My phone rings, startling out of my thoughts. I fumble for my phone, nearly dropping it between the seats. A string of unknown numbers flashes across the screen. Curiosity wins over caution, and I answer.
"Hello?"
"Is this Nicole d’Armand?" A crisp, professional voice inquires.
"Yes, this is she." My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
"Ms. d’Armand, my na is Marcus Ashby. I’m Logan Everett’s attorney."
My heart skips a beat.
"I was hoping we could et to discuss so matters regarding Mr. Everett’s case. Are you available?"
"Um, sure. When and where?"
"There’s a café called Flava Bean on 5th and Oak. Are you familiar with it?"
Interesting. Not a choice I’d think a richie rich lawyer would choose. "Yes, I know the place."
"Excellent. Could you et there in, say, fifteen minutes?"
Fifteen minutes? I glance at the clock on my dashboard. It’s cutting it close, but...
"I can make that work," I hear myself say, even as a part of screams that this is a terrible idea.
"Perfect. I’ll see you then, Ms. d’Armand. Thank you for your ti."
The line goes dead, leaving with a surge of adrenaline and a thousand questions. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
Marcus Ashby is my line to Logan. I don’t know if there’s any way I can help him, but at least I can send him a ssage.
I rge into the left lane, preparing to turn around. Flava Bean is in the opposite direction of my new apartnt—another fun thing that’s happened in the last two weeks, because apparently it’s easy to get out of your lease when your apartnt’s a freaking cri scene—but ho is a lot less appealing than this new and unexpected eting.
Did they find new evidence? Or maybe they found sothing that could exonerate him?
The familiar storefront of Flava Bean cos into view, its warm lights a beacon in the growing twilight. I pull into a parking spot a few blocks down, my hands shaking slightly as I turn off the engine.
Then I take a deep breath, straighten my jacket, and step out of the car. Autumn’s in full force. Everyone’s huddled against the wind as they rush through the streets, heading to wherever they’re going.
The bell above the door chis as I enter, and the familiar aroma of coffee assaults as soon as I walk in.
"Ms. d’Armand."
He sees before I see him, and my heart stutters when I glance in his direction.
My world narrows to two brilliant green eyes, glinting with a hint of gold.
Logan. My breath catches in my throat as our eyes lock across the café. The relief that floods through is so intense it’s almost painful.
"Ms. d’Armand?" A crisp, cultured voice cuts through my daze. "I’m Marcus Ashby. We spoke on the phone."
I tear my gaze away from Logan to face the lawyer. Ashby stands before , hand extended, the picture of polished professionalism. His suit, probably more expensive than my car, is tailored to perfection. Not a single hair out of place. Expensive-slling cologne.
"Nice to et you," I manage, shaking his hand. My voice sounds distant, distracted. Because it is.
My attention magnetizes back to Logan. He leans against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, a slight smile playing on his lips. He’s amused. After two weeks in jail, he’s amused.
His cocky attitude should infuriate , but I’m too distracted with appreciating him to care.
He looks... good. Too good. There’s a bruise high on one cheek, and a cut on his lip. His handso face is otherwise unmarred, except by that cocky grin of his. His golden hair is slightly tousled, as if he’s run his fingers through it recently. It’s a habit of his.
But it’s his eyes that draw in. Those striking green eyes that can shift from icy to molten in a heartbeat. Right now, they’re warm, amused... and hungry. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine.
He’s ditched the orange jumpsuit for dark jeans and a forest green sweater that clings to his muscular fra in all the right places. The color makes his eyes pop even more.
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way my body responds to his presence.
Not appropriate, Nicole. You’re in public!
But his pheromones wrap around like a warm, inviting embrace, teasing into wanting more.
"Please, have a seat." Ashby’s voice breaks through my Logan-induced haze. He gestures to the empty chair at their table.
I slide into the seat, hyperaware of Logan’s proximity as he sits beside his lawyer. My skin prickles with awareness, especially when his foot nudges against mine.
"I’m glad you could join us on such short notice, Ms. d’Armand," Ashby says, his tone smooth and practiced. "I thought it would be beneficial for all parties if we had a frank discussion about recent events."
I nod, not trusting my voice. My body’s all about things that aren’t professional at all, a victim to Logan’s pheromones, but my brain’s trying desperately to stomp on the brakes and listen to the lawyer.
Important stuff.
Sex is not important. Sex can happen later.
Logan shifts slightly, drawing my attention once more. His eyes never leave my face, studying with an intensity that makes my cheeks flush.
"Hey, Nikki," he says softly, his deep voice sending another tremor through . He’s never called that before. Has he?
The sound of my nickna rolling off his tongue has clenching my thighs together. Such a simple thing, and yet its effect is extre.
"Logan," I breathe, hating how breathless I sound. Get it together, Nicole. You aren’t a vapid schoolgirl.
He smirks, clearly aware of the effect he’s having on . Smug bastard. I narrow my eyes at him, which only makes his grin widen.
"As I was saying," Ashby continues, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore the crackling tension between Logan and , "there are so matters we need to discuss regarding Sergeant Everett’s case."
I force myself to focus on the lawyer, even as Logan’s presence thrums through my veins. His foot nudges mine again. "Of course. What can I do to help?"
Ashby leans forward, steepling his fingers. "First and foremost, we need to establish a clear tiline of events leading up to Scott Bower’s death. I’m aware you’ve been through this several tis with the police, but I’ll have you go through it again with ."
"Okay. I’m not sure how that will help. I haven’t rembered anything."
Reviews
All reviews (0)