Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Chapter sixty-five
Lori
Monday morning doesn’t arrive to the sound of an alarm. It arrives to Cole wrapped around me, his hands all over my body, him pressing inside me. His demons are back, and while I won’t complain about waking up with this man inside me, I just want to get us past this day. He is dark and wild, and there is no conversation. Not even when we’ve both shuddered into release. Instead, he silently leads me into the bathroom, and we stand under the hot shower together, both of us lost in our thoughts. We really don’t have to voice those thoughts. He’s worried that Roger will be released. I guess I should be, too. The man attacked me and I’m not sure I’ve really even let that sink in which is a testament to how much I love this man. He’s what matters.
We soap each other up and I’m relieved when we end up laughing, his tension seeming to lift and fade, if only for a little while. And then for the first time as husband and wife, we get ready for work together. That is surreal, so very surreal. I walk into our closet, and pick out my clothes for today, with his clothes hanging opposite mine. Not that we haven’t lived together for months, but today we are married. It’s different. It’s forever. I pick out a pale pink suit dress, one of many outfits Cole basically bought for me—not basically, he had a personal shopper with really amazing taste do it because he knew I wouldn’t spend his money. Which is now our money, and I still can’t get used to that.
I’ve just stepped into my dress when Cole, already dressed in a gray pinstriped three-piece suit, joins me in the closet, and stops at the built-in set of wooden drawers in the center of the closet. “Today is a lucky tie day,” he says, opening his tie drawer. “And since I don’t have one, come pick one and we’ll make it lucky.”
I pull out the pink silk tie I bought him a few weeks ago when I’d promised to spend money and buy clothes.
“Do you really think pink makes the statement I want in court today?”
“It says you’re confident enough to wear pink and own it like the courtroom.” I glance up at him. “And me, so yes. I say wear the pink tie.”
He pulls me close. “You, huh?”
“My heart,” I say, with a message I’m trying to get across. “Actually, all of me. And that still scares me, Cole. Love means you can be hurt, but it’s worth the risk.”
His eyes soften, understanding in their depths. “It is worth the risk,” he says, kissing me. “And I will own the courtroom, just like you too own me, sweetheart.”
“I should have recorded that,” I tease, helping him with his tie.
We are laughing again as we exit the closet, and I add a pink lipstick to my lips to finish off my makeup while trying not to think about one little detail that could be big enough to become life-changing: I still haven’t started my period.
Fifteen minutes later, I attempt to get Cole to agree to let me go to court with him, but he fights back so fast and hard that I leave it alone. He, in turn, leaves for court with Smith of Walker Security by his side. Thanks to the picketers and press, I leave for work with Savage as my escort, which means I can’t go to the drugstore and buy a pregnancy test.
We arrive at the office building with another Walker employee at the wheel of the car, and to find picketers are indeed in place. “I pray an announcement about the FBI investigation is forthcoming, which should end this mess,” I say.
“It’s hard to say when that will happen,” Savage replies. “They may want to stay quiet while on the hunt.”
He’s right and that’s not a good thought, but I set it aside. It’s all working out, and right now, I just want in the building. Our driver makes that happen and easily. He maneuvers us to a back entrance where we exit the car and end up inside the safety of the building without mishap.
Once we’re in the elevator, Savage says, “Reporters make me want to breathe fire out of my ass, and wipe them all out.”
I laugh at the ridiculous statement, but that’s the thing about Savage. He’s just ridiculously Savage and it’s really quite charming. He knows how to take the edge off and when we exit the elevator I pause just outside to say, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Everything you’ve done on this case and for us.”
“No thanks needed. You two do good work. And if you need me, on or off the books, you both can call me. That’s called friends.”