Chapter First Closing Argument
FIRST CLOSING ARGUMENT
I brought my tea mug with me to look out at the endless green of Preston’s property. I couldn’t say it was a hardship for the nights I stayed over—which, to be honest, was most nights.
PMS was very persuasive when it came to finding ways to get me out of my dresses each evening. And yoga pants. And my favorite boxer shorts I’d started stealing.
Non-worn ones, thanks. I didn’t need man funk on my lady parts. There was a distinct difference between getting wild and naked and borrowing someone’s underwear.
However, in his very Preston way, he had backup packs in his handy dandy accessory panel. You know, the kind that only rich people had. I was a sucker for hidden spaces of any kind and when I’d been snooping—sue me—I’d found his boxer stash.
Now my stash.
Which I was wearing right now with the dress shirt I’d stolen off the chair in his bedroom. I’d had to roll up the sleeves like crazy because his arms were ridiculously long, but I was officially a fan of the richie rich finery from his closet.
I wouldn’t tell him that of course.
And to be truthful, I really liked his long arms. Especially when he decided to do his workouts with his new rowing machine.
Hello.
Watching him do that full row with all the muscles moving and shifting under his tanned skin? Yeah, sign me up for that daily workout. Well, to watch it anyway.
Then again, he definitely enjoyed my yoga workouts. However, he wasn’t exactly the bendiest guy in that regard. He’d tried hard to do some beginner poses, but in the end, we decided to play to our strengths.
It didn’t stop him from setting up half of his workout room with yoga supplies for me. In fact, he kept doing little things that made my heart turn over.
Smoky leaped onto the kitchen table by the window.
“Well, hey there. PMS is going to freak if he sees you on the table.” But I simply stroked a hand down his smooth fur. His motorboat of a purr rolled out and made me smile. He went onto his back legs and waved his paw at me.
“Shameless.” But I leaned down so he could leap on my shoulder, his favorite place to be. He settled into the crook of my neck and butted his head against my jaw. Little devil. I scratched under his chin and fixed the pile of papers he’d scattered.
I paused as I realized it was my contract, the one that had a whole lot of red pen marks in Preston’s slashing handwriting. Penn Masterson had sent it over the other day after he got my first batch of sketches.
Sylvia and Roz officially had a new roommate—Smoky, the tripod cat.
Our cat was a budding comic star. I rubbed my cheek against the purring furbaby, already snoozing on me.
And now that I had a lawyer in my back pocket, who just happened to have a startling ability to research and assimilate anything—namely entertainment law or his new obsession, family law—I had someone looking out for me.
I was getting used to the idea.
It was weird and wonderful, even if I didn’t quite know what to do with it most days.
“Did you make enough for both of us?” His voice rumbled behind me just before his big hand slid under my shirt to find skin.
I sipped from my mug and nodded toward the teapot his mother had gifted to me when we’d gone to the tarot festival a few weeks ago.
“I’m not sure what kind of magic you add to your tea, but I ordered more of this stuff for our new office.”
“Your office,” I corrected him.
“Mmm.”
I rolled my eyes. I was not going to be working for him again. I wasn’t.
I was pretty sure.
I lifted Smoky off my shoulder and settled him on one of the chairs at the table. We’d stashed one of his half-dozen cat beds there so he could sit with us when we ate our meals. Because of course Preston wasn’t the kind of guy to eat on the couch like I usually did.
Smoky huffed out a sigh and settled after I gave him another few pats.
“I saw the contract.”
“Masterson can do a lot better than that boilerplate nonsense.”
“I’m an unknown, PMS.”
“It doesn’t matter. You have a year’s worth of drawings—”
“They have to be tweaked with Smoky. They’re not all done.”
He blew on his tea in the llama mug I’d given him. I couldn’t stop grinning especially since he was wearing the matching llama sleep pants I’d bought for him. Then again, the ripple of abs shifting as he leaned against the counter made just about anything appetizing.
“Hungry?”
His dark eyes went all heavy-lidded sexy times. “Always.”
“I need sustenance first.”
“Protein?”
I drilled a finger into those distractible abs. “Maybe later, ace.”
He lifted his mug for a sip. “Suit yourself.”
I went around him to the fridge and found the fixings for my version of Moons Over My Hammy. It was our favorite Sunday treat. Sometimes in the middle of the week too when PMS was feeling wild. Or sometimes a midnight snack after we needed a little fuel.
For such an uptight lawyer type, he had a very intense sex drive. I wasn’t complaining. I’d never actually been with a man who could keep up with me.
I set the broiler to preheat then started cracking eggs. PMS came up behind me, his hands slipping back under my-slash-his shirt once more. Long, warm fingers trailed over my midriff and down into my shorts. “Smells delicious,” he said against my ear.
“I haven’t started cooking yet.”
“Wasn’t talking about the food.” He nuzzled my ear, nipping the shell before kissing his way down my neck.
I shivered, then hissed out a breath as his very clever fingers found their way between my thighs.
“Are you really hungry?”
“Yes.” I had to concentrate on how to use a whisk. The man was ridiculously dangerous for my mental acuity.
The ultra soft cotton of his pants slid across the backs of my thighs, and a decidedly happy Preston was rapidly firming against my backside.
Hello, sir.
Deft fingers teased along skin that was still sensitive from his beard action last night before he dipped two fingers inside and tucked his palm against my clit. His other hand cupped one of my breasts.
