“Yes.” He picked her up, and she clamped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
KIRA HUNG the picture on the hook and stepped back to check it. It was crooked, and she reached over to nudge up the corner. Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back. Ollie had loved this newspaper clipping, and his daughter had offered it to Kira when she went over to the office to help sort through the mess. Kira had replaced the broken glass and reframed the clip, grateful to have a reminder of Ollie in her new space.
“You’re an Astros fan?”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Brock standing in the doorway.
“It was Ollie’s.”
“Nice.” He stepped into the room filled with half-unpacked boxes. “You’re making progress,” he said, glancing around.
“Yep.”
“Sorry you don’t have a window.”
“I don’t mind.”
Kira couldn’t care less about a window. She could hardly believe she had an actual office, with four walls, at Logan & Locke.
Brock had offered to bring her in-house for a hefty salary, and she’d jumped at the chance. At least for a while. She’d see how things went, and she could always go it alone if it didn’t work out. The new arrangement meant giving up her space at WorkWell and her other clients, but she didn’t mind. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to wonder where the next gig was coming from.
Brock reached over a cardboard box and handed her a stack of papers.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Some background on my case for next week. I’d like your help with voir dire.”
She felt a flutter of excitement. More jury consulting. “Sounds good.”
“We start at eight thirty Monday. Bev will get you the details, but I wanted you to have something to read over the weekend.”
“Got it.”
She put the papers on her desk and looked at Brock. He had started to say something else when her desk phone rang, and Kira reached for it, glad for the distraction. The last time Brock had stopped by her office at five o’clock, he’d asked her out for a drink, and she’d politely declined. She needed to establish boundaries with him if she wanted this new job to work.
The call was from Sydney at the reception desk.
“Yes?” Kira said.
“You’ve got a delivery here.”
Brock gave her a nod and stepped out.
“I’m heading out for the day, so I’ll leave it on my desk,” Sydney added.
“Thanks. See you on Monday.”
Kira hung up and looked around her office. Her office. It was small and crowded and, yes, windowless. But it was hers, and she felt a swell of pride every time she stepped into it. She had several more boxes to unpack and organize, and she still had to set up her computer, but she could do all that later. She’d made enough headway for one day.
Kira slid Brock’s papers into her messenger bag, excited by the prospect of more jury consulting work, as well as the chance to prove herself to Brock and his partners. And she was glad to have something to do this weekend that would take her mind off Jeremy, who had barely talked to her in three days. Their last phone call had been rushed and distracted, and he’d caught her at four in the morning because of the time difference.
He’d said he missed her. But as soon as they hung up, Kira was flooded with doubts. She hated phone calls. She wanted to see his body language. She wanted to read his eyes and know what he really felt when he said the words.
Lately, she’d found herself doing silly, pointless things. Like checking the weather in Thailand. And sleeping in the flannel shirt she’d borrowed. And stopping in the middle of her workday to wonder whether he missed her even a fraction as much as she missed him. She yearned for him so much it was a physical ache in her chest—one that subsided when she was busy but never truly went away.
Kira grabbed her bike helmet and clipped it to her messenger bag. She cast a last look at Ollie’s news clipping on the wall before switching off the light and heading out. She wended her way through the labyrinth of cubicles and saw that some of the lawyers were still around, but most of the support staff had left for the day.
Kira stepped into the reception room, where Sydney was clearing off her desk and gathering up her purse.
“Special delivery,” Sydney said with a grin. She nodded at the window.
Jeremy stood there, watching her.
Kira’s heart skittered.
“You’re back,” she said, crossing the room.
He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead.
“I thought you got in Monday?”
“I grabbed an early flight.” He smiled down at her, and she felt a flood of nerves.
“Good night, you guys.”
“Night.” Jeremy nodded at Sydney, then looked at Kira.
She gazed up at him, speechless. He wore jeans and his scarred leather jacket, and he was tall and solid and wonderful. His face was tan, and she thought of all the hours he’d spent on a beach surrounded by gorgeous women while she’d been missing him like crazy.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He took her hand, and they walked toward the elevators.
“This way,” she said, tugging him to the service elevator, where they’d have a better chance of being alone.
Sure enough, the car arrived empty. They stepped onto it, and Jeremy must have read her thoughts, because he pressed the button and kissed her as the doors closed. He tasted so good, and he kissed her with the same pent-up desire she’d been feeling for weeks.
Finally, he pulled away, and the heated look in his eyes made her nerves flutter.
He tapped the lobby button, and the car whisked down.
“I take it your car’s in the shop?” He nodded at her helmet.
“Actually, it’s gone.” She sighed. “Finally gave up the ghost last week. I’m headed to CarMax this weekend.”
The doors dinged open, and they stepped out. The ground level was bustling with people heading home for the night, and Kira couldn’t believe that less than a month ago, Gavin Quinn had been shot and nearly killed in this same lobby.
“Where to?” Jeremy asked.
“I’m right out front.”
He put his hand on the small of her back, and Kira felt another flurry of nerves as they walked to the doors and stepped outside. The summer heat had finally broken, and a gentle September breeze wafted over them.
She glanced up at him as they walked toward the bike rack.
“When did you arrive?”
“This afternoon,” he said. “Hong Kong to LAX to Houston.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” She shook her head as they stopped beside the row of bikes.
“I said I’d come.”
“I know.”
He was a man of few words. But the words he said he meant. She looked up at him, and his blue eyes were filled with such sincerity it made her heart hurt. And she knew that she loved him. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. She wanted to tell him, but she decided to save it for a time when they weren’t surrounded by people and noise and car exhaust.
He bent his head down and kissed her again, and it was even hotter than before in the elevator. She slid her hands around his neck and pressed her body against his, loving the solid feel of him. She’d missed him desperately, and she hadn’t even realized how much until this moment.
He eased back, looking as dazed as she felt.
“Will you stay the weekend?”