Love Proof (Laws of Attraction)

Thirty-four

The flight to Portland left at 5:40 Sunday night. It was later than Sarah liked to fly, since it meant she would have to find dinner in the airport, but it was one of the few nonstops, and she was tired of changing planes. Joe’s office had made the same reservation. She knew she’d be seeing him at the airport.

It was strange, she thought, knowing this would be their last trip together. When he left her apartment that morning, he promised to start working right away on finding his replacement. Sarah wanted him out of that firm as soon as possible. She could feel the hot breath of Fitzgerald and the U.S. Attorney’s office on her neck, even if Joe didn’t seem as concerned as she did.

It was only because he hadn’t been through it yet, she thought. If he had been there April 6, he would have seen the panic, the misery, the chaos and confusion as the feds raided her firm. He would have wished as ardently as she had that someone had whispered in her ear, “Hey, you might want to quit by April 5. Just a suggestion.”

She finished going through airport security, then searched for something decent to eat. She settled for her old standby, a rice and vegetable bowl from the Chinese fast food place. It didn’t look nearly as appetizing as the one Angie had been eating the day before—probably because Angie made it herself.

Sarah looked forward to the time when she would be home long enough to cook for herself again: winter soups like gumbo and corn chowder; pastas with zucchini or asparagus tossed in olive oil and garlic; Mexican and Indian dishes; fresh baked bread.

But to be home that long meant Joe’s firm would have to implode first, and she was in no hurry for that.

She settled into the gate area with a view of the approaching passengers. Marcela wasn’t there yet, she noticed, so either the court reporter was running late or had taken another flight.

Then finally Sarah was rewarded with a long-range view of her lover. Wearing jeans and a sweater, carrying the raincoat he had needed outside in the cold drizzle, smiling as soon as he caught sight of her. Sarah returned the smile. Even after only a few hours apart, she missed him.

He took the seat next to hers and leaned over to whisper. “Are you wearing anything under that?”

She had on a pair of jersey pants similar to the ones he stripped off her the night before. On top she wore a comfortable knit shirt under a soft jersey hoodie.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said.

“It’s all right,” Joe said. “Shouldn’t slow me down too much. I can probably find us a place if you want to spare five minutes.”

Her skin warmed at the suggestion. She had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Sorry, Burke, we’re back on duty. Did you find your replacement?”

“His name’s Felix,” Joe said, shifting back to professional mode just like she had. “I think he’ll do all right. It was hard to find someone on such short notice. He’ll take over on Wednesday.”

“Did you hand in your resignation?”

“Not yet. I’ll do that on Wednesday, too.”

“Joe . . . ”

“It’s not fair to the clients,” he said. “We already have depositions scheduled. I want to make sure they’re covered before I leave.”

She understood his reason, and couldn’t object to it. Even though she hated to think of even two more days going by before he was free of the firm. A lot could happen in two days. She’d seen for herself how quickly a firm could go from viable and working, to crumbling and in disarray once the feds showed up at the door.

“Felix is pretty new,” Joe said, “so take it easy on him.”

“No promises,” Sarah said.

But the truth was, she doubted she would spend very much time with Joe’s replacement. She agreed with Calvin’s assessment of what would happen once the indictments hit the news: the firm’s clients would scramble to find new lawyers. There would be chaos for a few months while everyone sorted themselves out. And meanwhile Sarah and her team would be working at full speed to make sure Mason Manufacturing was dismissed from the case.

“I need to grab some dinner,” Joe said. “I’ll be right back.” He leaned over once again to whisper, “I want my hands on you, Henley. As soon as possible. Do you think that can be arranged?”

“Fairly certain,” she answered, once again trying to keep her face completely neutral. For her sake and for Joe’s. They didn’t need to work each other up right before a two-and-a-half hour flight. There would be time enough after that.

Just two more nights with him, Sarah thought, then she’d have to wait again until the weekend. She almost wished she had taken better advantage of all their weeks together.

