Off Limits (22 page)

T
he next two
weeks pass in a blur. There’s case work all day every day, and sometimes extra work to take home. But home has become half the time at my place and half the time at Chloe’s. Taking work back from the office becomes a lot more enjoyable when you can take breaks between work to distract your partner in increasingly more creative ways. My personal favorite lately is when Chloe whipped out a blindfold and led me into her bedroom, only to shove me against the door while she knelt in front of me and undid my dress pants, leaving my shirt on, and my hands free to grip her hair as she pulled my cock free, licking every inch of me.

But then again, that might just be my favorite because it was last night. So far every night has been better than the last, even the one night when we were both so spent that we just collapsed in each other’s arms on my comfy but definitely not stylish couch, and woke up at dawn all tangled up in each other.

I can’t get enough of this woman.

The rumors have started to percolate at work, but so far we’ve managed to stave them off. We don’t arrive together, or if we do, I dart off to fetch us both coffee before meeting back in her office, so not too many people see us come in hand-in-hand.

Eventually, we know, the cat will get out of the bag. But we’ll face that bridge when we come to it. For now, we’re just enjoying the journey.

But now, this morning, we have our first huge hurdle to face together.

Suzie Steel’s trial.

“You ready?” Chloe asks me as we pause outside the courtroom, notes stacked in our briefcases, both of us dressed to the nines.

“Always. You?” I cast her a sideways smile, the private one I only reserve for her. I reach up to brush a stray hair from her forehead in a simple, smooth motion. The last time I’ll be able to touch her for the next five hours, after we enter the court. That alone is more torturous than this whole case put together.

But her wide, relaxed smile puts me at ease. Much as it will pain me to keep my hands off of her for now, I know we’ll always have later tonight to look forward to. “As long as I’ve got you with me, we can’t lose,” she murmurs.

Then the doors open and we stride into the courtroom side-by-side, an unstoppable team.

Suzie’s already waiting for us, and her eyes flash between us in appreciation. We haven’t told her anything either, but I’m pretty sure she’s picked up on our vibes by now, given how often we’ve met this last week, doing our final prep.

Besides, Suzie always had an inkling something was possible between us. Probably before Chloe or I even noticed it ourselves.

“You two look awfully fine together,” Suzie murmurs under her breath as she shakes our hands. “A matched set.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I say as we fold ourselves into our chairs on either side of Suzie. “Chloe’s much too good-looking to match me.”

Chloe shoots me a playful glare, even as Suzie swats my arm.

“So you
did
finally notice, huh?” Suzie pumps my bicep once, painfully hard.

“Finally?” I lift an eyebrow. “I always knew, I just didn’t want to expand Miss MacIntyre’s ego too painfully.”

“Oh, sure, it’s my ego we need to worry about,” she hisses back across Suzie.

“We?” Suzie interrupts.

We both snap our mouths shut, but that does nothing to stave off our client’s knowing chuckle.

Luckily, Chloe and I fare much better in court than we do in dodging Suzie’s laser-sharp sexual-tension-radar. We walk through the case with record ease. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve never walked through a case with Chloe before—watching her speak years earlier was impressive enough, but being on her team, knowing all the work and forethought she puts into her courtroom performance, that just makes it even more impressive to witness as she struts her stuff in front of the judge.

We trade off, but I can’t help feeling her speeches are stronger than mine. Or maybe I’m just biased, because I can’t tear my eyes from her whenever she’s up there, on fire at the front of the room, denouncing the way this company has stolen our client’s brand, repurposed it for themselves, taken Suzie’s hard work and tried to profit off of it when they haven’t done an ounce of legwork to build a fitness empire like Suzie did.

By the end of the long, long day, when everyone has started to droop in their seats, Chloe is still going strong, her eyes still alight with righteous indignation as she delivers our closing remarks on behalf of us both.

I have to resist the overpowering urge to grab her hand when she finally returns to her seat. I want to tell her how amazing she is right here. But that will have to wait until the judge issues his decision.

The judge calls for a break, and we both turn toward Suzie, expecting that we’ll need to reassure her right now. Suzie, however, looks more relaxed than either one of us, leaning back in her seat, her hands folded behind her head.

“I can’t lose,” she tells us when we ask how she’s holding up. “Not with both of you on my side. And working together as well as you do.” She flashes me a wink.

I expect Chloe to retort, but she jumps a little in her seat, and then fishes in her briefcase to withdraw her phone. The screen lights up with a number, buzzing repeatedly. One glance at the screen makes her face pale, her normally confident expression slide right off her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” I lean across Suzie to catch her eye.

