Page 82 of Defend Me

Heat warms my cheeks, and I turn away from her to hide my smile and check the time. “I should get the dog whisperer out there ready for the hearing.”

I head out into the sunshine and give a sharp whistle.

Penny’s head whips around and before I know it, she’s bounding over and up the stairs to shove her face in my crotch. “Good to see you too,” I say, sinking my hand into her warm, coppery fur. Noah comes hurrying up the steps, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright.

“Ready?” he says.

“I am.” I brush a piece of grass out of his hair. “But you need to change your shirt.”

“Right,” he says. “Let me grab my bag.”

He heads inside and I turn to see Isla is watching us thoughtfully, her head cocked to one side. Shit, I hope she didn’t see me touching his hair. I’ve got to be more careful. One whisper to the Magnolia Grapevine and this gets out, I’ll be taken off the case and fired immediately. No way Harold would approve of any of his attorneys breaking ethics like this.

I take Noah to the guesthouse, which is past the tennis court, nestled in a little cove of trees. It’s painted white, the interior decorated in shades of blue and cream. There’s a small kitchen and living room, and a bedroom with a king bed and a largewindow overlooking the bay. He drops his bag on the bed and scoops me up into his arms.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my neck and making me shiver. “I know we can’t but?—”

I slant my mouth over his, sinking my fingers into his hair. I know. I want it too. Every fiber of my being is hyperaware of him, every nerve ending aching for his touch. Our kiss is long, and slow, and deep. I finally pull away.

“Tonight,” I say, and he nods, even as his gaze drops to my mouth.

“Tonight,” he says.

“Get changed.”

He gives me a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Ten minutes later, Noah is in a clean white button down, and Alex is driving us to the courthouse. I grit my teeth as I see a handful of reporters gathered around the steps. Not nearly as many as there will be for the trial. They rush toward us as we get out of the car. Noah keeps his head down as I repeat, “No comment,” over and over until we reach the foyer. Grayson is waiting for us just past security.

“The gang’s all back together again,” he says, offering us coffees from a cardboard tray.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I say.

“I live to please.” Grayson gives Noah a quick appraisal. “Don’t you look handsome.”

Noah grins. “Just wait till you see me in one of those fancy suits Von had made for me.”

“Oh honey, I am counting the days,” Grayson says with a wink. “This way. We’re in a conference room on the second floor.”

We walk upstairs and I feel the energy kick in, the rush of adrenaline that comes with court. Whether it’s a trial or voir dire or depositions, I love the high of a case finally starting, that feeling of going into battle. And this time, the feelings are even stronger, because I’m on the side of the innocent. This battle is arighteous one. It’s a thrill I haven’t experienced before, and determination hardens inside me.

I’m going to kick Wilbur’s ass.

I smooth back my hair as Grayson opens the door for me. Judge Warner and Wilbur are standing on the far side of the room, deep in conversation. A stenographer sits at a chair next to the head of the table.

The two men break apart. “Good afternoon,” the judge says, sitting down beside the stenographer. Wilbur takes a seat and Grayson, Noah, and I sit opposite him.

“Good afternoon, your honor,” I say as Grayson pulls out our stack of motions and slides them in front of me.

“I trust you’ve had enough time to prepare?” he says coldly, his tone telling me he hasn’t forgotten the slight of being forced to push this hearing back. I keep a neutral, polite smile on my face.

“We have, your honor, thank you,” I say.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

“The defense moves for a change of venue,” I say, handing him the brief. He flips through it as I continue. “My client is widely known to the community, as was the victim. This case has been in the papers both locally and nationally. It would be impossible to find an impartial jury in?—”

“Motion denied,” Judge Warner says, putting the brief down and looking up at me. “Next?”

---