But things had turned out the way they had for a reason, she remembered. Joe had only been waiting to win her back before quitting the case. So if he had convinced her sooner, he would have left sooner. What she should really be wishing, she thought, was that she hadn’t been so stubborn, just like he said. If she’d softened a little earlier, bent a little instead of so rigidly clutching on to her anger, she could have bought him a larger window of time in which to maneuver.

But whatever happened now, they would just have to deal with it—together. I’m with you, Joe. She meant that.

What that meant for their future at large, she couldn’t say. But she did know that for now, at least, she had tied herself to his fate.

She thought about how different she would have felt back in April if she’d had someone like Joe on her side. Someone to come home to that day, to pour out her heart to, to reassure her, to hold her. She knew Joe’s situation wouldn’t be that dramatic—he already knew what was coming, he just didn’t know when—but still, she was happy she could offer him the kind of support she wished she’d had herself.

She had no idea what his finances were. She had been caught in the middle of an upward climb, at a time when she’d been spending money—including sending some to her parents every month—instead of saving. If Joe had this much warning, maybe he had been able to set some aside. Or maybe he wouldn’t have to wait as long as she did before finding another job. The fact that he’d already been offered one was excellent news. Maybe the whole situation would be much easier for him.

Although she still wished he hadn’t turned the job down, whatever it was. Just one more consequence of her staying hostile to him for so long.

She could drive herself crazy with what-ifs.

“Where are you sitting?” Joe asked her when he returned. He bought a deli sandwich and a bag of chips he opened up and propped between their seats for her to share.

“Eleven-F. You?”

“Nineteen-B. Maybe we can find someone to switch.”

“No,” Sarah said, “just in case.” She glanced around the boarding area. She still didn’t see Marcela, but she wanted to be careful. They weren’t completely free yet.

“Are you checking into your hotel tonight?” Joe asked.

She had thought about that. In a way, she was wasting client money by checking into a hotel for whatever short period she’d be there, knowing she would spend the night with Joe.

“Maybe not,” she said. “I’m not sure yet.”

He turned and gave her a look. “I don’t want to act like you’re a sure thing, since I know how much you hate that, but . . . come on, Sarah.” The smile he gave her was far too seductive. Then she watched his eyes shift to her mouth.

She wanted the same thing: to drag his mouth to hers, to feel his hands underneath her shirt, grasping her bare breasts, to climb on top of him, right there in the metal seats of the boarding area so the two of them could take their five minutes of tease.

She forced herself to look away. Her breathing felt rapid and shallow. She laughed in a husky, self-conscious way, knowing how easy it must have been for Joe to read her mind just then.

“Later?” he asked.

“Later,” she promised. And then she intended to make all the waiting worth it.

***

She’d reserved a rental car, but it didn’t make much sense to pick it up. Just another unnecessary expense, she told herself, since Joe was renting a car anyway, and she could ride with him to his hotel. Then take a cab back in the morning before the deposition, and another cab to the airport that afternoon.

She waited while he filled out the paperwork. It reminded her of the beginning of their whole relationship, back in the rental car area of the small Illinois airport. How she stood off to the side while that bossy third-year completed the transaction. How she had been so cold, and Joe noticed. The way he silently brought her hands into his pocket and held them there. The way his touch had felt, even then: right. Natural. And nearly irresistible.

“Ready?”

Sarah nodded. Joe laid his hand against the small of her back as the two of them walked toward the doors outside.

They walked all the way to the garage, down the rows to where his car was, loaded their luggage into the trunk, then waited until they were safely in their seats.

Then as if someone had shot a starter’s pistol, they were immediately at each other, lips parting, hands reaching, bodies stealing just a few minutes of release after too long in such careful close contact.

Sarah pulled her mouth away, panting. “The sooner you get there—”

Joe started the car. Sarah buckled in and closed her eyes.

God, she needed this man. How had she ever thought she could do without him? No one—no one—had ever excited her more, understood her better, or, she freely reminded herself, loved her the way Joe had. And she had never loved anyone else. No one before him, no one after. It was Joe for her, or no one.

She almost said it. Almost told him. But it was her one remaining gift. If she just threw it out to him now, what value did it have? He’d said it to her in a way that mattered: “Have I done enough to convince you that I still love you and I wish I’d never let you go?” Words she would never forget. Just like the simpler words of a younger Joe telling her, “I love you like crazy, Sarah.”

