“Hey Rhiannon!”
I turn slowly, catching the mischievous glint that’s burning in his bright green eyes now.
“Yeah?”
“You ever let anyone in the back door before?”
My jaw drops open in surprise but he’s just grinning. The lobby is full of people rushing about and it’s New York City. No one really cares about anyone but themselves and everyone seems too absorbed in their phones or personal conversations to notice what he just yelled.
Shout thatin Brookhaven and someone’s grandma will be telling you toshut the damn door before you start bedroom talk!
I roll my shoulders back and shake my head. “No. You would have been the first if you hadn’t forgotten the lube!” I shout back at him.
He throws his head back and barks out a laugh loudly. “It’s a shame. You’ve got the nicest ass I’ve ever seen. I’ll see you around.”
I laugh and wave. “Okay,Suit.”
Chapter 21 – Cain
To no one’s surprise, the moment that I step back into my law office after grabbing the paperwork from my apartment, I’m swarmed.
There are paralegals camped outside my door with red pens and questions. Interns pacing the hallway like they’re waiting for me to give them permission to breathe or go home. Partners wanting updates on cases that haven’t even hit my desk yet.
Everyone here is acting like they don't know how to function without me which is normally something I'd love to see but right now, all I want to do is sit in my chair, close the door, and replay every damn second of my time with Rhiannon.
It’s past infatuation now. Way past. It’s an obsession. A slow, consuming ache that’s settled under my skin like a disease and refuses to let go. There’s no medicine to cure it and no antidote to reverse it. I’m screwed unless I’m around her. My dick is stillhalf-way hard in my pants because nothing takes the edge off this desire I feel except being with her.
My thumb hovers over my phone, the half-written text to her best friend, Leo, taunting me. I’ve typed and deleted it at least a hundred times in the past hour.
Hey, man, I was wondering if—Delete.
Any chance you’d give me Rhiannon’s phone number?—Delete.
Can you tell me where you're going tonight?—Delete.
Every version sounds pathetic.
Because I’m a fucking fool for her now. And this isn’t about getting her out of my system. I don’t want her gone. I want herinit—rooted deep, tangled up in every part of my day.
I want to make plans with her, to have something scheduled on the calendar so that I stop searching for her in every crowd and looking for her each time I enter my penthouse. I want to be able to expect her because I know she's expecting me too.
“Son.”
The deep baritone voice that’s ruled my life for over thirty-five years cuts through my thoughts. My dad’s standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame reminding me that people may be depending on me, but my father's approval is what's most important if I want to take his company over some day.
There's no knock, no warning, because that’s not his style. He’s always enjoyed catching me off guard. Says it keeps me sharp.
I look up just as I hit send on the message to Leo, hoping I don’t regret it after this conversation.
“Hello, Dad. What’s up?”
He steps into my office, scanning the room like he’s checking for dust. He won’t find any. My admin keeps it pristine since it doubles as a meeting place for my most wealthy clients.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“No, I’ve been working.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t push. He just takes a seat across from me, steepling his hands like some kind of courtroom interrogator. “What happened with the Bryson case?”
