Chapter Thirty-One

Six weeks later

Cassandra entered the office and was surprised to see a young woman seated at the reception desk.

“Can I help you?”

“Um...” She stepped over. “I’m here to see Alex Breda?”

“Is Mr.Breda expecting you?”

“No.”

“And your name, please?”

“It’s Miller.” She cleared her throat. “Cassandra Miller.”

Alex’s office door opened, and a woman stepped out. She was strikingly beautiful and almost as tall as Alex. She hitched a Fendi purse onto her shoulder as she preceded him down the hallway.

“Thanks for your time,” she said, looking back at him. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Alex glanced at Cassandra as he ushered the woman to the door and opened it. “I’ll be in touch.”

After she was gone, he turned around.

“Hey there.” He looked Cassandra up and down, and she could tell by his expression he knew she was on her way somewhere.

“Sorry to just show up,” Cassandra said. “You have a minute? This shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure.” He darted a look at the receptionist, who was watching them curiously. “Hold my calls, Emma, would you?”

“No problem.”

He led her down the hall, and this time the floor wasn’t lined with moving boxes. There were pictures on the walls now, and Cassandra stopped beside the door, where the framed magazine article he had taken down was now prominently displayed: Breda Braxton Take On H-Town.

So his sister had won the argument.

“Come on in,” he said.

Cassandra lingered in front of the article for a moment. She’d read it online, hoping for a few more clues about her semi-famous attorney. But the write-up had offered little in the way of personal gossip.

“So, I’ve been wondering,” she said, stepping into the office and taking the empty visitor’s chair. His boxes had been unpacked, and now his credenza was loaded up with binders and law books.

“Yes?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“What made you leave Houston? From everything I’ve read, your practice there was thriving.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching her warily. Today he wore a light blue dress shirt that matched his eyes, and the sleeves were rolled up.

“It was,” he said.

“So? What happened? Falling out with your partner?”

He didn’t answer at first, and she prepared for a deflection. It was none of her business, really, but given what they’d been through over the past six weeks, she decided, why not just ask?

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Some partnerships are toxic.”

Aha. So, she’d guessed right.

“If you know what I mean.”

She sighed. “I do, yes.” She looked around his office. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. I don’t know where I would be without you. Actually, I do. I think I’d be dead.”

Alex frowned. But he didn’t argue, and they both knew it wasn’t an exaggeration.

She pulled an envelope from her purse and set it on the desk.

“That’s for you.”

He looked at it but didn’t touch it.

“I have to say, I feel a bit like a mobster showing up here with a thick stack of cash.”

He smiled. “I take all forms of payment.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” He took the envelope and slid it into his top desk drawer. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“So, am I guessing right that you’re leaving town?” Alex asked.

“I am, yes.” She sighed. “At least for a while. I wanted to get you paid before I go so you wouldn’t think I was trying to skip out or anything.”

He smiled.

“I’m glad you came by. I’ve got an update from the prosecutor’s office.”

Cassandra tensed. Anything to do with Malcom still made her queasy. He was under house arrest awaiting trial, but she still found herself looking over her shoulder all the time. Every now and then she even caught a whiff of his cologne. PTSD, her therapist had told her. But Cassandra couldn’t stamp out the fear. She’d discounted her instincts before and she’d been wrong.

She cleared her throat. “What’s the update?”

“Well, you heard about how John Krueger was arrested in Brownsville.”

She nodded.

Malcom’s hired gun had been apprehended trying to sneak across the border in the back of an eighteen-wheeler.

“He’s cooperating now,” Alex said.

“Cooperating?”

“Not surprising, really, since his DNA was recovered from the crime scene. They have quite a bit of leverage over him.”

“So, cooperating as in...?” She gripped her purse strap, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

“He’s implicating Malcom in the murder-for-hire scheme. Which—as you know—is a capital offense here.”

Cassandra sat back in her chair. A capital offense.

