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“That’s exactly what you should have done.”

“I know. But maybe I could have done more. I tried to talk her into rehab, but did I really try hard enough? Should I have been more proactive? I was just starting out at Knight & Payne, and I was so consumed with my new career that I just didn’t give her a lot of thought and effort.”

Reeve stays silent but his arm tightens around me.

“Eventually, Jenna left Damien’s father and she and Lauren started to get close again. They lived together, both of them continuing to dance. Jenna stayed clean, though, and Lauren, well, she continued to party. Jenna spent a lot of time cleaning up Lauren’s messes. Bailed her out of jail more than once. Got her to go to rehab once, but she relapsed a few weeks after she got out. Cleaned vomit off her after a hard night of partying.”

“Jenna’s quite a woman,” Reeve says.

“I feel an obligation to her,” I clarify. “She did things for Lauren, cared for her in ways that I never did. And in ways that my mom couldn’t. She tried hard to get Lauren straightened out, but it was all in vain. She loved Lauren like a sister. Was closer to her than I ever could have been. And I watch as Jenna struggles to take care of Damien, and it reminds me so much of my mom and her sacrifices. So, yes, that’s why this case is so important to me. Jenna deserves someone to take care of her now. It’s my way of maybe paying her back for being so selfless in caring for my own flesh and blood. She never gave up on Lauren, when I think maybe I did.”

Reeve’s shoulders heave with a huge sigh. He tilts his head and kisses me on top of my head. “I get it now.”

Pulling out of his embrace, I turn to face him and step forward, pushing my way in between his knees. My hands go to his broad shoulders, and his come to my waist. He tilts his face up to me, and the first thing I do is ply him with a chastely sweet kiss.

His lips are velvety soft, his breath warm against mine.

Leaning back, I say, “I will never have another case in my career as important as this one. I’ve put more effort into this case than any other, the stakes for me are higher than any other, and yet it’s all out of my control. I know that I could lose it all. I accept that. I can only do my best. And I know, without a doubt, that you will do a good job defending the case. I know it’s your job and that you’re doing it out of duty to your employer and to our legal code of ethics. I’m at peace with that. I just wanted you to know everything about me before we go further. I wanted you to understand why I flipped out on you before, but also to reiterate my promise to you again that I won’t take your involvement personally.”

I can’t gauge the look on Reeve’s face as he listens to me tell him this. His eyes are almost blank, his facial muscles lax. He just stares at me, and for the briefest of moments, I think I might see a tinge of regret.

Maybe regret over what I’ve been through?

Or perhaps it’s guilt.

Guilt for his role in opposing his lover on a case that’s embedded in her heart?

I’m not sure, but before I can explore it, Reeve pulls me closer and presses his face into the center of my chest. He huffs out a deep, hot breath that seeps through my clothing and warms my skin. His arms band around me tight. He wraps me into an all-consuming hug, turning his cheek to rest right over my heart. My hands slip into his hair, and I hold his head against me tighter.

We stay like that for several minutes. A comforting hug of understanding and appreciation. My conscience is now clear. I’m not holding anything back from Reeve.

I’m all-in with him, and once this case is over, there will be absolutely nothing standing in our way.

I slip out of Reeve’s embrace at first light and leave him peacefully sleeping in his bed. I’m the early riser, and since it’s Sunday, I feel the urge to make him breakfast.

This says a lot, since I’m not the best cook, but I can manage bacon and scrambled eggs.

I first make a pot of coffee, pour a cup, and grab my phone. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since taking Reeve to Lauren’s grave yesterday, and I haven’t had the opportunity to do it. Now that he’s asleep and I have a tiny bit of privacy, I turn my phone on and dial Jenna.

Because she’s an early riser like me, I have no qualms about calling at this hour. She answers in a cheery voice, “Hey, Leary. Please don’t tell me you’re already working on a Sunday morning.”

“No work today,” I assure her with a laugh. “I was just checking in to see how you’re doing.”

“You mean am I pissed about the mediation and that they didn’t offer anything?” she teases.

“Well, are you? Pissed?” I venture tentatively.

“No, babe. I told you I’m not expecting a damn thing from this case. Anything you can get for me is something I didn’t have yesterday. If you don’t get me anything, I’m the same as I am today.”

A gust of breath pops out of me as I sigh into the phone. “Why can’t I be as calm and centered as you are?”

“Trust me,” she says with a tinkling laugh. “Have a kid with autism. You learn how to be centered very quickly.”

I smile to myself, because Jenna has indeed mastered that.

“Actually,” I tell her as I take a seat at Reeve’s kitchen table, “I’m calling you about something else.”

“Shoot,” she says simply. “Damien’s watching TV, so I have a bit of quiet time.”

Toying with the handle on my coffee cup, I shoot a quick glance down the hallway that leads back to Reeve’s bedroom. His door is still shut tight, and I’m all alone.

“I went to visit Lauren yesterday,” I tell her softly by way of starting out not at the beginning but sort of near the end.

“Oh, you did?” she asks with a hint of disappointment. “I would have gone with you.”

“It was spur-of-the-moment,” I assure her, my mind drifting back to the memory of Reeve hugging me graveside. “Something I had to do.”

“Hey,” she asks softly, “are you okay? You sound a little funny.”

Clearing my throat, I assure her, “Yeah, I’m fine. Actually . . . really good, in fact.”

“Oh my God,” she gushes into the phone. “You met someone.”

I laugh, because ever since Lauren died, and especially since I started representing Jenna, we’ve become pretty close. She’s always lamenting that I don’t have a boyfriend.

“Yes,” I tell her softly, cutting my glance back down at Reeve’s bedroom door. I want nothing more than to just crawl back in bed, snuggle into his warmth. “I met someone.”

“Tell me everything,” she says in a whisper, I know, for Damien’s benefit. “And don’t hold back a single sexy detail.”

Giggling, I push my hair behind my ear and raise my feet to plant on the bottom of the kitchen chair. Wrapping one arm around my knees, I go ahead and come clean. “Jenna . . . the thing is . . . um . . . I’m actually kind of involved with Reeve Holloway.”

She’s silent . . . not even a tiny breath. Then she says, “Holy fucking shit.”

“I know this is unconventional—”

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” she repeats breathlessly. “That guy is H-O-T. I mean, really freakin’ hot. Jesus . . . how long has this been going on? Before my deposition?”