Page 57 of Scorched

“Yep. If anything weird happens, call me.”

She nodded, and he waved, leaving them alone again.

“Cards sound fun,” Declan mused, turning his attention to her. “Want to play around later?”

“Maybe. I still have to finish going over my notes for tomorrow. That shouldn’t take too long, though. I only have the one case. I just want to make sure I didn’t miss anything. The prosecuting attorney is known for twisting words. I want to be prepared.”

Declan frowned. “I thought Seb cleaned house at the prosecutor’s office when he shut down that child trafficking ring.” Judge Brandt hadn’t been the only public official involved.

“He did, but the attorney I’m up against was clean. He’s just an asshole.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. He’s one of those people who made me want to be a defense attorney. He’ll stop at nothing tomorrow to put Angie in jail.”

“Angie? Tulley? She’s your client?”

Maggie nodded.

“I wish you hadn’t taken that case.”

“Why?” She frowned. “Angie acted in self-defense when her husband beat the shit out of her and one of their kids.”

“Because I know Hank. He’s a mean son of a bitch. With his wife in jail, his attorney could argue it was mutual, but if she walks, her testimony, and their history, could put him away for a long time.”

“I know. Deck, I’m not oblivious to the risks of my job. I take precautions.”

“Take more. He put a kid in the hospital when we were in high school just because the paper he made the kid write got a B instead of an A. Just—have eyes in the back of your head.” He wished he could convince her to turn the case over to someone else, but he knew she never would. He would have to settle for making sure she was as prepared as possible.

“I’ll keep my eyes open, I promise.”

He nodded and ate another bite of steak. They finished their meals and drinks, then Declan paid the check.

“Keys,” he demanded as they walked out of the restaurant.

“It’s half a mile. On a private lane.”

“Don’t care.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Keys.”

She huffed and dug them out of her purse. “Fine.” She slapped them into his palm.

He hit the button to unlock the doors, and they climbed inside. He backed out of the space and turned right out of the lot. At the gate separating the rest of the ranch from public access—a new feature since Tara’s run-in with Jared Fetter and Tim Jacobsen—Declan punched in the code and the metal gate slid back, letting them through, closing behind them.

The drive down the lane took less than a minute. He turned into her driveway and pushed the button on the garage door opener before pulling the car into the garage.

“How’d that feel?” she asked as they got out.

“Not bad.” He handed her the keys so she could unlock the interior door. “A little pain, but not much. I don’t think I’ll have a problem getting cleared to drive again at my appointment on Thursday.”

“Good.” She walked inside the house. “I know you’ve been eager to get your independence back.” She flipped on the lights and dropped her purse on the counter.

“Yeah. Being reliant on others for a ride everywhere sucks. Not that I don’t like having you around, but it’s nice being able to do things for myself.”

“No, I get that.” She glanced around.

Declan felt some awkwardness creep in now that they were alone. The heated glances and words they shared at Alice’s pottery studio filled his head. Her pupils grew large and her cheeks colored. He knew she was thinking about it, too.

Maggie cleared her throat and looked away. “Well, I’m going to go look over my notes one more time, then go to bed. There are extra blankets and pillows in the hall closet. You can either sleep in the living room on the couch, or there’s a bed made up in the spare room.”

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