Chloe glances at me, swallows hard, her lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s the hospital,” she says. “Paul’s room.”

“Answer it,” I tell her, firmly.

“But . . . what if it’s not. . .” She sucks her lower lip between her teeth to worry at it.

“Answer it, Chloe. You won’t be able to relax until you do.”

We’ve heard updates on and off over the last couple of weeks from Paul’s son John and his wife Abbey, but nothing conclusive. Always just more of the same— they’re running tests, they don’t know yet when they can release him, they aren’t sure yet if he might relapse.

Chloe closes her eyes as she taps on the screen and lifts the phone to her ear.

Screw propriety. Screw the courtroom. I slide out of my seat and walk around the table to stand beside her, my hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Chloe lifts her hand to wrap her fingers around mine and squeeze so tight it almost hurts, as she tilts her head to listen to the person on the other line.

I don’t know how long we stand like that. Luckily the judge’s recess is lasting quite a while, because she’s perched on the edge of her seat, her whole body held like a breath. I feel the same way, unable to relax or let go of the tension flooding me until I’m sure that Paul—and by extension, Chloe—will be okay.

Finally, she lowers the phone with a soft, murmured, “Thanks for letting me know.” Her head bows as she taps on the screen to disconnect the call, and her fingers quiver in mine.

My stomach clenches. Oh shit.

“Chloe. . . ?”

She finally lifts her head to meet my eye, and there are tears sparkling in hers. But a huge smile spreading across her face. “They’re releasing him today. He’s going to be okay.”

Without thinking, I lift her out of her seat, wrap both arms around her as she half-laughs, half-almost cries in relief. The whole courtroom, or at least those who remained to sit through the recess, stare at us in confusion, but I don’t care.

“I told you he was tough,” I whisper into the cloud of her crazy, flyaway blonde hair, and Chloe laughs against my chest, face buried in my shoulder.

When she sucks in a deep breath again, I let her go, just in time for the judge to step back into the room.
Thank you,
she mouths at me as we slide back into our respective seats.

“What the heck was that?” Suzie elbows me when I perch next to her again.

“Long-awaited good news,” I reply. “Let’s hope it’s only the first set of good tidings today, though.”

Luckily, the judge doesn’t make us all wait long after returning. “In the matter concerning Suzie Steel versus Brothers’ Court Fitness Company, creators of the Rotator, the court finds the defendant, Brothers’ Court Fitness Company. . .”

I hold my breath. One glance across the bench at Chloe tells me she’s doing the same. Beneath the table, where she probably thinks that no one can see—and probably nobody can except me and maybe Suzie—she has both of her fingers crossed, and her hands clutched together like she’s praying.

“Is liable of trademark infringement in the use of the slogan ‘Rub it in’ in their most recent television and radio commercial campaign.”

All three of us let go the breaths we’d been holding as one. Suzie straight up high-fives Chloe, then slaps my ass above the court bench, not even bothering to wait to hear the judge finish reading his decision before her celebrations begin. I elbow her into silence as he finishes his stating the facts and conclusions of law, talking about the necessity of protecting unregistered trademarks for businesses like Suzie Steel’s fitness empire, where the brand may not necessarily be something you can register (like Suzie herself, who is, I have to agree, pretty unquantifiable), but when you don’t want to misrepresent to the customer what a brand creator does or doesn’t agree with (for example, the questionable safety of the Rotator as a fitness device).

We stick around to finish the court proceedings, but as Chloe and I are clearing up to head out for the day—and looking forward to celebrating both of today’s wins later tonight, in her apartment, with the scented massage oil that I bought as a surprise for her—Suzie pauses beside the bench, both hands on her hips, in full-on sassy Suzie mode now.

“So. Now that our case is done, can you two admit that you’re hooking up yet?”

Chloe’s flush probably says it all, but I feel duty-bound to defend her honor.

“That’s hardly something we can discuss with a client, Ms. Steel,” I respond, in my best courtly-serious voice.

“I suppose that’s the closest thing to confirmation I’ll ever get from a pair of lawyers, huh?” She smirks at us. “Would it be going too far to take credit for this one? Admit it, it was all the rubbing it in, wasn’t it.”

Not gonna lie, I’m enjoying the neon shade of red that Chloe’s turning. I sling an arm around her shoulder and tug her against my side, in what I hope looks to most of the courtroom like a congratulatory embrace. Though, if I’m honest, I don’t really care what they all think. They’ll find out eventually anyway, if my gut feeling about this is right. And I have a pretty good instinct for being able to tell when something will work out.

