Love Proof (Laws of Attraction)

Twenty-four

“Sarah.”

“Mmm.”

“We have to get up.”

She snuggled deeper into the cradle of his arms as he spooned her from behind.

“Sarah.” He kissed her shoulder. “We really have to get up.”

She heard the alarm, too, and knew he was right. They had to be at the airport by six-thirty, and she still needed time to return to her hotel, shower and change, pack, and turn in the rental car.

But it seemed impossible in that moment to leave the comfort of his body.

Joe kissed her one more time, then let her go and climbed out of bed. She watched while he crossed the room to the coffee maker and began brewing a cup.

She studied his naked form from behind. “I like the way you look now. I like touching all those muscles. I like the way you feel against me.”

“Sarah, if you say anything more, I’m never going to be able to leave this hotel room.”

He turned just enough for her to see his growing erection. She smiled and rolled onto her back to gaze at the ceiling.

“Here,” he said a moment later, handing her the first cup of coffee. He stared at her the way she had been staring at him, taking in all the contours of her body, the slopes and angles, the various changes since they’d last been together.

Sarah liked the attention. It had been a long time since she let someone look at her. She liked the visible effect it was having on Burke.

But he was right, they had to get to work.

“I don’t do coffee anymore,” she said, “but if you have tea, I’ll take it.”

Although considering how little sleep she’d gotten, a cup of strong black coffee sounded like a much wiser choice.

She forced herself from the bed and retrieved her pajamas from the area just inside Joe’s door. “Can I borrow this?” she asked, holding up his hoodie. “Just for the ride back.”

Joe’s eyes raked her naked body again. He groaned and disappeared into the bathroom.

Sarah took that as a yes.

She dressed, then brought a cup of tea with her back to Joe’s bed to wait. She propped a pillow behind her and pulled the covers up over her legs and spent the next several minutes replaying scenes from the night before. He was a better lover now, in so many ways. More patient, more inventive, more . . . skilled.

She forced herself not to think of how many women he had been with since her who would have given him that practice. She already knew she couldn’t trust him. She would never make that mistake again.

But it didn’t mean she had to deny herself the pleasure of a purely physical relationship with him. It was no different from eating right and working out: her body wanted certain things now, and it was up to her to provide them.

And to be smart about it this time.

Joe emerged from the bathroom and picked up his own clothes from the heap by the door. He was dressed within a minute, then asked, “Ready?”

“What do you think?” Sarah asked, hugging her knees to her chest and looking him straight in the eye. “Was this the only time?”

“I sure as hell hope not, but we’ll see. Come on, Red, I have to take you back.”

***

She had now been in the Salt Lake City airport far more times than she ever dreamed she would. And she would be back there the next day and the one after that, since it was the hub for all their Montana and Idaho flights. She thought about driving between some of her destinations, but even with all the hassle of trying to bounce from one regional airport to another, it was still faster than traveling by car. And at least she could work in the airport and on the planes, so she accepted the itinerary as planned.

“How are you holding up, Henley?” Joe asked as he appeared at her side rolling his carry-on down the concourse. He seemed absorbed by what he was reading on his phone, and Sarah doubted that anyone watching them would guess they were speaking to each other.

“Exhausted,” she said. “I need more than two hours of sleep.”

“We should try to get to bed earlier tonight,” he said, still not looking at her. Sarah’s body flushed in response. She could feel the moisture building from just that one simple statement. The idea of being back in bed with Joe as soon as possible made her want to turn around and return to his hotel, and skip the flight altogether.

“I’ll think about it,” Sarah said, hoping to sound less affected by him than she was.

They walked in silence until Sarah could see their gate just up ahead. Then Joe asked, “What’s your phone number?”

Sarah hesitated, but then gave him the numbers to input into his phone. She could see Marcela to their right, curled up on one of the chairs, snoozing against her wadded up coat.

“See you later,” Joe said. Then he lengthened his stride and let her walk the rest of the way alone.

Sarah spied someone drinking from Starbucks cup, and it was one too many temptations for her to try to resist that morning. She reversed course to where she knew she passed one of the kiosks, and stood in line already savoring how that first sip would taste. Angie had been right advising her to overhaul her diet last year—Sarah felt so much better just a week into the experiment—but these were extraordinary times, she told herself, and she was only human.

She returned to the gate area, cup in hand, and stole another look at Joe. He sat looking so serious and adult in his gray suit, dress shirt, and tie. She watched him as he typed into his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, whether he sensed her there or just happened to look up at that moment, the two of them locked eyes ever so briefly before Sarah continued on and sat in a different section.

She hated those moments in movies when the characters exchanged secret glances that anyone in the vicinity with half a brain would have noticed. It made her look around for Paul Chapman, wondering what he would make of that one weak moment.

She found him splayed out on a chair, legs wide, head thrown back as he snored. She glanced at Marcela again, too, knowing the court reporter would be more attuned to seeing something pass between Sarah and Joe.

But Marcela still slept, and so Sarah felt safe looking at him again, just for a minute. She took a sip of dark coffee and secretly studied his handsome face.

God, she wanted him. Wanted to hold that face in her hands and kiss that mouth, wanted to feel his hands on her, his skin against hers, the weight of his body, the pleasure of him inside her. Her nerves still buzzed from everything he had already done to her and from the promise there might be more. Was it so wrong to want this time together, here in the purgatory of their lives?

But it wasn’t just their history together that warned her of all the risks involved. This wasn’t just about her and Joe.

There were still a few minutes before the gate agent would begin calling rows. Sarah fed a search into her phone.

California rules of ethics, conflict of interest.

It took her a moment of scrolling through the list to find the rule she was looking for.

Rule 3-320 Relationship With Other Party’s Lawyer

A member of the Bar shall not represent a client in a matter in which another party’s lawyer is a spouse, parent, child, or sibling of the member, lives with the member, is a client of the member, or has an intimate personal relationship with the member, unless the member informs the client in writing of the relationship.

There was no denying, Sarah thought, that she now had an intimate personal relationship with the member. In her sleep-deprived state, she almost snickered at the reference to “member.” But she knew this wasn’t funny. She had crossed a line the night before—they both had. And it wasn’t in Sarah’s nature to violate the rules.

It was why she hated any suggestion that she had been involved in any way with the illegal activities of her old firm. Sarah’s reputation was squeaky clean before, and she intended for it to be again, once the taint of April 6 finally washed away.

A text popped onto her screen.

I missed you.

Sarah closed her eyes. Joe had no intention of making this easy for her. She should have known that from the moment he pulled up in front of Walmart the week before. Should have known it for certain from the mischievous, wicked look he gave her in the checkout line. Or from the soft kiss he planted on her lips while she recovered in the mountain clinic. Or from the way he took care of her when no one else would.

He had been working on her for longer than just last night, Sarah knew, longer than just their time at dinner as he stroked her thigh beneath the table.

He wanted this as much as she did.

Which didn’t make it any less complicated, or any less unethical.

Sarah shut off her phone without texting him back.