In Too Deep Page 9

  "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about the meeting on Friday with the Banking Commissioner. I think I've come up with a decent argument for--"

  "We need to talk."

  He'd been talking loud enough to be heard in the hallway. But now she was in his doorway, and she saw his eyes go wide when he saw her outfit.

  "You're still sick? You should be home, not here."

  "I'm not sick." She drew a breath, stepped into his office, and sat in one of his guest chairs. "You need to find another partner. Or cancel the lease. Or take it over on your own. I--I have to pull out."

  He said nothing, just laced his hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair, and waited.

  "Ernest told me last night I can't have the money. Apparently men who are on calendars aren't good enough for me. The bastard."

  "The money isn't an issue, Hannah. I know you're uncomfortable borrowing from me, but we can pull it out of firm income. You can take a reduced draw every month until your share is repaid. Or we can talk to banks about getting you a loan. Hell, I'd happily sue Ernest and your mom for you. There are ways."

  "We've talked about this. I'm not comfortable with any of those ways. If I borrow from the firm, you're taking all the risk. We both know I won't find another lender. I can't use my credit cards because that would be foolish with the interest rates. And the life insurance beneficiary was my mom. I'd never win a court battle."

  "Maybe not, but if the press got wind of it--the baby girl denied the money her hero cop father wanted for her? With Ernest's position and power? We wouldn't even have to file. Just the threat alone."

  She just shook her head. Thinking about suing her family was too much at the moment. "Please. Don't fight on this just because you like me. You need a solvent partner."

  "I need a partner I respect and trust."

  "I need Matthew. I--I want this. I do. But it's a lot of work. And I'm not sure I want it if I don't have him to support me."

  It was the first time she'd voiced the thoughts that had been buzzing around in her head, but it was true. She understood the way he looked at life. Why he was cutting back instead of franchising. She understood it, and she respected it. But she still wanted to grow, even knowing how hard it could be. But she also knew it would be lonely. And she wanted Matthew beside her, filling the void. Maybe even giving her a family. One that they could raise together. One that gave her a reason for working hard.

  She didn't say any of that aloud, but from the way Easton was looking at her, she thought that maybe he understood a little of it. Even so, she said, "I don't want this without him," just to make sure they were clear.

  "You know I love you, Hannah. But sometimes you're a real idiot."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You do want this. And you want him, too. And you're not playing smart about either one of them."

  "I--what?"

  "Take what you want, Hannah. You want to be part of this firm, then do it."

  "How?"

  "I've already told you. Money's on the table. Use it. Pay me back a grand a month. Bring in a killer client and take it out of your share. Get your ass up to Dallas and tell your mother flat out how you feel. Threaten a lawsuit. All viable options. You say you want it, but you're not doing it. And you're making excuses for why not."

  "Because--"

  "Not because you feel bad about borrowing my money. You and I both know I can afford it. It's because of what you just said--you don't want to do it without him. I don't blame you. I don't want to do it without Selma."

  "So--"

  But once again, he wouldn't let her get a word in. "Fortunately, you're brilliant at arguing. It's why I want you as a partner."

  "I am good," she said. "But that's the problem. Matthew doesn't think he's good enough for me. He thinks I'm some intellectual icon and he's a gutter rat. It's ridiculous, but it's in his head."

  "So you convince him."

  "What if I can't?"

  "Then I guess you're out of options. So I suggest you try really hard."

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was one in the morning by the time Hannah got her courage up, but she didn't care. She stood on his front porch and pounded on the front door, alternating her violent knocks with equally harsh stabs at his doorbell.

  Finally, a light flipped on inside, and she took one step back, waiting for the door to open. As soon as it did, she rushed inside, the finger that was on the doorbell now punching like a drill press against his chest.

  "Was it all just a game to you? The time we spent together? Everything we said? Everything we did?"

  "Hi, Hannah," he said sleepily. "What the hell?"

  "You heard me." She shoved him with her palms. "Wake up and tell me. Were we just some game you played?"

  He scrubbed his hands over his face, then looked at her with such conviction it made her take a step back. "No. Never a game."

  "Then what?"

  "A fantasy," he said. "For both of us."

  He sighed, then dragged his hands through his hair before flopping down onto the couch and nodding for her to do the same. She stayed standing.

  "You're still living in that fantasy land if you think we can work," he said. "Your stepfather had it right. You're champagne and caviar, and I'm beer and barbecue."

  "I like beer and barbecue," she said, wishing she could get inside his head and make him understand.

