Ties That Bind (4 page)

“Oh, God, in the past.”

Jillian’s expression was sympathetic. “As well you would be. I’m so sorry about those allegations in the paper.”

“I can’t believe it, Jillian. And I’m scared to death all of it’s going to hurt my career. A federal judge can’t afford this kind of scandal.”

Sliding into the booth across from her, Jillian removed her coat, revealing a dynamite red cashmere sweater. “Innocent until proven guilty, girl,” she said, signaling the waiter, ordering a Manhattan and folding her hands on the table. Jillian was the most efficient person she knew. And the most loyal. She would stand by Kate during anything, especially so after she’d contracted breast cancer three years ago and, during the months subsequent to her surgery, Kate had moved into Jill’s house—lock, stock and barrel—to take care of her.

“I certainly hope so.” Kate sipped her apple martini. “I can’t understand how this happened.”

“He didn’t cheat on you with pretty Anna Bingham?”

No need for names. “Not with her. Actually, he contends Malibu Barbie was the only one he cheated with. And then it was because of what I did.”

“Speaking of Malibu Barbies, I saw Dray Merrill today.”

Reese’s young lover. Slender, fragile, nurturing in a way Kate had never been. And a good thirteen years younger. “Where?”

“Starbucks, across the street.”

“Hmm. I think her gym is near here. If I recall, that’s how she met Reese. He worked out there on lunch hours.”

“She was with Tyler.”

“Tyler? My Tyler?” At Jillian’s nod, Kate said, “Why?”

“I marched right over and asked them.”

Kate chuckled. “You would. What did he say?”

“That they’d bumped into each other and stopped to chat.”

“Sounds odd.”

“He was lying.”

“How do you know?”

“Judge’s instinct.”

“Hmm. Circumstantial evidence at best.” Her heart started beating a bit faster. “I can’t believe anything’s going on there. Dray Merrill thinks Reese walks on water.”

“So did you, at one time.”

“He has that effect on women.”

“In any case, Tyler wouldn’t cheat. He’s crazy about you.”

“So why were they together?”

“Observation of their body language tells me they were talking about you and Reese.”

“Really?”

“Maybe they’re worried this case thing will throw you two back together and you’ll realize you’re still in love with each other.”

A huge gaping hole made itself known in Kate’s heart. “You know how I feel about him.” During those long periods after her surgery, when Jillian couldn’t sleep, she and Kate had talked about everything. “I’ve gotten over him, don’t think about him all that much, but he still has some kind of…power over me.” She thought of his cutting words this morning, and how they’d thrown her emotions into a tailspin. “I have some residual feelings for him.”

“Which, as you know, I’ve always thought are returned.”

“I doubt it. Even so, I’ll never let myself in for that kind of pain again. Neither would he, I’d guess.” She thought of her daughter. “Mostly though, we didn’t put Sofie through the horror of a divorce to fool around with something best left alone. “

“I’m worried about your spending this time together.”

“Me, too.” She shrugged. “I’ll just have protect my heart.”

“I’m here if you need to talk.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do about Tyler?”

“Nothing. He’s a big boy, and has his own life.”

“He’d love it if you were jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“Too bad. He’s a great guy.”

“That he is. Now, tell me about the great guy in your life. I have a half hour before I meet Reese.”

“Okay, just be careful. With him.”

“Always am. Now, let’s change the subject before I start to panic.”

Her friend smiled, and Kate counted her blessings that she had people in her life like Jillian and Tyler. She didn’t need Reese Bishop anymore.

o0o

“LIGHT PINK SAUCE on the gnocchi. Peppercorn dressing on the salad. Garlic bread. And chocolate cannoli. At the office. Thanks, George.” Reese hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute. “You’re an idiot,” he said aloud. How could he remember such minute details about his ex-wife?

And it wasn’t just the food. He remembered sensory things—the way her lotion tasted on her skin, the coarse texture of her hair as it wound around his fingers, the sounds she made when he was inside her.

Fucking son of a bitch. He didn’t want to recall any of that.