Words mattered. Context mattered. She would wait for the right time.

For now, she reached across the seat and squeezed his hand. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles.

“No,” she said, laughing at the instant heat and moisture his gesture had brought on. She reluctantly pulled her hand away. “Just get me to the hotel. Then we’ll take care of all of this.”

***

“No belt,” Sarah murmured appreciatively as she began stripping Joe of his jeans.

He was right: her undergarments barely slowed him down. He unhooked her bra and divested her of her panties before his own clothes hit the floor.

This time, instead of carrying her to the bed, he took a detour toward the bathroom.

He set her on the floor and turned on the hot water.

“No, my hair—”

He had a three-word response to that, ending in your hair, then he pulled her naked into the shower.

They were both so different now, Sarah thought. She continued to marvel at that. How much broader and more muscular he’d gotten, how much tighter and stronger she had. It was a pleasure, just in a pure aesthetic sense, to run her hands over his body, to feel what it was like pressing herself against him now, to know that they were both older and better versions of what they had been the last time they were in love.

Joe soaped up his hands and went to work. Sarah let him. She braced her hands against the tile walls and let him touch her however he liked. She would take her own turn with him later, she knew, but for now she had absolutely no problem with Joe exploring her first.

He slicked his hands slowly over her breasts. She leaned back against him, feeling the hardness, savoring it, knowing how it would feel inside her, in no hurry to get there. She was tired of rushing with this man. She wanted long hours with him, the languorous kind of sex they had experienced the past two nights in the privacy of their own apartments. No more furtive lovemaking on the run. She was tired of hiding. She couldn’t wait for him to be free of the case so they could be together in the open.

Her carefully styled hair was already in uncontrollable coils, but she didn’t care. He had seen her that way plenty of times when they were younger. What she cared about were his hands, now venturing lower, coaxing her thighs apart, one strong arm bracing her against him while the fingers on his other hand did their delicate work.

Sarah sighed with the force of a body finally letting go: letting go of the tension, the anger, the resentment, the fears that held her back. She thought she had already given it all away, but here was the last of it, the marrow of it, working its way up to the surface and washing away in the steam. If she was with him, she was with him all the way now. He could have her in every configuration: her body, her desire, her passion, her heart, her mind, her love.

She turned to him, and if it wasn’t the right time, not important or special enough, then she couldn’t help it: it had to be said.

“I love you, Joe. I’ve always loved you.”

He covered her mouth with his and pulled her tightly against him. Then he shut off the water, lifted her from the shower, and set her dripping on the floor. They dried each other as hurriedly as they could in between kissing and caressing, and then Sarah knew there would be no slowness this time, no long, languid build-up, because it had to be now, they needed each other too much, and Joe barely got her to the bed before sheathing himself and entering her in almost the same motion.

She lay wet and loose against the sheets, her legs wrapped around him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed her deep and long, her body absorbing every thrust of his hips, wanting this part to go on and on, because it was the best expression she could think of for how close she felt to him now, how much she needed him, how much she trusted and loved him and wanted him to feel the same from her, how she was with him now, and would be, how much better it could be now that they knew what they’d had and knew too well what they had lost.

Sarah could feel the power mounting, the force of her desire pushing its way to the surface, the release that her body craved even if her heart never wanted this part to end.

She exploded with a cry, her hips bucking against him, her back arching, her fingers digging into his shoulders as Joe drove into her harder now, more urgently, and then he was with her, too, shuddering with the release, his face and body slick with sweat, his mouth still hungry for hers.

Sarah held him against her for a long time, captive in the double bind of her arms and legs. Then finally the two of them realized she couldn’t breathe with his full weight on her, and she let him shift to the side.

She heard him say something, but the curtain was already lowering in her brain, and she was almost asleep. Joe pulled the covers over both of them and that was the last she remembered before his watch alarm woke them in the morning.

Joe kissed her awake and told her that he loved her.

“I love you, too,” she said.

Such a sweet beginning, Sarah thought later, to one of the hardest days of her life.