Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Jordan
“In the matter of Morrison versus Morrison, custody is awarded to the petitioner, Jennifer Morrison, with supervised visitation granted to the respondent.”
This should be my moment. An eight-year-old girl gets to stay with the parent who puts her needs first. But as Jennifer Morrison collapses into grateful tears beside me, whispering “thank you” over and over while her daughter finally gets the security she deserves, all I can think about is sharing this victory with the man who helped me find the balance to achieve it.
The opposing counsel packs up his files with practiced stoicism, but I catch a flicker of resignation in his eyes.
He knows his client didn’t deserve custody, yet he fought hard anyway—because that’s what skilled attorneys do.
We shake hands with the mutual respect of warriors who’ve battled well, and then it’s over.
The courtroom empties around me. Jennifer goes home to her daughter, knowing she can keep her safe. And for the first time in my career, my first instinct isn’t to immediately return to the office or start planning my next case strategy.
My first instinct is to call Forge.
I pull out my phone while still standing at the plaintiff’s table, not even bothering to pack up my files yet. My phone unlocks and his name is the first thing I see—exactly where it belongs. Two months ago, I wouldn’t have believed how natural that would feel.
“Hey, beautiful,” he answers on the second ring, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “How did it go?”
“We won,” I say, and suddenly the victory feels real. “Jennifer gets full custody. Allison gets to stay with the parent who actually loves her.”
“That’s incredible, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”
The warmth in his voice, the genuine pride and happiness he feels for my success, make my chest tight with emotion. Through our new soulbond, I can feel his happiness for me like it’s my own—amplified and reflected back.
“I keep thinking about something you said,” I tell him, gathering my files with one hand while keeping the phone pressed to my ear. “About how your job has clear objectives. Someone’s in danger, you help them. I think I finally understand what you meant.”
“How so?”
“Today this wasn’t about winning or losing or proving I’m the best lawyer in the room.
This was about making sure a little girl gets to sleep safely in her own bed tonight.
” I pause, surprised by the realization.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever won a case and felt like I actually accomplished something that mattered. ”
“Because you’re not just fighting for victory anymore,” he says softly. “You’re fighting for people.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“When I fell in love with a brilliant lawyer who forgot she was allowed to care about more than just being perfect.”
I’m about to respond when I notice someone approaching in my peripheral vision. I look up to see Forge walking through the courtroom doors, still in his work clothes but carrying a small bouquet of sunflowers—my favorite, which he somehow remembered from a casual comment I made weeks ago.
“How did you—” I start to ask, then notice he’s still holding his phone to his ear.
“Surprise,” he says, both through the phone and in person, his smile brilliant as he approaches my table.
I hang up and meet him halfway, not caring that we’re in a very public, very professional space. When he sweeps me into his arms and spins me around, I laugh out loud—something I’ve never done in a courthouse before.
“You came,” I breathe against his neck as he sets me down.
“Of course I came. This is huge, Jordan. You’ve been working on this case since before we met.
I wasn’t going to let you celebrate alone.
” He hands me the sunflowers, and they’re perfect—bright and cheerful and completely unpretentious.
“Besides, someone needs to make sure you actually take time to enjoy this victory instead of immediately diving into your next case.”
The fact that he knows me so well, that he anticipated exactly what I would have done before our relationship, makes my heart race. “How did you even know when the hearing would end?”
“I called Riley and asked her to text me when you were likely to be finished. Then I may have been circling the block for the past twenty minutes.”
“You’ve been driving around downtown L.A. for twenty minutes just to surprise me?”
“Sweetheart, I’d drive around downtown L.A. for twenty hours if it meant seeing you smile like that.”
“What would you have done with the flowers if I’d lost?”
“I would have wished I’d bought more, so they would cheer you up. But I didn’t buy more because I knew you’d win.”
I stand on my toes and kiss him, not caring about the few remaining people in the courtroom or the fact that I’m supposed to maintain professional decorum in this building.
When we come up for air, his eyes are dark with the same desire that’s been simmering between us since our soulbonding Friday night.
“Dinner?” he suggests, his voice rougher than it was a moment ago. “We should celebrate properly.”
