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I clear my throat. “She told me about that list and said it was something that helped her cope with her empathetic reaction to negative words, but she thought you didn’t know about it.”
“Of course I did. She’s shit at covering her tracks and even shittier at hiding stuff, which is why I was blindsided by her feelings for Nate.”
“She must’ve put extra effort into fooling you.”
“She wouldn’t have needed to if it weren’t for the daughter-stealer Nate.”
I roll my eyes and toss a grape into my mouth. “She would’ve gotten married eventually.”
“Eventually is not at twenty. I thought I had a few more years with her.”
“Nate was right. You and Gwen are codependent.”
“Nate is an asshole, so his opinion holds the importance of a used tissue. And it’s not codependence. My daughter and I are just close because we’ve been each other’s world for two decades…” he trails off when my shoulders drop. “Which is a time frame you’ll catch up to by being in her world for future decades.”
“Thank you.” I slide to the seat between us and place my hand over his. “And not only because you accepted me as her mother, but also because you told her about my past. She looks at me differently now, with more respect and…love. And I know you had something to do with her change of attitude.”
“If you really want to thank me, which I highly recommend, you could use a different currency than words.”
I hit his shoulder, smiling, and spring to my feet. “I’ll do the dishes. Go pick a show that isnotBreaking Bad.”
“That’s the only superior show TV has ever produced. And is that a no on the sucking my cock part?”
I lean closer until I breathe his air, and I brush my fingers over his chin, making his nostrils flare, then whisper, “It’s a maybe. Try again in fourteen days.”
“You little cock-fucking-tease,” he mutters when I escape behind the counter, and he motions at his tenting pants. “Look what you’ve done.”
“You’re always in that state.”
“Around you. So you should solve the problem you caused.”
“In fourteen days.”
“You better take sick leave in fourteen days, because you’re going to lose the ability to walk.” His voice darkens and I choose to stare at the wall to keep from getting caught in the otherworldly energy he creates by merely existing.
And he really needs to stop being attractive when he’s in casual slacks and a polo shirt. It doesn’t make sense for him to be a walking sex god no matter what he wears. Or maybe I’m more affected by the ban than I care to admit.
“By the way.” I occupy myself with cleaning the counter to not look at him. “Congrats on your case win today.”
We do that now—get involved in each other’s cases—and it’s brought more harmony than I ever thought possible. I like his advice, and he surprisingly appreciates mine, too, even though we’re in different fields.
Kingsley scoops a green apple from the counter and crunches on it. “It was a matter of time before I won. The prosecutor barely had any case.”
“Are you being modest? It was a difficult case that had everything stacked up against you. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” He leans against the counter, eating his apple, and tracking my movements as I tidy the counter.
“Win all the time.”
“Not all the time.”
“Ninety-six percent of the time.”
“My, sweetheart.” A shit-eating grin curves his lips. “Are you keeping track of my percentage? I didn’t know you cared about me this much.”
My face turns hotter than the room temperature. “I do not. I just know it because it’s one percent higher than mine. Which isn’t fair by the way. I’m more protocol-abiding than you and should have a higher winning rate.”
“And yet you don’t.”
