding citizen.
In fact, she makes a lot of things hard.
“Look,” she starts as she grabs a notepad and pen from the coffee table before turning toward me. “I know this is going to be hard for you to do, but I need us to go back to the first case. If you believe they’re connected, then I need to know everything.”
“You’re not what I thought you would be,” I muse. I can tell I’ve surprised her with my words.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve spent six years of my life cursing cops and lawyers. Hating them for taking so much from me,” I say, watching the beautiful glint in her green eyes when they catch the light. The way her mouth moves in a slight pout. Christ, I could just kiss her. “When I was arrested this time around, I thought, hell, I’m about to deal with another pompous, careless lawyer with an inflated ego. But then I met you.”
She flushes, the flutter of her lashes telling me she loves hearing compliments about her work. She really cares about being a good lawyer. “Every lawyer needs a bit of ego and self-righteousness to survive in the courtroom.”
“And yet, I’d pick you any day.” I settle back before I can do something stupid like pull her onto my lap and kiss her breathless. Even I know that there’s a time for everything, and right now, I need to allow her to work. “What do you need to know? I’ll tell you anything.”
She nods and sits back, creating a bit of distance between us. “Start from the beginning.”
Chapter Five
Maeve
No woman ever wants to hear about the sex life of the man she’s attracted to, even if it happened ten years ago, so I push down Maeve the woman, and summon Ms. Halloway the attorney. The lawyer version of me can handle listening to the man talk about his attraction to someone else. She can bear the thought of another woman touching and feeling this man in ways she never has. In ways she might never experience.
“I met her at a bar in Logan Square,” he starts. “It happened by chance. I’d been honorably discharged a couple months prior and was trying to find a community. The Rebels were welcoming, and when they invited me out for drinks, I was more than happy to join them. The evening was coming to an end when a group of women approached our table, said they wanted to join a bunch of handsome men for drinks.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
He laughs. “I thought so too. I mean, what’s the harm in sharing a few drinks, right?” The amusement in his eyes dies and when he looks at me, I can tell he’s lost in his memories of that night ten years ago. “We had one too many drinks and I ended up sharing a hotel room with one of the women. She claimed tohave left a terrible marriage and wanted to have a fun night now that her divorce was finalized. Turns out she wasn’t lying, but she failed to mention that she had just divorced a vengeful cop.”
“Is he the same cop who was part of the team that arrested you?”
“Yeah, showed up at my place a couple of weeks later with a search warrant that claimed I was in possession of an unregistered gun. It was all fucking stupid. All my guns were well secured and registered, but they claimed to find a gun that wasn’t.”
“Claim? Do you think they planted it there?”
“I know they planted it there,” he says, his voice bitter. “I doubt someone broke in and hid it in my place, so my guess is one of the cops walked into my apartment with the gun and claimed to have found it.”
“Then they arrested you for possession of an unregistered firearm.”
“Yeah. Later, they tried to increase the charges because they ‘discovered’ that the gun had been used to commission a robbery,” he scoffs. “I was charged as an accessory to the crime, but since they couldn’t prove that I’d actually taken part in the robbery, I received ten years for the gun charge. I served six and was released to parole the last four.”
Trigger runs a hand through his hair, the first sign of distress I’ve seen from the moment I met the man. He drops his hand to his lap and I watch his fingers clench into a fist as he speaks, eyes hard and cold. “I was stripped of my Medal of Honor and all the other awards I earned in the Marines. My name was dragged through the fucking mud over some drunken night.”
“How do you think he found out?” I ask, moving my hand tentatively to his fisted one, the woman seeking to comfort theman even as the lawyer digs for the truth. “How did he know about you and his ex?”
