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She flattened her hand on my heart. “I’m sorry. I never want to hurt you.”
“You’re doing a pretty good job of it.” I looked away. I needed to suck it up, but this woman had me in knots.
I’d fought with Alma for years, yet JoJo was the one who had the capacity to hurt me.
“I’d love for you to be the lawyer for Earth Warriors.” She smirked. “We’d never lose.”
I pressed my lips together. She meant well, but it wasn’t helping.
“Nancy is right. You are the perfect person to teach Penelope. And it will give you a good reason to spend time together.”
I didn’t want to force it.
I wanted Penelope to want it.
She said she did, you bozo. And she didn’t have to think about it.
I felt marginally better. At least my daughter had confidence in me.
My person, on the other hand, didn’t so much.
“I’ve been the only one there to protect her for most of her life,” JoJo said hoarsely. “It’s hard to adjust to having a partner for that now. I’m getting it wrong a lot.”
I kept forgetting we were practical strangers because it didn’t feel that way. Somehow she knew me, and I knew her, yet we were having trouble trusting each other.
“I like what I do.”
She smoothed my tie. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so good at it.”
“I don’t want to change my path. And I don’t mean by taking on Earth Warriors’ caseload. I want to do that. But I won’t stop defending the people I do. Is that a problem?”
I wanted her to be proud of me. And it was going to bother me if she wasn’t. But I couldn’t force her.
It seemed like JoJo was fully behind me for a little bit. I was getting used to that. To having a real partner or at least building toward it.
“I like to see justice done.”
As much as I wanted her support, I admired that she wasn’t afraid to tell me what she felt.
“You prove these people are innocent, so there must be some shadow of doubt about their guilt.” She sighed. “I’ll try not to be so judgmental.”
That wasn’t a victory, but it was something.
“If it helps, I turn down a lot of cases.”
“I’m aware,” she said wryly before turning serious. “I’m excited Penelope wants to work with you. It’s better than those stuffy assholes.”
I laughed. “I thought I was a stuffy asshole?”
“No one could ever describe you as stuffy,” she said.
I pulled her against me. “I invited myself over.”
“This is your home. No invitation needed.”
That cold tomb of an apartment I’d lived in was nothing like this. It was lonely, a reminder of everything I hated about my life.
The invitation alone was enough. I could live without her fully supporting my career choice. She might come around anyway. But I wanted this—home—so much it hurt.
