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“Are you sure a public place is the best place for this meet and greet?”
“It works for Reese, so we’ll make it work, but I’m really not worried. An interesting thing about Delaney—she can tell you her story with dry eyes and somehow be composed, but you feel her spiraling inside. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. You’ll see. I want you to sit in on this.”
“Are you sure she wants me to sit in?”
“She’ll have the most powerful man in the legal world in front of her. Yes. She needs to feel that support. Unless you don’t want to join us?”
The Escalade pulls to the front door of Reese and Cat’s building and Grayson considers that idea a moment before he surprises me by saying, “No. This is your story, and hers, that your writing, Mia. Not mine.”
“My story is our story.”
“Of course it is and inside our story, we weave our individual successes, which we celebrate together. I need to run to the bank and take care of a few things. I’ll l leave you with the Walker team, and meet you back here at the building.” His hand slides under my hair and settles on my neck and he leans in close, his breath a warm fan on my cheek. “You’ve got this. And we’ve got each other.”
I know what he’s doing and I’m profoundly affected by where we’ve been and how far we have come together. He’s right. We are two pieces of one whole, held together by love, but we have to grow each piece for a lasting bond. Because we know this now, we are stronger than ever before. We will not make the same mistakes as before. We were almost perfect and from now on, we both know that we will always be almost perfect. We can’t let the word “perfect” allow us to take each other for granted.
He’s right. We’ve got each other. “Yes, we do,” I say, pressing my lips to his and we share a soft caress of tongues that I feel from head to toe.
Grayson growls soft and low. “Go before I don’t let you go.” He motions to Jacob.
Jacob exits the vehicle from the front and he’s quickly opening my door. I hesitate to exit with my attention on Grayson. “Don’t you need to speak to Reese?”
“See if we can give him a ride to the courthouse.”
I nod. “Will do. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it.” He winks. “You have the truth and a strategy.”
I smile, but as I exit to the street, it fades into a mix of the cool fall wind and my nerves over this meeting. Jacob and Blake are both waiting for me on the sidewalk. The two men have size in common, both tall and broad, but otherwise, they’re polar opposites. Jacob has a buzz cut, and he’s wearing a tan suit and tie and a perfectly pressed shirt, while Blake is in jeans and a T-shirt with his long dark hair tied at his nape. Blake’s a handsome man, but there are shadows under his eyes, and the lines on his face are more pronounced than usual. I’m reminded of last night and immediately say, “Thank you for all you’ve done. I know you’re tired.”
He arches a brow. “You mean I look like shit?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I just meant—”
“It’s okay. I’m not sensitive and shit. That’s Savage.” He eyes Jacob. “Right, Jacob?”
“Savage is many things I can’t quite name.”
I laugh, thankful for the distraction that’s taken the edge off my nerves. Blake points to the back door behind me. “I’ll trade spots with you,” he says. “I’m going to chat with Grayson.”
My brows dip and my heart lurches. “Is everything okay?” I suck in a breath and wait for the bombshell that has Blake here, chasing Grayson at seven in the morning, and clearly, one he’s going to reveal alone, with me out of the conversation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Mia
“Blake?” I press. “Is everything okay?”
“Relax,” he says. “Everything is flipping wonderful.” He grins. “See. I didn’t say fuck.” He grimaces. “Damn it. Don’t tell Kara.”
Now I laugh. “I promise. If you promise everything really is flipping wonderful.”
He grins again. “I promise. I’m just reassuring him about this deal being fucking wonderful.” He winks at me now, too—apparently, it’s that kind of morning—before he climbs inside the Escalade with Grayson and Smith.
Jacob shuts the door behind him. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to be,” I say, and together we head toward the building. “What’s your story?” I ask him, preferring to know something about the people who I’m trusting to save my life.
“Army,” he says, “which is a simplified way of defining my past, but I’m a simple guy.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” I reply.
His lips quirk, but he simply holds the building door for me. I enter with him on my heels and towering above me as we make our way toward the restaurant. We’re halfway there when Reese intercepts us. “Morning, Mia.” He stops in front of us, his blue suit fits to perfection, and his good looks, the reason some bloggers call him Mr. Hotness. Which I imagine he can’t like, considering his professional reputation. “Morning, Jacob,” he adds, before his attention shifts back to me. “I use Walker often for investigative and security work,” he explains. “Jacob has helped me out a number of times. And sorry, this has to be early and fast.”
