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Jimmy’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t argue. “I saw the way you dealt with an armed man by yourself. I have no doubt I wouldn’t have stood a chance in a fair fight.”
Grady nods, walking out the door as Jimmy closes it behind him. Sighing, I dig my phone out of my purse, sinking on the sectional as I pull up Henry’s number.
Before I can dial it, Jimmy drops onto the couch beside me, his hands lifting my feet into his lap as he pulls off my shoes, his fingers kneading my arches. Oh god, that feels amazing.
“Who are you calling?”
“Work. I need to tell them I’m ready to come back tomorrow.” I bite back a moan, my eyes fluttering closed as Jimmy continues to rub my feet.
“You can’t take one more day off?”
“They need me.”
He chuckles, the room descending into silence as he massages, and I enjoy it. Shit. I do need to call work.
“Then I need to call my parents, Holly, Artie, the boys, and pretty much everyone.”
“You go right ahead. I’ll be here.”
Oh god. He’s not going to stop rubbing my feet. I’m okay with that. I only hope I don’t make any weird noises on the phone. That would be so inappropriate.
“Are you going to come back to my boxing lessons?” Jimmy asks quietly. My eyes fly open to meet his gaze. I think of my single, aborted yoga session. It wasn’t as relaxing as my sessions with Jimmy.
“Yes, please.”
He grins, his face lighting up as he turns his attention back to my feet. I close my eyes, my head tipping back again. Maybe my phone calls can wait ten minutes.
Chapter 19
JIMMY
I’m in the boxing studio before Thelma for the first time. I check the bag is ready and line her gloves up, looking over my shoulder as the door swings open.
I’ve been staying at her condo every night, so I saw her less than ten hours ago, but my heart still swells at the sight of her. She’s back in tight workout clothes, showcasing her body in all its glory.
As she stretches, I drop onto the mat beside her, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
“Did Henry talk to you about the Hale case?”
Thelma sighs, tipping her head to the side and leaning forward to rest her forearms on her shins.
“Yeah. I know I did everything I could. The case against her was watertight. The police had a confession. They had the weapon she used. They had eyewitnesses. We got the best plea bargain we could for her, but there wasn’t much else I could have done.”
At least she seems to be carrying less responsibility about it now. I was starting to worry about her.
“Henry wants me to see a therapist. The defender’s office has one they recommend.”
“What about?”
“About my sense of guilt over things I can’t control.”
“Do you want to talk to someone?”
Thelma shrugs, tipping her head to the side. “I think I do. I don’t think it’s healthy to feel responsible for unwinnable cases or for everyone who crosses my desk.”
I offer her a smile, reaching over and tucking an escaped strand of hair back into her braid.
“I can think of something else that might help take your mind off work and stress.” My voice is low and needy. Thelma’s pupils dilate, and her lips part as she watches me.