Alex had explained all this weeks ago, but it hadn’t seemed real then. She’d been too traumatized to wrap her mind around it.

“And I hear the feds are talking to him about McVoy Systems, too,” Alex said. “I don’t know the nature of their conversations, but it can’t be good for Malcom.”

She nodded.

“All this is good for you, though.” He watched her with that eagle-eyed gaze, and she knew there was a subtext here. All this was good for her provided that she’d told Alex the truth when she’d said she was never involved in her husband’s business dealings.

Good thing for her, she had been telling the truth. Her knowledge only extended to a few overheard phone calls to China in the middle of the night. In the days after her abduction, federal agents had debriefed her about those conversations at length. On Alex’s advice, she’d revealed to them every detail. From what she had gathered, Malcom had been selling drone technology to U.S. adversaries while simultaneously fulfilling contracts for the Defense Department.

Alex was watching her reaction closely.

“That’s good news,” she said.

“Is it? You look a little dazed.”

“I am.” She bit her lip. “He’s a monster, yes. And he tried to kill me. But...” She looked down at her lap. “I don’t know. It’s weird. It’s strange to think of him on death row.” Not so long ago, she’d loved him enough to marry him. She never would have imagined “till death do us part” could turn out this way.

She looked at Alex, and the empathy in his eyes was yet another reminder of why she felt sure that it didn’t matter where he practiced law. This man could hang up a shingle on a deserted island and probably make a go of it.

“That brings me to the other update,” Alex said. “I’m expecting your divorce to be finalized pretty soon. We’ve got a hearing scheduled—” He turned to his computer and tapped the mouse, opening his email. “Looks like... April twenty-fifth. That’s a Tuesday.” He looked at her. “Can you make it?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

She smiled. That was her cue to leave. Besides being smart, and handsome, and a bulldog on her behalf with prosecutors, her lawyer also happened to be extremely charming.

And another charming man was the last thing Cassandra needed at this moment in her life.

“Well, thank you.” She smiled and stood up. “I mean it.”

“Of course.” Alex stood, too. “So, what’s next for you?”

“A road trip.”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to visit my brother in Arizona. Then some traveling. Maybe see the desert, visit a few national parks.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I think I need some time away from people for a while.”

He walked around his desk and opened the door for her. “Be careful, Cassandra.”

“I will.”

“Really.”

“I know. Really.” She turned to look at him, touched by his concern.

“And if you get in any trouble, give me a call.” He held his hand out to her, and she shook it.

“You know I will.”

Nicole elbowed her way through the crowd. Between the tourist season ramping up and a Sunday-night basketball game, Finn’s was packed. She spied Kyle and Calvin at the pool table in back.

But no Emmet.

Her stomach tightened with disappointment. She hadn’t heard from him since this afternoon when they’d traded text messages. He’d told her he had some stuff to take care of this evening, but he’d try to call later. She’d thought he meant family stuff, because he’d been vague about it, but now Calvin was here, so she didn’t know what to think.

“Nik.”

She turned around, and Kate was waving at her from a booth across the bar. Nicole walked over and slid into the seat beside Siena.

“We ordered you a margarita,” Kate said.

“Thanks.”

Nicole didn’t really want a margarita. But she also didn’t want to raise a bunch of questions with Kate.

“Where’s Emmet?” Siena asked.

“Working, I think,” Nicole said.

Kate frowned. “You think?”

Nicole grabbed the plastic menu from the end of the table. “Yeah, today was crazy busy. I haven’t really talked to him.”

She skimmed the menu, and when she glanced up, Kate and Siena were eyeing her with concern.

“Everything okay?” Kate asked.

“Sure. Why?”

The server walked over, saving Nicole from more questions.

“I’ll have your wings, please,” she told her.

“Make that two orders,” Kate said.

The server jotted it down and walked away.

“Mind if I scoot out to go to the restroom?” Siena said. “No fair gossiping without me.”

When she was gone, Kate turned to Nicole. “Okay, what’s the deal?”

