Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Dane
After I drop Gram off at her house, I hit up my home gym, trying to burn off some of this restless energy. Kendall has me on edge, my mind racing. When I was close to her, it felt like my whole body was vibrating. Touching her, kissing her—it felt instinctual.
As I work out, my phone vibrates. It’s a text from her, and I don’t think this smile is leaving my face anytime soon.
Kendall:
Coffee would have been fabulous. But really, thank you for moving all that furniture.
Seeing her this morning has me on a high. Working out helps me think through things for work, but today it’s not work that floods my mind—just her.
I keep my workout to thirty minutes and am still sweating profusely.
I’ll probably head into the office today.
Weekends are workdays for me. So, I make my way to the kitchen first to fill up my water bottle and head straight to my shower.
There's a mountain of work waiting at the office, and Logan can't handle it all alone. I’m surprised he hasn’t texted me to see when I’ll be in.
Usually, I’m already at the office by now on a Saturday.
Once I’m in the shower, I can't shake off this inner reckoning. Maggie crushed my heart and my soul. I’ve been living under the impression that I shouldn’t date anyone, that it would save me the heartache.
One-night stands solved that problem until Kendall.
I have no idea what I’m doing, but what I do know—she might be worth it.
The water from multiple showerheads pummels my body. I had the shower custom-built, and I can control the temperature and pressure. It’s luxurious, especially after a workout when my muscles need some heat and massaging. As I step out of the shower, I reach for my towel and dry off my body.
My feet sound softly against the hardwood floor of my enormous room, each step measured and purposeful.
In the spacious walk-in closet, roughly the size of a small bedroom, there are custom-built shelves and drawers.
Deciding to head into the office casually, I grab a pair of dark jeans, a crisp white button-down shirt, and slide them on.
A last glance in the mirror reveals a face that has seen too many sleepless nights, prompting me to run my fingers through my slightly disheveled hair.
Scanning the room for my phone, I spot it sitting on my bed. The urge to text Kendall about our date is overwhelming. Even though I just texted her an hour ago, I can’t hold back and just do it.
Dane:
I can’t get you off my mind… dress up tomorrow. I'm taking you somewhere special.
Kendall:
It was like a sauna in here earlier ;) Okay! Is it a secret?
Dane:
Yes!
Kendall:
Secret, huh?! Can I guess?
I could hear a pin drop when I walked into the office.
On the long table, my brother, Logan, sits with his head cradled in his hands, frustration seeping into the air.
The case we’re working on has proven to be a relentless storm of complications.
The sun blasts through the wall of windows, illuminating the huge glass-topped conference table.
With over a dozen chairs around the table, it’s hard to think that this is our second home these days.
I pause at the doorway, silently bracing myself, and then stride in, closing the door firmly behind me. “What now?” I ask, my tone half-ironic and laced with exasperation.
Logan lowers his hands to his face, mumbling between strained breaths, “This case is going to be the death of me.” His voice is heavy with despair as he gestures vaguely toward a corner where the clutter of a dozen boxes looms ominously.
My jaw is tight. “No shit! Another endless cascade of problems?”
With a frustrated sigh, Logan explains, “The prosecutor’s office dropped off all those damn files after you left last night.” He points toward a mountain of evidence-filled boxes, as if they were ready to engulf us entirely.
I rub my temples. “Alright, let's recruit a couple of interns for this. We need to move through these quickly.” I stride purposefully over to the pile, methodically shifting boxes onto the conference table, each thud echoing our shared exasperation.
The two of us quickly sift through the first stacks, sorting them into piles of obviously irrelevant documents and a separate stack we plan to catalog.
Amid the controlled chaos, Logan can’t help but tease, arching an eyebrow as he jabs, “Why are you so late this morning, Dane? Another late-night rendezvous with the flavor of the night?” His tone is teasing, yet laced with genuine curiosity.
I shoot back with a curt, “Fuck off,” all while rifling through yet another box. “Gram had me doing chores early this morning. I can’t ever say no to her,” I add with a dismissive shake of my head.
Logan chuckles, shaking his head as if recalling an old, inescapable charm. “Nobody can say no to Gram.”
I offer a wry smile as I continue pulling out files. “Yeah, I ended up moving furniture for a downtown business owner.”
“You need to give me more than that vague answer. This is the second time. Give me the details on her,” Logan probes with a hint of amusement.
Desperate to steer the conversation back to our ever-demanding case files, I avert my gaze from Logan and focus on the documents spread before us. “Oh, just the hair salon that Gram goes to,” I say vaguely, hoping to keep it light, and he’ll be satisfied with that information.
Logan’s eyes widen with curiosity as he leans in slightly. “Are you talking about Kendall’s salon? Wait, she's the one you went downtown for, too?” His tone betrays genuine interest as he contemplates the unexpected twist in our morning chatter.
“Eh, yeah, how do you know her?”
“I’ve had to drop Gram off there a few times over the years. The fiery redhead. I’m sure you noticed.” He winks at me knowingly.
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, I noticed.” Feeling thankful Logan wasn’t there at Buena Vista's the night I met Kendall. The night she crept into my subconscious. Not knowing what I was getting myself into. Shaking off the feeling, I look up to see my brother staring at me. “What?”
