Page 106 of Dial L for Lawyer
"My couch, Caleb. My couch where my daughter eats goldfish crackers and watches Bluey."
"We were just kissing!"
"The intent was clear. That's enough." He picks up his briefcase. "I'm going to check on Michaela, then pour myself a very large scotch to forget what I just witnessed."
He heads down the hall, pauses. "Serena? For what it's worth, I'm really happy you two found each other. Even if you did try to defile my furniture."
"We didn't?—"
"And Caleb?" He cuts me off. "You're buying me a new couch."
"That's ridiculous."
"My house, my rules." He disappears into Michaela's room for a moment, then returns. "She's still out cold. Didn't even stir."
He walks to the door and opens it pointedly. "Thank you for babysitting. Now get out and go ruin your own furniture."
CHAPTER 26
Serena
The ride back to Caleb's is quiet, both of us processing the day. I keep thinking about Michaela's casual acceptance, the way she just folded me into their family like I belonged there.
"That was really nice," I say as we enter his apartment. "Tonight. Michaela. Even David walking in was kind of... domestic."
"Traumatic, you mean." Caleb loosens his tie.
“That too." I kick off my heels with a sigh of relief. "But it was nice. Normal. Like something real people do."
"As opposed to?"
“I don’t know. I just…I never had that—a family who shows care. My mother was an expert in conditional affection, my father in quiet absence. The idea of a family unit that functioned on actual love and not just shared trauma is… foreign."
“Must be. If you think anything about David and me is normal.”
"Well, there’s a lot about your that isn’t normal. But you care about people. I like that.”
He grins. “I think I want to hear about the not normal stuff.”
“Oh, that’s easy. There hasn’t been a lot of normal in my life these past couple of weeks. We have, crazy sex in a billionaire's penthouse, being chased by reporters, hacking into corporate databases from a conference room full of empty takeout containers and four kinds of whiskey—and that’s just the last twenty-four hours."
He grins, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other reaching for me. "I like the crazy sex. But I admit to enjoying the family part too."
I want to say 'me too,' but the words catch in my throat. If I say it, I make it real. And there's still a part of me that needs to be sure—not just for myself, but for the version of me that never expected to get this far, let alone be wanted by someone like him.
He catches me from behind, arms wrapping around my waist, and rests his chin on my shoulder. I tilt my head against his, letting myself relax into him. He smells amazing, clean and warm, with hints of aftershave and something completely male underneath.
"You look like someone who could use a drink," he murmurs into my hair. "Wine?"
I laugh and lean back against him. "Are you trying to get me drunk, Kingsley?"
"Always," he says, pressing a kiss to my temple before moving to the kitchen. He doesn't even glance at the whites, just grabs a bottle of red with a French label and pulls the cork—smooth, confident, like everything he does. The wine's rich smell fills the room before he even pours. He hands me a glass, then leans against the counter, eyes on me, relaxed and open.
"What are we toasting to?" I ask, raising my glass.
He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he runs his thumb over my chin, breaking the moment with a smile. "How about to new chapters?"
I swallow hard. "Or to not being publicly humiliated come Monday?"
