Page 61 of Miss Understood

“Working. I hope you don’t mind me invading your space. I needed a desk to sort through all these documents.” I motion to the piles of papers scattered across the desk in his home office.

Jesse circles for a quick kiss before making his way to a couch on the other side of the room.

“Don’t mind at all, especially when you’re working in that.” His eyes trail downward as he takes inventory of my outfit: his own dress shirt, with just a couple buttons done, and nothing else.

I kick a bare leg out to tease him. “Not exactly work appropriate.”

“I’m willing to reevaluate the dress code.” He grins.

“I’m sure you are,” I say, crossing my legs under the desk and turning back to the stack of papers.

With one week until the Marchetto court proceedings, there’s an endless amount of work to be done. Every time I think I finally have the beast tamed, another thread comes loose, and if I don’t stay focused, we aren’t going to win.

“You should come to bed,” Jesse says.

He’s leaning forward now, with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his hands. That domineering gaze devours me. I spent my entire life determined to be an independent woman, to not minimize myself for any man, realizing it would likely mean I’d be eternally single. But Jesse surprised me. He doesn’t expect me to be less of myself to make more room for him. He doesn’t want me to shrink so he can be larger. His power doesn’t diminish my own, it empowers me.

He’s confident enough in himself to embrace me for the strong-willed, sometimes aggressive, woman I am, and the fact that he isn’t intimidated is downright sexy.

“I tried sleeping,” I tell him. “There are still holes in the timeline, and it’s all I can think about.”

Jesse’s eyebrows pinch. “Have you tried counting sheep?”

I roll my eyes at him, and he gives me a dirty smirk in response. “I’m heading back to bed soon, I promise. After I finalize the witness list.”

Tension strikes me from across the room, and when I look his direction, I notice he’s now sitting upright with his focus fixed on me.

“You’re upset Brad wants your sister to testify,” I say, standing and walking over to him.

I watch him work over whatever he’s thinking for a minute, and I expect a hardened expression to overtake his face. But when he looks up, I’m met with genuine concern.

Jesse slips his hands up around the back of my bare knees and tugs my body between his legs to rest his head on my stomach. The intimacy makes my belly do a little tumble. Small touches like this catch me off guard. There’s a gentle side to him underneath the strong, determined, powerful exterior. In his arms I’m putty, waiting to be molded.

I stroke the top of his head with my nails while he holds me, tracing a path from his forehead over and down his neck. When he lets go, it’s just enough to guide me onto the couch beside him with my legs propped over his thighs.

“I just wish it didn’t have to come to this,” Jesse says, tipping his head back against the couch and closing his eyes as I trace the inside of his wrist with my thumb.

“You’re worried about your sister being involved in a case against the Marchettos, and I understand that. But Serena’s a tough chick. She knows what she’s signing up for, and she wants to be there for her friend.”

Jesse’s head tilts to the side to look at me. “You talked to her.”

“I’ve been talking to her,” I say. “Preparing her, working her through this. I’m not going to let her answer anything she isn’t comfortable with. But she’s the best character witness we have. We need her statement to help prove Valentina’s story to the jury. Do you trust me?”

A wrinkle forms between Jesse’s eyebrows at my question. Maybe I crossed a line. Sex is one thing, dating is another, but trust? It’s not something either of us hands over freely.

Jesse gives my thighs a squeeze. “I trust you.”

Those three words strike deep in my core. I can’t help but wonder if I’m handing over too much. To allow it to touch me the way it does, to let it settle that far down… I may have thrown the statement out there, but when it came back, it had an added weight that I’m not sure I can handle.

A feverish kick hits me in the ribs.

What happens once this case is over, even if we do continue dating each other? Will I move out? Will we still get a divorce like we planned? Do I want to?

Us deciding to date hasn’t changed the fact that neither of us ever wanted to be legally tied to another person. And whenever I try to bring it up, Jesse brushes it off and says we’ll figure it out later. Which is a good thing, right?

So why is it that every time I’m in his arms, it’s the only place I want to be from now on?

“Your mind just went somewhere,” Jesse says, pulling me into his lap.

---