“I’d love that. But first, I touch my chest, feeling the bond pulse warm and steady beneath my palm—a constant reminder of how completely we belong to each other now.
His eyes track the movement, and I catch the flash of possessive satisfaction that crosses his face. “Feeling the bond?”
“All the time,” I admit quietly, then glance around to make sure we’re not being overheard. “I can feel you, Forge. Your emotions, your… satisfaction.”
“And?”
“And it’s incredibly distracting when I’m trying to argue a custody case and all I can think about is how proud you are that everyone in the courthouse can probably smell your claim on me.”
His grin is absolutely wicked. “Can they?”
“I don’t know, but Riley took one look at me this morning and asked if I’d been ‘thoroughly ravished by my orc.’ Her words, not mine.”
“Smart woman. What did you tell her?”
“I told her to mind her own business, but I’m pretty sure my face gave me away.” I gather the last of my files and slide them into my briefcase. “She’s threatening to throw me a ‘congratulations on being soulbonded’ party.”
“Would that be so terrible?”
I consider this as we walk toward the exit together.
Before I met this wonderful orc, the idea of my personal life being the subject of office gossip would have horrified me.
Now, with Forge’s hand warm and possessive on the small of my back and the bond humming quietly beneath my skin, I find I don’t care what people think.
“No,” I realize aloud. “It wouldn’t be terrible at all. I think I’d actually like people to know.”
“Even the partners?”
“Especially the partners. I want them to know I’m not the same woman who used to live at the office.” We push through the heavy glass doors and step into the late afternoon sunshine. “I want them to know I have something in my life more important than billable hours now.”
Forge stops walking and turns to face me, his expression serious. “Are you sure about that? Your career is important, Jordan. I never want you to feel like you have to choose.”
“I’m not choosing,” my voice is firm. “I’m integrating. There’s a difference.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Choosing would be giving up my ambitions to focus on our relationship, or giving up our relationship to focus on my ambitions. Integrating is building a life where both can coexist.” I step closer, tilting my head back to meet his eyes.
“Integrating is winning the biggest case of my career and knowing that celebrating with you matters more than immediately strategizing about my next promotion.”
“And how does that feel?”
“Terrifying,” I admit with a laugh. “And absolutely perfect.”
He kisses me again, softer this time, and I can feel his love and pride through our bond like a warm current running between us.
“So,” he says when we break apart, “dinner. Somewhere fancy to celebrate your victory, or somewhere comfortable where we can really talk?”
“Somewhere comfortable. I want to hear about your day, and I want to tell you about the look on that terrible father’s face when he realized he’d lost.” I pause, then add with a grin, “And I want to plan what we’re bringing to Thanksgiving dinner at the firehouse.”
He chuckles, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Already volunteering us for kitchen duty?”
“Of course. I’m not showing up to meet your firehouse family empty-handed. What’s everyone’s favorite dessert?”
His smile widens, equal parts amusement and pride. “Anything sweet—and plenty of it. Kam will eat half before we even sit down.”
I laugh softly, my thumb tracing the sharp curve of one tusk before skimming down his jaw. “Then we’ll bring two. I want your family to know I come prepared.”
“Good thing,” he murmurs, eyes soft. “They already can’t wait to meet you.”
“And I can’t wait to meet them,” I say, meaning it. “Your family is my family now.”
He leans in, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “Kam’s still going to be insufferable.”
“Good thing I’m a lawyer,” I tease. “I know how to handle difficult witnesses.”
We walk toward his truck, my hand in his and a spray of sunflowers bright against my dark suit. This, right here, is happiness. Not the sharp, competitive satisfaction of winning a case or earning a promotion, but the quiet joy of sharing a victory with someone who loves me for exactly who I am.
For the first time in my life, I’m not chasing anything. I’m exactly where I want to be.
“One question,” I say as Forge opens the passenger door for me.
“Anything.”
“How exactly am I supposed to concentrate at Thanksgiving dinner in two days when I’ll be spending the entire time trying not to think about what you did to me after the gala? Everyone’s going to know.”
His eyes go molten. “Let them know. I want them to see exactly how adored you are.”
“Promise?”
The look he gives me is full of dark promise and infinite love. “Always,” he says, and somehow it feels like forever begins right there.