Rising, he strode to the bathroom off his office and changed into jeans and a sweater. It was almost seven and they’d be working for a while. At the end of the day, he and Kate had always had their fill of being dressed up and put on sweat suits or jeans as soon as they could. Arrgh…what the hell was going on here with all these flashes to the past?

Back at his desk, he pulled out the information he’d had his assistant gather today: a full transcript of the trial they conducted for Bingham, all of the Internet articles on the woman—regarding that trial and subsequent others where they were not her representation—and what was publicly know about her prison history.

But instead of seeing the words before him, Reese thought about casual clothes again, and ordering late night dinners when he and Kate were in law school. One time in particular…

“Food’s here,” he’d remarked one night when the doorbell to his tiny studio in New Haven rang.

Stretched out on her stomach on the floor, wearing a baby pink sweat suit, Kate glanced up at him. “Okay.” She reached for her purse. “My treat.” Since they were so poor and had gone to school on loans and scholarships, money was tight for both of them.

“No, I got it, Katie.”

“No way, then this’ll be like a date.” She scowled. “And don’t call me that.”

He’d smiled, though weakly. They’d been spending all their free time together studying and sometimes discussing their futures; he was able to talk to this girl in a way he couldn’t with other people. They still sparred verbally, but the teasing about being mortal enemies was wearing thin. He liked her and he got turned on by the subtlest of things. He took her money, though. She had an Italian temper and could go off like fireworks when somebody didn’t listen to her.

They ate in the living room; she was seated on the floor, he was on the couch, both up close to the scarred coffee table. For some reason, her mouth drew his attention. He watched her munch on the bread with relish. Stuff down the pasta. Take sips of the cheap wine he had provided. “How come you don’t gain any weight when you eat like a lumberjack?”

“Please, I’m way over my weight limit. I just don’t care about it.”

“I think you look great.”

She must have caught his sincere—and interested—tone. “Thanks.” She eyed his muscular body. “You do, too. Because you work out so hard.” In exercise, like everything else, Reese was driven to be the best.

“I do. Gotta keep up my manly appearance,” he joked.

She studied his unshaven jaw, his shoulders with utter seriousness. “You’re the most manly guy I know.”

“Really? You been hanging out with law students too long.”

He thought he saw vulnerability in her eyes and regretted his taunt. “Maybe.” She wiped her mouth and stood. “I’ll clean up. We still have a lot of studying to do for the test.”

When she came around the table and reached for his plate, he grabbed her hand. “Katie, I—”

Looking down at him, her eyes flared. He’d never touched her before. Her hand was warm, smooth, feminine. She cleared her throat nervously. He knew girls well enough to recognize her nervousness and the source of it. So he tugged.

She tumbled into his lap, and tossed back all those glorious curls. “What are you doing, hotshot?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for weeks.”

Tensing, she sucked in a breath. “This isn’t a good idea.”

He’d rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You can sue me for forcing unwanted attention on you, but I’m going to kiss you, Katie. Right now.”

“They’re not unwanted, Reese,” she whispered softly.

His body went from zero to sixty in seconds. “Katie…” He’d kissed her then. Again and again.

They’d torn each other’s clothes off.

And when he thrust inside her, he knew he’d never get enough of Kaitlyn Renado…

A loud knock jolted him from the memory of the first time they’d made love. Kate stood in the doorway. “Reese? Where were you?”

He shook his head to clear it. “Daydreaming. Come on in.”

She hesitated at the entryway. Dressed in a beautiful peach suit and crisp blouse and heels, she looked every inch the intimidating judge. Yet somehow she looked feminine, too. A hell of a combination.

“What are you staring at?” she asked.

“It’s odd seeing you here again.” Once named Renado and Bishop, now called Bishop Associates, she’d helped design the layout, picked out colors, furniture and equipment along with him. It had been a heady time.

“It’s odd being here.”

“I’ll bet.” He stood. “Not painful, I hope.”

“Nah. I got over you a long time ago.”

Today, her barb felt like a slap in the face. “Ah, I see. Well, come on in. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved. Do you want to order dinner?”

“I already did. It should be here any minute.”

“Good.” She threw her stuff on a chair, slid out of her jacket and kicked off her shoes, then scanned his jeans and shirt. She drew sneakers out of her bag. “I wish I’d brought clothes to change into. I only had my running shoes in the car.”