“We will forever be indebted to your workout videos,” I tell Suzie, straight-faced. You’d be surprised how flexible they’ve made us.”

Suzie’s grin widens. “Well. Congratulations on waking up and smelling the pheromones, kids.”

Chloe elbows me accidentally-on-purpose as she reaches out to shake Suzie’s hand. “Congratulations to you, too, Ms. Steel. What do you plan on doing now?”

“Me? Oh, I’ve always got something up my sleeve, don’t you worry. Heck, maybe I’ll branch out of the fitness bizz and into the self-help sector.” She winks. “I’m getting pretty good at matchmaking.”

Only when Suzie strides away from us, across the room to thank her loyal rubbers who turned out to speak on her behalf, do I realize that I still have my arm slung around Chloe’s shoulders. It feels so natural to touch her, I hardly notice.

Reluctantly, I pull my arm away, back to my side. As I do, Chloe’s eyes flash toward mine. She’s smiling, too, brighter than I’ve ever seen her smile.

“What about us?” I ask her in a low tone. “What do you think is over the horizon for us, MacIntyre?”

She casts an eye around the courtroom before she answers, taking her time. “Well. I’d say if the way this case went is any indication, you and I make quite the team, Max Davis.” Her smile turns mischievous. “Assuming, of course, that you’re up to the task of courting me.”

I take a slow step toward her, the air between us alive with tension. We can’t touch, not here, but our eyes on one another are enough of a promise of what’s to come that I can stand the separation. For now. “Hmm, well, it may be a difficult case,” I answer slowly, then grin when she swats my arm and huffs. “But you know what they say. Every new case is an opportunity in disguise.” I lean in, just inches away from her, and breathe my next words so low that no one else in the room can hear. “But you, my beautiful girl, will always be worth fighting for.”

“
I
s that the last one
?” I call up the steps as the movers brush past me with another armful of boxes.

Max sticks his head into the stairwell, hair mussed, forehead damp with sweat. “Not yet.” He jogs down the steps toward me. His T-shirt is sticking to his chest and his abs, which affords me quite the view from where I’m waiting at the bottom of the steps, hands on my hips. I let my eyes graze over him as he heads my way, and not for the first time in the last 6 months of my life do I marvel at the fact that I get to call this sex god mine.

The sex god, however, sure does come with his share of baggage.

“I think there’s another six boxes in the truck, and then the stuff I stuck in the car last night.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes, though I’m grinning at the same time. “Seriously, dude, how do you even own this many things?”

“It’s 90% books,” he protests. “I have a lot of reading to keep up with.”

“When was the last time you actually read any of those books?” I laugh.

He wraps his arms around my waist in response, and tugs me against him, sweat and all. God, he smells great when he’s been working out. He calls me weird for saying so, but I can’t resist him in moments like this, or when he’s fresh home from a long run around the neighborhood of our new home, half an hour outside the city, a cozy little two-bedroom that even has its own backyard. I’d forgotten what that was like.

I’d forgotten what having anything besides a day job felt like.

Max dips his head to kiss me, long and slow. I taste salt on his lips, mingled with that pure essence of
him
that drives me so wild. I slide my arms around his neck, my hands tracing their way up to get lost in his mussed black hair, which he’s let grow a little bit now, almost down to his ears. It looks sexy on him. Not business proper the way he dresses at the office. More like
I’m in charge, and I’m going to take advantage of you right now
.

His tongue slips between my lips, and for a moment, I lose track of time. That is, until another mover stomps past us, more of Max’s books in his arms. This is the last load of things from his old apartment. Most of his day-to-day stuff was in the house already, but since his lease Displaying off limits new cover.jpgdidn’t end until now, we waited to haul the remainder of his possessions over. I’m slightly regretting our stalling now that I’ve realized how many stacks of books he had hidden around his place, though.

I lean back a little, biting his lower lip just before I break away from the kiss entirely.

“You know, no amount of kissing is going to make me forget to tease you about how many copies of
Lord of the Rings
you own,” I point out.

“Probably not,” he agrees. “But it might make you forget to get annoyed about the new bookshelf I bought for the dining room and besides, I saw that copy of
Man Candy
on your nightstand, babe,” he says teasing me about my own guilty pleasure.

“Oh, brother,” I treat him to the eye roll he’s got coming. ”Where are we going to—”

"Relax, it's a small one this time! Last one, I promise." He extends a pinky to me, and I lean in to bite it in response.