“I love when you wear my clothes, but I wouldn’t mind if you left some of your own here.”
My brain short-circuited as pleasure and new data tried to merge. I dropped my head back against his chest as he flicked his thumbnail over my nipple while pulsing inside of me with his other hand. “Clothes?”
“Mmm-hmm. I made space in my closet, if that was something you were interested in.”
“Right.” I rolled my hips into his touch. “Wait? Room for what?”
“Your clothes, Ryan. Merging with mine. You know, in a closet kind of way.”
Another swipe from his thumb, then he gentled his touch until my skin was awash with the familiar buzzing of energy right before I started speaking gibberish ending in his name.
He lightly trailed his fingers away from my breast and down my belly. “Make sure you make a little extra. I worked up an appetite last night.” He slid his fingers out of me, nipping my neck before he licked them. “I’ll go grab a quick shower. Think about what I said.”
I gripped the counter. “Okay, good.”
Think about what? I was currently scrambled as the eggs in the bowl before me.
He walked away whistling as I relearned how words worked on the various packages in front of me.
I frowned down at the ham steak. Had he just asked me to leave clothes at his house?
I jumped as the oven beeped to let me know the broiler was ready. Well, that made two of us.
Damn him. He was always sneaky about nudging me into doing what he wanted. “Lawyers,” I muttered and put the ham steaks in to broil.
I washed my hands and heated a pan for the eggs just as my phone rang.
Since no one actually called me, I hurried over to make sure it wasn’t just a spam number. Surprised to see Luna’s name on the screen, I picked up and put her on speaker.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Ry? Are you home?”
I frowned and turned off the pan. It wasn’t like Luna to sound panicked. “No. I’m at Preston’s.”
“Oh.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No. Yes. Yes and no. Oh, goddess. One second.”
The phone clattered onto something. “Lu? Luna, are you okay?”
I heard water running and a groan before she came back on. “Ugh. I swear, I don’t have anything in my body to throw up, and yet it still keeps coming.”
“Oh, hell. Are you okay? Do you have the flu? I can come over and bring broth or stop at Georgia’s shop for supplies.” Luna’s superpower was making her own elixirs from our friend’s apothecary.
“No, I have something a little more permanent.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Of the demon spawn variety. Freaking teacher. Imma kill him. He’s never known the hex that I’m going to put on him. His ancestors for a thousand years will hate him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ugh. One more second.” The phone hit the table or the floor—I couldn’t be sure which one.
I rushed over to the stove and pulled out the ham before I burned down Preston’s very nice kitchen. I slammed the pan on the stovetop and waved away the smoke. “Shit.”
I ran over to the window and opened it to get the smoke out. The cat, who was obsessed with the window, hopped up and started cleaning his leg.
“Ry?”
“Here,” I yelled and ran back to the phone.
“What’s going on?” Preston came running in, wearing just a pair of jeans. “Is that smoke?”
I waved to him and he saw the overcooked ham. He flicked on the overhead fan and gently pushed me to go sit down.
“What can I do?” I asked Luna.
“I need somewhere to crash for a bit.”
“She can stay here,” Preston said. “She’s family.”
My eyes instantly filled. I had to swallow down the lump. I quickly hit mute on my phone. “You don’t even know what the problem is.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He crossed to me and rubbed my arms. “Tell her to pack a bag, and I’ll go get her.”
“We will.”
He kissed my forehead. “We’ll go get her.”
I unmuted my phone. “Lu? You can stay here with us.” I pressed my lips together. Us was getting a lot easier to say. “Preston offered up one of his guest rooms. He’s got a ton of them.”
“With its own bathroom, maybe? I don’t mean to be greedy, but the porcelain throne is my new best friend.”
Spawn. Throne. The pieces slid into place. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I’d handle it myself, but I just need a spot to think for a little bit.”
“Anything you need. Always. You don’t have to handle it alone.” I grabbed Preston’s hand. “We got you.”
Luna sniffed. “I love you.”
“I love you too, girl.”
“I need to take a shower and clean up.”
“Okay, we’ll be there in a little bit. Take care of you.”
“Take care of you,” she parroted back in our usual goodbyes.
I held my phone against my thigh. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“When are you going to get it, Ryan? Your problems are my problems. It’s just the way it is. And I love Luna just as much as you do.”
I stared at the middle of his chest as everything blurred. “She sounds so scared. That’s not like her.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll help her. I promise.” He gathered me close.
I looped my arms around his waist, one hand still clutching my phone. I pressed my cheek to his chest. “No one has ever stood up for me before. And you’ve done it quite a few times now.”
“And I’ll keep doing it. One of these days, you’ll trust that I always will.”
I held onto him tighter. “I do believe you. I’m sorry it takes me longer to trust.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I know. Doesn’t make me love you any less.”
I shifted away enough to go up on my toes and kissed him gently.
He cupped my face and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “Now let’s go get our girl. I know just the room to put her in.”
“One that’s not too close to ours, right? I mean yours.”
He grinned down at me. “No, opposite end of the house.”
“Good.” I twisted my fingers in his belt loops. “Maybe we could stop at my place first. I’ll get some stuff.”
He grabbed my hand and squeezed hard. “You got it.”
I glanced over at our massacred breakfast. “And maybe we can pick up the real Moons Over My Hammy?”
His lips quirked. “You got it, Miss Moon.”