Chapter 43 Justin
Justin
Outside the guest bedroom, I stand and wait, feeling like an outsider in my own home.
I want to bust in, scoop Lexi into my arms, confirm she’s okay after the events of last night.
But I also want to let her sleep, relax and kiss each one of her bruises away.
I lean my forehead against the door and close my eyes.
Lexi loves me.
She only said it once, so quietly I nearly missed it, and I almost begged her to say it again and again.
It hasn’t sunk in. It feels like at any moment it’s going to be ripped away.
Between replaying those words, and the revenge fantasies I entertained for the guy who hurt her, I don’t think I slept.
It’s a little fucked up, but I’m kind of grateful to this guy. Not that I’ll ever say this. But I would’ve never met Lexi had he not done what he’d done. And I would go through all the chaos a million times over to have her in my life.
I tap my knuckles outside the door and wait. No response. Tap again. ‘Lexi, can I come in?’
Behind the doors comes some gentle rustling, and soon a timid, ‘Ah … yep. Come in.’
I crack open the door and blink into the duskily lit room as Lexi props herself up and pulls the covers to her chin. ‘Morning. I didn’t want to wake you, but Erica and Zane are on the way. Jack also said that Marcus wants to meet with you soon.’
She digs a pinkie into the corner of her eye and yawns. ‘What time is it?’
‘9:15.’
‘What!’ She whips off the covers and hops out of bed. ‘9:15? Holy shit, how the hell did I sleep so long?’
My breath locks. Lexi. No bra, no shorts, the bottom of the T-shirt grazing a few inches below … everything. God those legs … I quickly turn my back. ‘I’ll be downstairs. I can have the housekeeper throw your clothes in the laundry if you like.’
Well, that just happened. Thank God the lights were off, because I’m not sure I could’ve fully controlled myself. We may have started The Talk. But lines are fuzzy and I cannot push her before she’s ready.
Twenty minutes later, after I fetch her gym bag from her Jeep and leave it outside her door, I’m elbow deep in flour, eggs and bacon, and my kitchen fills with a buttery, savory cloud.
‘Is Erica here yet?’ Lexi asks as she storms into the space, then freezes and glances at the counter top. ‘Yum. What do you have going on in here?’
‘Jesus Christ. Your face.’
She pours herself a cup of coffee and sits at the island. ‘What every woman wants to hear: “your face” followed by a look of disgust.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ I say, turning off the stove. But she does look terrible. Purple and red outline her half-swollen eye, her arms, her shoulders. I bite back the fierce need to find out which holding cell this guy is in so I can give him proper, crushing payback.
‘I’m kidding. It’s a little bruised and swollen, but it’s fine.’ She adds a dash of creamer to the mug. ‘What are you making? It smells amazing.’
‘I call this my nervous energy buffet.’ I set a plate in front of her and hand her a fork. ‘Protein pancakes with nuts and bananas, eggs with prosciutto and goat cheese, green juice and fruit.’
‘You did this in twenty minutes? I’m gonna take one in the face every week if this is the type of service I get.’ She grins at me, but I can’t smile. ‘You need to stop, okay? I’m fine. This is not the first time I’ve taken a hit, and it won’t be the last.’
My jaw tightens.
‘Besides, you should see the other guy.’ She winks.
And now, I smile.
I hand her butter and syrup. She slathers both on her pancake, pools a little extra syrup on the side and devours like she’s never seen a meal before. God, she’s sexy as hell. With every bite, my anger lifts. The only thing that will make me happier is if she licks the plate clean.
We talk about last night and go through some next steps which are more logistical than anything. Several minutes later, Zane walks in the room accompanied by Erica. ‘Well, shit, Doc,’ Zane says. ‘You look like you were ridden hard and put away wet.’
‘Jesus Christ, Zane.’ I glare.
Zane throws up their hands up and mouths what?
‘If you haven’t realized by now, Doc doesn’t like people worrying about her.
