Page 68 of Impressing Brett

I slide to the edge of the bed and tip her chin back. “I’d happily feed you every morsel for the rest of your life.”

“It tastes better when you feed me,” she murmurs.

I stand and pull her into my arms, my hand threading in her hair while I kiss the top of her head. My chest is tight. Full. I’ve never been in love before. It’s an amazing and scary, vulnerable feeling.

Chapter 20

Lacy

* * *

Inside, I’m a disaster. Outside, I’m hell on wheels. I’m glad Brett brought me a professional outfit because, after we showered, I felt like I wanted to walk into this office in heels, fit to do business.

“Ready?” he whispers.

We’re outside the door of my father’s law office. It still says Harlow and Rutherford on it. I know both the Rutherfords are inside because three men have been surveilling this building all morning. I also know no one else is inside.

But more importantly, I know the police are in the stairwell. Four of them. They looked like a SWAT team when I saw them as we passed them.

I’m wired. Brett is wired. It’s showtime.

I nod, reach for the handle, and open the door. No one is in the reception area when we step inside, but I hear a small chime that indicates someone in the office is being notified of our arrival.

A voice from somewhere in the offices shouts, “Be right out.” It’s the older Maximillian.

I shudder at the sound of his voice. Never did like it. He even sounds like the kind of lawyer who does shady business. I wonder if his beer gut will be larger than the last time I saw him ten years ago.

I keep my gaze on the entrance to the hallway, well aware of Brett by my side. He isn’t directly touching me, but his elbow brushes against mine. Even through my blouse and his dress shirt, I can feel the warmth. It’s a connection. It grounds me.

“What can I do for you?” comes the voice right before Maximillian II steps around the corner.

I stare at him, waiting for recognition. It doesn’t take long. His eyes widen in shock for a moment before he smiles. “Lacy. How are you? I wasn’t expecting you today. Why didn’t you call? I could’ve sent Max to pick you up from the airport.” He glances at Brett with a poorly contained snarl.

“It wasn’t necessary. I have a car,” I tell him.

“Come on in.” He swings a hand out, motioning toward the hallway before narrowing his gaze at Brett. “You can wait out here.”

“Not gonna happen,” Brett informs him.

I stand tall. “I’m only here to see the will. I assume the will stipulates that I must be present to read it. You can bring it out front.”

Maximillian swallows. “Now, I never said that.” He glances at Brett, probably wondering what Brett does for a living. Surely his PI told him. But maybe Max only paid for the photos and no information. He’s a cheap bastard up to his eyeballs in debt. He might not have asked his PI to do more than obtain blackmail pics.

Suddenly, Max III steps into view. “Oh, Lacy. About time you showed up. It’s been weeks. What kind of daughter doesn’t even come to her father’s funeral?”

His father elbows him and shoots him a look before addressing me again. “We can go over the specifics in my office. You won’t need a bodyguard.”

“Mr. Rutherford,” I say in a formal voice. “I’m not coming any farther into this office. Either bring the will out here, or I will have my lawyer meet us here.”

“That won’t be necessary, Lacy. Good grief. Your father was my closest friend. I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive.”

I’m pretty sure it started when I was about fourteen, and my father’s “friend” and partner grabbed my boobs one day. He chuckled and said, “Your titties are finally coming in.”

I shudder at the memory. I wanted to slap him across the face right then. I would have run to my father, but he was in the room at the time. He simply snickered and told Maximillian to “leave the girl alone.”

At this point, Blade is confident Maximillian had my father murdered, so what kind of friend was he really?

“Do I need to call my lawyer?” I ask.

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