"I get to eat your pinky if you're lying," I mutter.

"Well, you do know how I enjoy it when you eat me," he replies, winking.

I roll my eyes and shove him, though not hard enough to actually push him out of reach. I enjoy feeling his arms around me too much, damn him. “Do I?” I peer up at him. “Or do I just enjoy the view while I do?” I wink.

"I knew it." He stands straight, shaking his head with a morose expression. "You're only using me for my looks."

I snort and swat his chest lightly. "I've got bad news for you buddy, you aren't getting away that easily. I'm in this for the long haul. Even when you're old and gray and fat from eating too many In-N-Out burgers—”

"First of all, there is no such thing as too many In-N-Out burgers," he corrects me with an arched brow. "And second of all. Good." He bends to kiss me again, gently this time. "Because you're stuck with me, too, gorgeous girl. I hope you know what you've signed up for."

"I always read my contracts before I sign," I remind him, leaning up on tiptoe to kiss him back. "And this one? I've got to say I am more than happy with the terms."

I rest my head on his chest, my gaze traveling out front to the sprawling lawn outside, and in the distance, the little copse of trees that I think reminded us both of the mushroom forest, when we found this apartment. Standing there, on the brink of starting our future together, nestled in this house, I can't think of anyone whose stacks of boxes I'd rather share, or anyone in the world whose arms I'd rather be in.

"One more thing," he adds, a mischievous note in his tone.

"There's not another load of boxes, is there?" I reply with a raised eyebrow in warning.

He smirks. "On my honor, Your Honor."

I laugh, my cheeks flushing a little as one of the movers passes us at that moment. Good thing Max likes it when I blush. "What is it?"

"I filed my change of address form with HR today."

My throat tenses up. It's been an unspoken not-so-secret at work that we're together. Neither of us said anything, but neither of us didn't say anything, either. Not even when Martha "popped by" my office to interrogate me about who I'm dating now, since I "look so happy and full of life all the time lately." And not even when Hannah stopped touching Max's arm all the time and started making subtly annoyed comments to the other secretaries about my man-thieving ways.

The only time I came close to saying something was when Paul summoned me to his office about two months ago, fully recovered and back to work, albeit with greatly reduced office hours.

"You and that Davis kid get along pretty well, huh?" he said, the question evident in his eyes, though at least unlike everyone else, he didn't try to ask me point-blank.

"We do," I admitted, trying to study his expression, to glean some idea of whether or not he approved.

I didn't need to study him too closely. Paul's expression broke into a broad grin. "I met my wife at the office, you know. Total cliché. Boss falls for his doting secretary. But we made a great team, before I let it all fall to shit by not putting her first enough, not being there for her." Paul's eyes narrowed, then. "If he ever stops putting you first, believe me, he will rue the day."

I laughed softly. "You know? I’m not even worried about that, honestly.”

Paul’s smile deepened. "That's when you know it’s the real deal, kid. So don't you two worry your heads about any of the particulars here. Concentrate on what's most important, Chloe. Don't lose sight of that."

It was the closest thing to a blessing we were going to get, I knew, and it was plenty for me. "I won't," I promise him.

"What did they say?" I ask, and it feels a bit ridiculous, two grown people needing to ask a third party for permission to fall in love, but it's the way of the world nowadays, I guess.

Max just laughs softly. "They said, and I'm quoting here, 'About damn time, you two.'"

I laugh too, and this time when he pulls me into his arms, I relax against him completely, sighing with content. "Well then. I guess it's official now."

"I guess so." He bends to nibble on my ear, and that rain of shivers he always manages to induce trickle down my spine. "Team MacDav for life."

I punch him this time. "Oh my God you are so damn cheesy."

“Told you so."

"This is your idea of a romantic line?"

He bites my ear again a little harder. "Well, I could say I love you but you're probably sick of hearing that one."

I roll my eyes, even as I bury my hand in his hair. "Never."

"Well then. I love you, Chloe."

"I love you too, babe.”

"And we're changing the name of the house to MacDav, by the way. I've already filed the paperwork."

I wriggle out of his arms and glare at him. "Motion to appeal."

"Denied."

"On what grounds?" I cross my arms.

"On the grounds that I say so." He loops an arm around my waist and pulls me against him in one smooth motion. As our bodies crush together, his heat spilling around me, he leans down to claim my lips once more, kissing me long and hard.

"Fine,” I reply when we part. “On one condition.”

He lifts an eyebrow. "What's that?"

I grin. "Tonight it's my turn to be the judge."

* * *

* * *

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