He searches for something, anything to give him a clue. Looking at me with his skeptical eyes, “So…”
Shit. He knows me too well. As I try not to give away too much, I say, “Yes, she seems nice enough.” I keep myself moving and distracted from this conversation.
“These files are chock-full of irrelevant paperwork. It’s going to take us hours to rifle through all this crap to find the one or two pieces of paper they fucking buried in here. ”
Logan stands up and moves to the boxes that sit on the table.
He riffles through the pile of irrelevant paperwork to confirm it’s not worth keeping.
“Yeah, I don’t know how an intern is going to help.
We might need to pull Kai in for this. He’s detail-oriented, and we had him on this case earlier. Let’s get him in here.”
While Logan takes care of the pile, I pick up the conference room phone and slam my index finger onto the keys for Kai’s number. It rings three times before he picks up. “Kai, can you come to the 5th-floor conference room within the hour?”
Without hesitation, he says, “Be right there.”
“Before Kai arrives, is there something going on between you…and Kendall?” His eyes are soft, and I’m wondering what he’s thinking.
“Nah, she’s just another really hot chick I wouldn’t mind fucking,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster.
“Cool, cool,” he says before moving on to the next pile.
Kai doesn’t live far from the office, so it was no surprise he’d show up quickly.
The minute he walks in, we debrief him. The rest of the morning was spent sorting through the boxes.
Kai finds an important piece of paperwork—a document that the prosecutor definitely tried to hide in these boxes.
It could be our smoking gun. Dragging the whiteboard over to connect the dots of the day in question, we comb through the day minute by minute.
We mark down the holes in the prosecutor's timeline, and this document proves our guy wasn’t where the prosecutor says he was. Finally, we catch a break.
It’s well past lunchtime, and I hear Kai’s stomach growl. “Let’s take a break.”
“I’m hitting up the corner diner; want something?” Kai offers.
“I’ll take a Reuben,” I say.
“Make that two,” Logan pipes in from behind the pile of boxes on the floor. He looks determined to find something.
The minute I stop focusing on this case, my thoughts are like a movie in my mind. With my hands on her face, our tongues play like we can’t keep our hands off each other. And then the memory again of her fiery red hair fanned on my pillow, like that first night we met.
Needing a break from looking at this paperwork, I snag my phone from the table and decide to write Kendall back. Leaning back in my chair, tipping it onto the back two legs, I text her.
Dane:
You can ask three questions, and I’ll even give you a hint. We need to take a ferry.
I watch to see if she reads it and responds, but after five minutes, I put my phone back on the table.
“Bro, hey! I’ve been talking to you, and you’re somewhere else.” Logan looks at me with concern.
I really don’t want to confide in him, but he’ll figure it out.
“You can’t say anything to anyone. Seriously, I’m confiding in you,” I respond, staring daggers his way, letting him know I’m fucking serious.
“Guy, I’m definitely busting your balls, but I always have your back. You know that,” he says as he strides over to the table. “What’s up with you, and who are you texting?”
“Kendall…”
“Oh, shit!” He doesn’t say another word as he leans in closer to me, waiting for the words to come out of my mouth.
It takes a few extra beats before I’m able to even open my mouth, but finally, “I slept with her a few weeks ago and…well, I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s stuck in my head.”
“Did you catch…feelings?” He looks at me, confused, with furrowed brows and a teasing tone.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to share with him without sounding like I’m already pussy-whipped.
I dive headfirst into the story about her, all of it from the one-night stand to the visit to the building department, the coffeehouse, the texting, and I end with this morning’s furniture moving.
He’s shocked and can’t speak a word. Speechless. That hardly ever happens with Logan.
“I don’t fucking know.”
“What’s all this talk about a girl?” asks Dad. Of all the fucking timing, he walks in on this conversation.
“Nah, just another random girl.” Logan jumps in to brush off the conversation as no big deal.
“Well, you know, son, we have standards in this family.”
Here we fucking go. If I have to hear him on his soapbox about how we can only date certain types of women—ones who come from powerful families, with money and political influence.
I might walk out the door. I have to hear his speech a few times a year ever since I broke up with Maggie.
Logan is lucky. He got off scot-free when he married his high school sweetheart.
He’ll try to hold me to that standard, but he allowed Logan to marry someone who didn’t meet all the criteria. Let him try that shit with me.
“Dad, you tell me all the time. I hear you,” I say, not making eye contact.
“Well, a lot is riding on your image, son,” he says sternly with his finger pecking at the air.
He can say whatever the fuck he wants. I’ll marry—well, if I ever do—who I want. For love. Not for status, not for his bullshit inheritance clause or anything else.
Lean casually in my chair with my arms overhead and say, “Isn’t it time to move on from that ideology, Dad?”
“You have responsibilities to this family,” he snaps, his face turning red.
“Okay, okay. Logan and I need to focus our attention back on this case. Is there anything else?” Being dismissed is not something you do to Edward Walsh, but he has no choice with both of his sons sitting at the table. He lets out a deep sigh and leaves the conference room.
Logan looks at me with sympathy. “Man, you’re under a microscope.”
“Yeah, I know! I haven’t had to worry about it, and who knows, maybe this thing with Kendall won’t even amount to anything serious.”
I lift myself off the chair and say, “I need some fresh air. I’ll be back in a few. Let me know when Kai gets back.” Picking up my phone, I walk out the door.