  "Who doesn't? But only for a while. Not forever. You have a good life. You're going to do good things. Important things."

  "Dammit, Matthew, you have the thickest head. Don't you see? I will do those things. But it won't be right unless you're there to hold my hand. You're the person who makes me whole. The person who helps me to see--and to be--who I really am. I wasn't looking for you, but I found you. And now I need you."

  "You don't," he said, then he stood and pulled her close, kissing her with such fierce passion that she was certain that when they broke apart he would tell her it was all a joke, and of course he was staying with her.

  But when he stepped back, all he did was nod toward the door and say, "I think it's time for you to go."

  Fight for him. Argue to win him.

  But what else was there to say?

  She nodded, then moved to the door. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to him. "Just think it over, okay? Don't screw this up for us. We've barely gotten started. I think we're real. And honestly, I thought that you did, too."

  *

  Real.

  The word cut through the hum that had been filling his head since Wednesday night. A fog that sounded remarkably like Ernest Pierpont telling him that he was worthless.

  But here was Hannah telling him the opposite. And she was the one he wanted to believe.

  Wanted, yes. But he also didn't want to derail her life or her ambitions. If he was going to be with her, he wanted to be an asset, a partner, an equal. Definitely not a burden.

  So what was real?

  Her hand turned on the knob, and he snapped. He couldn't let her leave--not like this. He lunged, taking her wrist and pulling her toward him.

  All he meant to do was tell her to stay, but she was in his arms, her breath coming hard. He couldn't resist one last taste, and when he closed his mouth over hers, she melted against him. He lost himself in the kiss. In the knowledge that she was right. This was real. Them. Together.

  "Hannah," he said when they finally broke apart.

  "Don't you dare tell me again that you're not good enough. I don't want to hear it. You're the best man I know. You'll be the best father I can imagine. And I don't want to work my tail off building a law firm unless I'm doing it for a reason."

  She cupped his cheek. "Don't you see that you're the reason? That I want to have a future with you. Or, at least, I want us to try. I don't want to scare you away, but I'm falling in love with you. If you're going to break my heart, do it now and I'll leave. But if we have a chance..."

  His heart ached for her, and in his mind he
saw that future. Him working his gyms. A boy on a soccer field. A girl on the high dive. His wife in the stands beside him cheering them on. Probably with a red pencil and a legal brief beside her.

  The image made him smile.

  "What?"

  "Just promise me one thing."

  "Sure."

  "No taking work to the kids' competitions."

  She stared at him as if he'd gone crazy, then she burst out laughing. "I think I can promise that. So long as you promise to never make me run a marathon with you."

  "Deal."

  They grinned at each other, and he thought that he could probably run two marathons right then.

  Her grin turned impish. "Shall we seal it with a kiss?"

  "I've got a better idea," he said, as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. "Take off your clothes."

  Her brows rose. "Really? Why?"

  "Nudity's a great equalizer," he said matter-of-factly. "But mostly, that's how I want to seal this deal with the woman I love."

  "I can live with that," she said, as she pulled her T-shirt over her head and then slid into his arms.

  *

  Later, naked and sated, he held her close in bed and let the rhythm of her heartbeat echo through him as he wondered how in the hell he'd gotten so lucky.

  Then again, luck was relative. And though he'd won Hannah, she'd lost out, at least as far as her dad's money was concerned. "Are you just going to let it go?"

  "For a little while," she said, obviously understanding that he meant the money. "I'll ask again in a few months. And if the answer is still no ... well, Easton has an idea that I'm pretty sure will work. And then I--we--can take that money and put it away for our own kids," she added, her words giving him a special kind of glow.

  She rolled over to face him, their legs twined as she snuggled close. "Hopefully Mom will come around before I have to sic Easton on her. But right now, it doesn't matter. Right now, I've got everything I need."

  He held her tight, not quite believing this was real, and yet at the same time, certain nothing in his life had been more perfect.

  "Yeah," he said with all his heart. "Me, too."

  Epilogue

  Beverly Martin pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as she leaned over Griffin's shoulder so they could both see the computer screen.

  "I don't think Angelique would argue with Hammond right now," she said, reaching over him to tap the screen.

  She had to lean forward to do that, and she caught the freshly washed scent of his ever-present hoodie and breathed deep. He still wore it constantly around her, despite the fact that they'd been working together for months, pulling long hours on the revisions to Griffin's screenplay that was set to go into production soon, assuming the stars stayed in alignment.

  "You may be right," he said. "She's not going to show her cards yet."

