Page 107 of Dial L for Lawyer
"To that too," he agrees, and we clink glasses.
For a few minutes, I just sip wine and watch him. There's something different about us now. Less storm, more steady. For once, I don't feel like I'm standing on a trapdoor waiting for it to open.
He finishes his glass and sets it aside, then pulls me in for a slow kiss that tastes like heat and home and everything I never let myself want. His hands settle on my hips, and I can feel the questions he isn’t asking—do you believe it yet? Do you feel safe?
I break the kiss and rest my head on his chest. "Do you think the board will really clear me?"
"I know they will," he says with total confidence. "What we have on Maya is rock-solid. By noon Monday, you'll be the hero and she'll be toxic waste."
After everything I've been through lately, it's hard to believe.
“Have you thought about what happens after Monday? When you get your life back?"
"I don't know." I look up at him. "I don't think I can go back to who I was before. Too much has changed."
"Changed how?"
"Well... I met this guy a while ago. Some lawyer. And I instantly took a dislike to him. Or tried to convince myself I did, anyway."
"Is that so?" His voice drops to that tone that always makes my knees weak. "Was he devastatingly handsome?"
"He was devastatingly arrogant," I say, and he laughs, pulling me closer.
"You hated me."
"I pretended to."
"You did a good job," he says, quieter now, with something more in his voice. "Pretending. You almost had me convinced."
"Not good enough." I smile against his shirt. "You always saw through me. It was infuriating."
His arms tighten around me. "You want to know the truth?"
I'm not sure I do, but I nod anyway.
"The night Bennett introduced us at that bar, I wanted you. Not in the casual, one-night way either. It was more like—" He pauses, searching for words. "Like getting struck by lightning. Sudden, inevitable, permanent damage."
"That's very dramatic," I say, though my heart is racing.
"Everything about you is wonderfully dramatic." He kisses my forehead. "You made it impossible not to want you. You still do."
We stand there quietly. I try to picture the woman I was eight months ago—sharper, more defensive, so careful to never let anyone close enough to hurt. The idea that someone could want all of me, not just the polished version... It's still the best and scariest thing I've ever heard.
"For what it's worth," I say, tracing his jaw with one finger, "you never needed lightning to get me. Just had to show up and not be a total asshole."
"That's a pretty high bar, actually," he admits. For once there's no arrogance—just honesty and something vulnerable underneath.
I feel myself soften. If this isn’t love, then it’s the closest I’ve ever come.
"Caleb."
"Yes?"
"I..." I press my lips together, trying to find the words. Instead, I stretch up on my toes and kiss him. It starts gentle but ends with his hands in my hair and my wine glass forgotten on the counter.
He unbuttons my jeans and shoves them down my legs, lifting me onto the island to make it easier to tug them off myfeet. The cold stone is shocking against my thighs, and the sound I make is half-laugh, half-gasp. With the jeans on the floor, he steps between my knees and steals another kiss, less patient this time, nipping my bottom lip until my breath catches.
His hand slides up my thigh, torturously slow. When his fingers find me already wet, he makes a sound that's pure male satisfaction.