“What deal?”

“You’ve been dodging my calls all week, and now you’re upset. What’s up with Emmet?”

“I told you. He’s working.”

Kate just stared at her.

And this was why Nicole had been reluctant to come out tonight. It was impossible to be around her sister and fake it.

“He’s, I don’t know, acting weird lately,” Nicole said.

Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Weird how?”

“Just... evasive, I guess, whenever we’re together.”

“Evasive. You mean like avoiding sex?”

“No, we’re having sex all the time.”

Kate’s eyebrows tipped up. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. It’s good. Just... that’s all we do. He comes over or I go to his place, we have sex, then he’s crashed out until morning. And then at work, he’s either avoiding me or he’s off doing something else and we’re completely apart.”

“Well... isn’t that better?” Kate asked. “You said you can’t work with him anymore without it being weird and awkward, so—”

“No, I can’t. I just—” She shook her head, frustrated. “We’re apart at work, and then when we’re not at work, it’s like he won’t communicate with me except physically. And I know something’s going on.”

Kate just stared at her. “Something... such as a person, you mean?”

The words were like a dart to her chest.

But Emmet wouldn’t do that to her. He was faithful. In her heart, she knew that. But she also knew that he was avoiding conversations with her for some reason, and she felt certain something was wrong.

“Not a person,” Nicole said. “But there’s something off, I can tell.”

Kate gave her a sympathetic look. “You should talk to him.”

“I know.”

“Or maybe ask Calvin.”

Nicole looked at Emmet’s brother across the bar. “No. This is between us.” Part of her felt guilty even discussing it with Kate. The only person she really wanted to talk to about this was Emmet.

“Well, are you seeing him tonight?” Kate asked.

“Probably.”

Nicole was embarrassed to say she didn’t really know. This afternoon—like yesterday afternoon—Emmet had been mysteriously absent from work. She’d asked him about it, and all he’d said was that he was following up on something for Brady.

The server returned with a tray of drinks and set them on the table.

Nicole slid her margarita in front of her and poked at it with the straw.

“Sit him down right when you see him,” Kate said. “Don’t let him distract you.”

“Ha. Easier said than done.”

“Okay, now you’re just gloating.” Kate sipped her drink. “And you know I’ve been in a dry spell.”

“I’m not gloating. It’s just a fact,” Nicole said. “It’s how we connect.”

And even knowing they should be talking more, whenever Nicole got around him, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, whether they were making dinner, or showering, or watching TV. She had expected things to taper off, but they hadn’t at all, and Nicole getting rid of her ankle boot last week had only added gasoline to the fire.

Kate sighed, probably reading Nicole’s thoughts.

“You are gloating, but I’m happy for you,” Kate said. “At least one of us is having sex on a regular basis.”

Siena returned and slid into the booth. “Okay, I heard the word ‘sex.’ What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Nicole said. “We were just talking about Kate.”

Siena looked at her. “What? With who?”

“No one.” Kate rolled her eyes. “That’s the point.”

Emmet awoke to the sound of clanging pans. He glanced at the clock, then grabbed his boxer briefs off the floor and walked into the kitchen, where he found Nicole at the stove making a grilled cheese. She wore his faded ACL Fest T-shirt that hit her midthigh.

She glanced up. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah.” He eased up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. She smelled like sex, and he nuzzled the back of her neck.

“I woke up starving and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I decided to make a snack,” she said.

“I had cheese for that?”

“Provolone.” She flipped the sandwich, and the toasted side was perfectly golden brown. “American melts better but this is good, too.”

His stomach started to rumble. “You mind sharing?”

“Not at all.”

He got a couple glasses from the cabinet and filled them with water as she slid the sandwich onto a plate and cut it in half. Her hair was loose and messy around her shoulders, and the sight of her moving around his kitchen put a pang in his chest.

She glanced up. “What?”

He walked over and kissed her nose. “Nothing.”