’ Zane peers closely at Lexi’s face. A deep frown line forms as they put a gentle hand on Lexi’s arm.
‘I really want to ask her how she is, force her to get weekly massages paid for by you, and hunt down the fucker who did this. But I can’t say that or she gets mad.
So, I’ll stick with my crass jokes and bury my feelings. ’
Lexi grins and stabs her fork into the final bite.
‘Sounds like you had quite the action-packed night, Doc,’ Erica says as she sets down her briefcase. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’m fine. It’s just a small shiner, couple of bruises and the lip is already healing.’ Lexi slides away the plate. ‘I sent you and our base security team the preliminary report earlier, and today I’ll transcribe the voice memo I took post-incident.’
‘Excellent.’ Erica digs out a few documents from her briefcase.
‘The arraignment could be as early as this afternoon, or as late as Friday morning. The judge signed off on the warrant, which is good news. We’ll seize his computer and any other items to help with the case.
I’ll be sure to send everyone an email when I know more. ’
The next several hours bustle with logistics, meetings and decisions.
By mid-afternoon, conversations slow down.
As Erica walks me and Lexi through the process of upcoming court proceedings, I steal so many glances at Lexi, I’m worried that she’ll knee me in the ribs.
But every time I do, she gives me this quick, sweet, knowing grin. And I completely eat it up.
Lexi loves me.
What a crazy twenty-four-hour period – a third dimension, fogged reality. All day is an endless parade of interviews, lawyers, concerned faces and paperwork. We are so close to putting this all behind us.
Lexi motions me to the den. ‘Hey, I’m leaving to meet the gate security manager.
I’ll be gone for at least an hour or two.
We’re going to outline the security lapse possibilities and evaluate scenarios to see how this guy entered your property.
And I need copies of the hard drive to scour camera footage on my mandatory post-incident week off. ’
‘What?’ She cannot leave again. I literally just got her back and they’re making her leave? ‘But you just had time off after the grocery store incident. You got him, right? You can stay.’
The pleading in my voice is nearly unrecognizable, but I don’t care. I’ll call Marcus myself, fire Lexi on the spot, start my own agency, whatever it takes to keep her here, with me.
‘I know, but it’s Marcus’s rules.’ Her lips sink into a sad smile. ‘The last thing I want to do is leave. Trust me. But until the charges are filed, you’re still under our care, so to speak. Like last time, it’ll be the two guys who cover my days off.’
I glance behind my shoulder and lower my voice. ‘But we have so much to talk about.’ Right now, I want nothing more than to have an uninterrupted, sit-down discussion.
Okay, wait. There is something that I want to do more. But, even that can wait until we get everything out in the air. She strokes my arm, softly, the pads of her finger running over my skin, and I almost hyperventilate. ‘I know. But I’ll be back soon. I promise.’
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘But I fundamentally disagree with this.’
Her eyes meet mine, slide to my lips and back up. This look alone makes me hard. I stare at her mouth. Her beautiful, beautiful mouth. What I would do to have just one tiny sample. It’s a good thing she’s leaving because I want to tear off those leggings, kneel in front of her and worship her.
Lexi glances around the empty space and presses the back of her hand to mine. It’s a movement that’s so simple, so delicate, the skin barely brushing mine, but I can read what she’s doing. The electric charge courses through my veins. She hooks her pinky around mine and my breathing stops.
‘How about you call me tonight?’
Her voice is an octave above a whisper, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep my hands to myself.
The image of her in nothing but my T-shirt this morning, her creamy, muscular thighs …
‘I know you’re technically still on duty,’ I say, matching the low tone, keeping my pinkie locked with hers. ‘But when I call, can we talk?’
I know she knows what I mean. I’m in fucking love with Lexi Morgan. I want to know what she looks like when she sleeps, how her head would feel pressed against my chest, if I can hold her again, what she smells like.
A sweet, rose blushes her cheeks, and she nods. ‘Yes, we can talk.’