Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I can go,” Dr. Cornwell says at the morning meeting.
“If you don’t quit coddling me, I’m going to lose it.” It’s too late. I can’t walk back those words. Lose it like Winston Jeffries? I sigh. “I did fine yesterday.”
Not counting the breakdown by the vending machine.
“It was my case. I wrote the report. I can testify in court. I’m fine. Really.”
He slides his reading glasses up his nose. “Very well then. Off you go.” He gives me a shooing motion with his hand.
After I get to the courthouse, wait forever to get through security, use the restroom, and make my way toward the courtroom, I run into Dylan Paine.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” she says, applying lip gloss before going into the courtroom.
“I’m testifying.”
“I know.” She pauses her motions and gives her lips a light tap together. “I’m just surprised.”
“Why? Because you don’t think I’m a real doctor?”
Dylan grins. “I’ve never said that. I just think you’re young, not as experienced as Dr. Cornwell.”
“Funny … I have a long list of people who I think are more experienced than you, but I don’t feel the need to remind you.”
She draws her head back a few inches. I’m a little punchy today. Just as she starts to speak, the elevator dings, and the doors open.
Dylan smiles, and I glance over my shoulder at Colten. Chicago’s too big, and so is this courthouse to find myself stuck in this same threesome again. It has to be part of my atonement.
“Detective Mosely. It’s always nice to see you.” Dylan bats her fake eyelashes.
Maybe she and her husband have an open marriage, but I doubt it. I think she’s nothing more than a disingenuous whore.
Wow, Josie … who are you?
Colten gives her a tiny smile and walks toward me, stopping with a good three feet between us. “Morning,” he says.
Just as Dylan opens her mouth to speak, I take two steps closer to him. Way closer than colleagues or even friends would stand. Through the corner of my eye, I see her mouth clamp shut, choking on her unspoken words. I couldn’t care less about her. She needs to get her ass into the courtroom and start making her case before the DA puts me on the stand to obliterate every shred of evidence she thinks she has to exonerate her client.
“You look…” the corner of Colten’s mouth curls a fraction “…pretty today.”
My grin doesn’t hold back, especially when Dylan makes a tiny huffing noise and clicks her heels into the courtroom. “Do you remember the first time you called me pretty?”
Colten presses his lips together for a few seconds. “That’s a hard one because I thought it so many times. When did I get the nerve to say it?”
“The first time you saw me trying on fly fishing waders in the garage. You weren’t saying it as a compliment.”
His barely detectable smirk morphs into a full-on shit-eating grin. “Yes, I was absolutely complimenting you. I hid most of my compliments behind sarcasm because it was the only way I could say them to you without you making fun of me.”
I roll my eyes. “So your game was to make fun of me before I made fun of you?”
“My game was to give you the illusion that I was making fun of you, when in reality, I was a lovesick boy.”
I wet my lips because they are not glossed like Dylan’s—and because I want Colten to kiss me.
“I’m still that same lovesick boy,” he whispers before answering my silent request with a soft kiss.
I grin against his lips. “When are we going to talk about you breaking into my house?”
He stands erect. “Says the woman who broke into mine last night.”
“I used the key,” I cup my hands at my mouth and whisper yell, “under your planter.”
“Well, I used the key on my keychain.” He pulls his keys out of his pocket and shows me a key, presumably my house key.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your dad made me a copy shortly after the shooting.”
“My dad has a key to my house?”
“So it would seem.” He pockets his keys.
“And he’s making copies and giving them out to … just anyone?”
“Just anyone? Is that my new rank?”
I start to return a snarky reply, but it dies on my tongue. I’m all out of snark this morning. “Listen, last night—”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to be another burden in that mind of yours. I’m not a problem you need to figure out and solve. I’m not giving up on you or on us. Nor am I pushing you for anything you’re not ready to give.”
“What if I’m never ready?”
He shrugs. “Maybe lovesick boy is my destiny.”
Ouch …
“Destiny can suck.”
“Tell me about it.” He winks before bending forward and pressing his lips next to my ear.