“Really, what? You’re giving me a look.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Right.”

“You are.”

She held out half of the sandwich. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thanks.”

She set the plate beside her water glass, then hitched herself onto the counter.

Emmet took a big bite. The cheese was gooey and warm. “Damn, that’s good. Salty.”

“It’s the butter. I used a ton.”

He took a long sip of water, watching her over the rim as she ate. He liked that she felt comfortable enough in his home to get up and make a snack in the middle of the night. He wished she would settle in even more and leave some stuff here. Half his clothes were at her apartment, but she hadn’t left anything at his place besides a toothbrush.

He set his cup down and walked over, placing his palms on the counter on either side of her. She immediately tensed.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “You’re off this Sunday, right?”

“Yes,” she said warily.

“I am, too.” He brushed a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Why don’t we spend the day together?”

She looked surprised. “I’d love to,” she said, setting her sandwich aside. “But I’m supposed to go to Port A to visit my grandmother.”

“Can I come?”

Her eyebrows arched. “To visit my grandmother?”

“Yeah, I’d like to meet her. Is this the one with all the cats?”

“That’s Grandma Doris. This is Helen. She’s in a nursing home.” Nicole paused. “You really want to come with me?”

“Sure, why not?”

“There’s not much to do there but bring her lunch and play dominoes.”

He smiled. “I love dominoes.”

“You love dominoes?”

“My granddad taught me when I was a kid. I’m really good.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“Seriously, I’ll kick your butt.”

“Well. That’s unlikely.” She grinned. “But it would be fun to see you try. All right, if you really want to come with me—”

“I want to.”

“—I was planning to head up there Sunday morning around eight. That work?”

“Sure. Then in the afternoon, we could swing by my parents’ if you’re up for it. I want to go by to look at my dad’s boat.” He watched her reaction. “I’m thinking of buying it.”

Her face brightened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s looking to get rid of it. It’s really old, but the engine’s still decent, and it’s got some years left.”

“Sounds fun. I love boats.”

“I know that.”

She smiled slightly and eyed him over her sandwich. Her interest in boats was one of the main reasons he wanted to buy his dad’s. Nicole loved being on the water, and he figured it was something they could do together when they had time off work but not enough time to leave town. Their hectic schedules weren’t likely to let up anytime soon. If anything, they were about to get worse.

“And I’d like for us to hang out.” Her expression turned serious. “I’ve missed you these last few weeks. Your schedule’s been crazy.”

“Yeah, I know.” He put their empty plate in the sink, and when he turned back, she was watching him with those bottomless brown eyes that saw everything.

“There’s that look again. I can tell something’s bothering you,” she said.

And she was right. Something was bothering him. For weeks, he’d been battling this relentless anxiety that wouldn’t go away. But he couldn’t talk about it. How could he explain the hot, suffocating feeling he got every time he knew she was heading into some semi-dangerous situation? It was a constant struggle for him to treat her like everyone else. She was always front of mind, especially if she was in any sort of danger. It was distracting as hell.

She had predicted that this thing between them would lead to problems at work, and she’d been right. The whole situation was becoming untenable. He was trying to make some changes, and when he had a solution in place, he’d tell her everything. But not yet.

“Everything’s fine.” He kissed her. “So, it’s a date Sunday? We’ll spend the day together?”

“It’s a date.”

He moved from her mouth to her neck to the sensitive place below her ear. Her skin smelled so good, and he could never get enough of it.

“I know what you’re doing,” she said, tipping her head back. “You’re changing the subject.”

“You don’t like this subject?” He kissed her throat.

“You know I do.”

His pulse gave a kick, and he slid his arms around her, pulling her to the edge of the counter. He kissed her and felt her loosening up, getting into it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he moved her flush against him. He loved her skin, her taste. He loved everything about her. He slid his T-shirt up and settled his mouth on her breast, and she arched against him and made that low moan that had become his favorite sound.

“Nik?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go back to bed.”