He watched her. “I have a sweat suit in the closet. Socks. You can borrow them.”

She seemed surprised by his offer.

“Then again, if you want to plow through Italian food and files in a pretty little outfit, go ahead.”

“Sure, I’ll change. Thanks.” He told her where the clothes were and she headed for the bathroom. While she was in there, the food arrived. He set it on the coffee table and snagged some water from the fridge.

When she came out, he had to bite his tongue at the sight of her in his clothes again. All those years ago, after they’d admitted their feelings for each other, they’d moved in together right away, and she often wore his stuff. At that time, neither could afford nice clothes, or enough clothes, really. She looked good in his navy fleece that drooped off her shoulder and had to be rolled up at the sleeves. Tearing his gaze away, he glanced down at the food and said in a voice that was way too hoarse, “I hope you still like this.”

“Oh, God.”

He chuckled. “I take that as a yes.”

“Are you kidding? I love gnocchi.” She dropped down on the floor and dug in. He sat across from her, on the couch. They enjoyed the spicy sauce and gooey potato-based macaroni in silence for a few minutes and he wondered what she was thinking.

When she finally took a breather, she cocked her head at him.

He said, “Just like old times, isn’t it?”

“Not quite,”

He stiffened. “No, of course not. What was I thinking?”

Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “We’re twenty years older and at least fifteen pounds heavier.”

Relaxing at her attempt to tease, he smiled. “You look great.”

“You too. Do you still work out every day?”

“Most days. Do you still run?” She’d been on the track team in college and had passed that love to her daughter.

“As often as I can.”

“Does Sloan run?”

“Yep.”

A subtle tension invaded the air. She rubbed her arms, encased in his sweat suit. “Let’s get to those files.”

“Fine by me.”

They made quick work of cleaning up the food, then tackled the transcript of the trial. It was painstaking work, rereading everybody’s testimony, going over their own notes on the proceedings. Painstaking, with little to show for it.

At midnight, Kate yawned. “I’m fried, Reese. I can’t think clearly anymore.” She glanced over at him. He looked tired, too, though even with the tiny lines around his eyes and mouth more visible now with fatigue, he was sexy. Life just wasn’t fair.

“Me, too. We didn’t make much progress, did we?”

“No, there’s nothing in the transcript that I can see might help us. It’s pretty routine.” She bit her lip. “We’ve got to get to the bottom of this quickly.”

Leaning back onto the sofa, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “You have no idea.”

She frowned. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Maybe he was getting married. Or—Oh, God—Sandra Dee was pregnant.

“I found out today that my name’s been submitted for a judgeship in criminal court.”

“Reese, how wonderful.”

“Is it?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what were you implying?”

He sighed. “Your judgeship drove us apart.”

“No, no, it didn’t.”

“Yes, we couldn’t withstand that competition.”

“We thrived on that competition for years. We loved having the same goals and seeing who could reach them first.”

“I couldn’t…” He drew in a breath, and swore. “Never mind. Let’s table this discussion.” Rising, he crossed to his desk, and checked his calendar. “When can we get together again? We should go over the articles Yolanda got on Bingham, and what she put together on the woman’s subsequent crimes and prison history.”

Glad to let the personal conversation go, Kate reached for her purse, whipped out her PDA and checked it. “Are you free tomorrow? I can make myself available.” She darted a glance at the files on the table. “We could finish up with these.”

He was watching her. “No, I’m not free. I’m going to see Softie.”

Her throat clogged. She’d spoken to her daughter on the phone last night. Sofie hadn’t said a word about Reese’s visit. Nor had she asked Kate to drive up to see her. “Oh.”

“I badgered her into letting me come. She’s got a track meet, and I insisted.”

“I’d love to see her run.”

He waited a beat, then for some godforsaken reason said, “Come with me.”

Sighing, Kate felt like a pitiful mother. She was a pitiful mother, now. “No, Sofie wouldn’t want that.”

“The child doesn’t know what the hell she wants. She runs hot and cold with both of us.”

“Mostly cold with me.”