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“Here.” He turned me in his lap and handed me the papers he’d been reviewing. “Read this.”
I could feel his erection pressed to my ass, and that was where my focus wanted to stay until a handful of the words registered.
“The custody forms?” I sucked in a breath.
“They’re done,” he confirmed.
After that night in the field, Zeke had been working on getting all the documentation in order, and yesterday, he’d opened a custody case with the court. As soon as we filed this paperwork, we’d get a hearing date, and the only thing left to do was serve Stan with the papers.
My eyes roamed over the paper, so eager to read everything all at once that I had to stop and take a deep breath and start over before my brain began to process everything.
Most of the information we’d already talked about. Why I wanted legal and physical custody. I argued that I’d been the primary caregiver for all of Jake’s life. That Stan’s job required him to be on long shifts or go on emergency calls at the drop of the hat. I argued that in spite of my past issues, I was the best guardian for our son. That spilled into my terms for Stan’s rights and visitation. And finally, there were the hard facts of my recovery, sobriety, and current living situation.
“Wait, what’s this?” I pointed to an astronomical amount listed as “our” assets.
That number had to be a typo. Either that or the zero button was pressed for a few too many seconds.
“What I have in savings and investments. Stocks. Crypto. Things like that,” he answered gruffly.
I assumed Zeke made good money—a stereotypical assumption about a lawyer. Maybe not as much as the big names in the city or in-house attorneys for giant corporations, but still a good income. When he’d mentioned building the house… adding the pool… part of me rationalized it was okay to say yes because our arrangement might end long before he was financially ready to do that.
But this… what he listed in assets… it was in the millions. Several times over.
“I didn’t… realize,” I said lamely. Not that it mattered. I mean, it did matter because it was a solid benefit to my claim, but the money itself didn’t matter to me.
We’d signed a prenup that Zeke had drawn up mere hours before going to the courthouse. It was simple but effective, and I would’ve signed anything to have a better shot at getting custody of Jake.
“It’ll all go to Blooms eventually, and to my nieces and nephews,” he murmured. “If you want to take another day to review it, I can file tomorrow—”
“No.” I shook my head. “I trust you. If it’s ready, then I’m ready.”
I didn’t miss his redirect of the conversation. Nor the passed-over truth that he was still prepared to give away everything he’d earned from all the time and effort he’d dedicated to others. This man… my husband… took nothing for himself.Except me.And that thought made me feel things I definitely shouldn’t.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and stood from his lap, folding my arms. “I’m sure.”
“Okay. I’ll file it online tonight, and then have Stan served with the paperwork tomorrow.”
Maybe then I could breathe a little deeper. Easier.
Zeke’s gaze raked over me. “Kenz…”
“If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to dinner,” I murmured breathlessly, toying with the idea of climbing back on top of him and spending another night pleasured over his desk.
But we couldn’t. We had dinner plans with a bunch of friends from town.
The last few weeks had been sprinkled with social gatherings with Zeke’s family and our friends. Dinners. Beach days. Hikes. Between our work-filled days, we had to make the marriage appear real, even if the most real thing was our desire to stay locked up in the apartment and spend those moments in bed.
“And if I’m hungry for something other than food?”
My nipples pebbled, my inhale trembling. “Then you’ll have to save that appetite for dessert.”
His jaw twitched. “I’m going to file this, and then I’ll be right up,” he said and added in warning, “Make sure you’re dressed by then, or I can’t make any promises that we make it to dinner.”
* * *
The Lookout wasCarmel Cove’s best-kept secret. A restaurant on the outskirts of town, it sat along the cliffs of Big Sur like a sanctuary for locals. It was a haven with good food, friendly faces, and an atmosphere of community that seemed to be a lost art in the world these days.
