“We all make mistakes, Your Honor. Don’t let this one lapse in judgment mar Ms. Cole’s otherwise spotless record.” Lena had been just the right amount of sincere and effusive. It had worked. Judge Radner’s ire abated considerably, and he had handed down a much more lenient sentence.
Danielle was happy. I was happy. Lena was certainly happy. She glowed with pride, which seemed to wash away some of the weirdness between us.
“Nicely done, Ducate.”
Lena gripped her briefcase, a bounce in her step. “Thanks. I figured it didn’t hurt to jump in given how spectacularly you were sinking in there.”
I chuckled. “Fair point. Judge Radner isn’t a fan of Jenkins, Ducate, and Wyatt. I’m only surprised you and your brother haven’t been tarred with the same brush.”
Lena waved away my comment. “I was friends with Belinda Radner for years. I spent many nights over at their house. Adam was a punk. I was the sweet, guileless little sister of a punk. Dick Radner has always liked me.”
“Lucky for us, then. It seems we have a new secret weapon in our war against Radner the Ridiculous.”
Lena laughed and I felt my insides clench. God, she was lovely. And smart. And charming. And just about every goddamn thing I found completely irresistible.
We walked outside. It had started to rain so I opened my umbrella and held it over both of our heads. She had to press in close to avoid getting wet. It took everything in me not to wrap an arm around her and pull her to my chest. We headed in the direction of the parking lot, neither of us saying anything.
When we got to her car, she unlocked the door and opened it. “I guess I’ll see you back at the office.” She started to climb in, but I gently grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her. She looked back at me, not with surprise, but in slight resignation. As if she knew this had to happen at some point.
“Marlena, we need to talk about what happened last night,” I said without preamble. God, this was fucking awkward.
She bit down on her bottom lip. I wanted to suck it from her teeth. Damn it.
“It was a mistake,” she said quickly, looking anywhere but at me. The rain started coming down heavier, but I didn’t care. We had to talk this out away from the office.
Her quick admission that she regretted our romp in the sack was like a kick to the nuts. I had expected that reaction, but hell if it didn’t hurt.
Why though? Hadn’t I convinced myself it was just sex? That it could only be sex?
Anything else was akin to suicide, given Adam’s very clear feelings on the matter of me and his sister. I was taking my life in my hands by hoping like hell to do it all over again.
But here we were.
“Was it?” I asked, my hand still encircling her upper arm. I noticed she didn’t pull away, but her expression was incredulous.
“How can you ask that? I wasn’t the one getting texts from other booty calls this morning,” she spat out.
I raised an eyebrow. “So that’s the problem? You’re jealous.”
I might as well be poking a bear. She reared back as if ready to launch into a full-on attack. “Don’t delude yourself, Wyatt. Jealousy has nothing to do with it!”
“Then why are you so worried about other women texting me? If it was just sex, why should it matter?” I was baiting her. I knew it. On some level, she probably knew it too, but her anger was clearly getting the better of her.
And damn it was hot.
“It matters because it’s disrespectful!” she seethed. “Women are not commodities for your pleasure, Jeremy! You can’t sleep with someone and be so callous as to remind them that they’re simply one of many! It’s wrong!” Her chest heaved; her face flushed. She was quite literally on fire. This was the same passion I saw from her in the courtroom. When Lena Ducate felt something, she felt it deeply.
I held up my hands in surrender. “I wasn’t being disrespectful. It’s not as if I were texting someone while we were together. I can’t control who calls me. I had no intention of messaging either of them back—”
“Was it Sheila?” Lena demanded.
“Yes, it was.”
“And whose Greta?” Her mouth twisted into a sneer.
“Greta is an... old friend.”
“An old fuck buddy, you mean,” she muttered.
“So what if she is? As I asked before, why should it matter?” I pressed in close to her, so there was barely any room between us. She leaned back to look at me, her hair plastered to the side of her face from the rain.
“It doesn’t matter,” she exclaimed, her blue eyes flashing.
“Good,” I lied.
“All right, then,” she said. It was cold, I could see her starting to tremble. Though perhaps it wasn’t from the temperature.