  "Exactly." She moved her hand away so that he could see the screen, resting it now on his right shoulder. She felt the hard, rigged scar tissue beneath his T-shirt and hoodie. And she also felt his muscles tense.

  "Beverly."

  "Yes, that line," she said, pretending to misunderstand.

  "Beverly, don't."

  "Don't what?"

  For a moment, he was silent. "You know."

  She waited a beat, then another. Then she lifted her hand off his shoulder. But, dammit, this was getting ridiculous. She couldn't be in the same room with him without fighting her way through an electrical storm of attraction, all the more intense because he never let lightning strike. Which was a stupid metaphor, but that only proved how much he was messing with her mind.

  Time to take a stand.

  She moved around his chair, then leaned against the desk so that she was facing him, the computer at her back, and Griffin right in front of her. That close, there was no way she could avoid seeing the massive scars that marred the right side of his face. Of his entire body, she believed, though she'd never actually seen as much.

  "Beverly." Her name was a growl, and he tilted his head down, putting his face in shadows.

  "Dammit, Griff. What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "Wrong with me?" His head jerked up, his voice filled with anger and derision. "Take a goddamn look."

  "I've been looking for months," she retorted. "I don't see a thing."

  "Do not patronize me."

  "You're an idiot. You know that?"

  He rolled his chair backwards. "We're done for today."

  She grabbed the arms and pulled it back. "No, we're not." She closed her hand over his right one, the rough, destroyed flesh hard beneath her palm.

  For a moment, their eyes met, then he looked away.

  She took a breath for courage, then lifted her hand, moving it to his hoodie. Gently, she pushed it off his head.

  "Don't," he said, his voice tight.

  "Then stop me," she said, cupping her palm over his scarred cheek. She met his eyes again, her heart pounding as she waited for him to do just that. And then, when he stayed motionless, she did what she had wanted to do for ages. She bent forward, closed her mouth over his, and kissed him.

  *

  A note from JK:

  I hope you enjoyed In Too Deep!

  Be sure to grab Griffin and Beverly's story, Light My Fire, book 11 in the Man of the Month series!

  If you want your very own Man of the Month calendar, you can grab it now! (While supplies last!)

  Guess what? I have even more exciting things coming in 2018, including more Nikki & Damien Stark! Keep reading for details!

  Subscribe to my newsletter or text JKenner to 21000 so you'll be among the first to know when fab things happen!

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  Light My Fire

  Be sure not to miss Griffin and Beverly in Light My Fire!

  I don't do relationships.

  I've lived my life hiding my scars, revealing myself only the in the scripts I write and the characters I voice.

  Few people know the real me. I'm too careful. Too afraid of getting burned all over again.

  Enter Beverly Martin. A movie star. A woman so beautiful and caring she makes my heart ache. She says she wants me--and her touch almost makes me believe that a girl like her could love a man like me.

  But being with her would mean letting the spotlight of fame shine on me, too. And I'm not sure I can do that--even if walking away means losing the woman I love.

  Grab your copy now: Light My Fire!

  Who's Your Man of the Month?

  When a group of fiercely determined friends realize their beloved hang-out is in danger of closing, they take matters into their own hands to bring back customers lost to a competing bar. Fighting fire with a heat of their own, they double down with the broad shoulders, six-pack abs, and bare chests of dozens of hot, local guys who they cajole, prod, and coerce into auditioning for a Man of the Month calendar.

  But it's not just the fate of the bar that's at stake. Because as things heat up, each of the men meets his match in this sexy, flirty, and compelling binge-read romance series of twelve novels releasing every other week from New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner.

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  Down On Me

  Hold On Tight

  Need You Now

  Start Me Up

  Get It On

  In Your Eyes

  Turn Me On

  Shake It Up

  All Night Long

  In Too Deep

  Light My Fire

  Walk The Line

  and don't miss Bar Bites: A Man of the Month Cookbook!

  Want your own Man of the Month calendar? Grab it now! (While supplies last!)

  The Men of Man of t
he Month!

  Are you eager to learn which Man of the Month book features which sexy hero?

  Here's a handy list!

  Down On Me - meet Reece Hold On Tight - meet Spencer Need You Now - meet Cameron Start Me Up - meet Nolan Get It On - meet Tyree

  In Your Eyes - meet Parker Turn Me On - meet Derek Shake It Up - meet Landon All Night Long - meet Easton In Too Deep - meet Matthew Light My Fire - meet Griffin Walk The Line - meet Brent

  and don't miss Bar Bites: A Man of the Month Cookbook that includes a short story featuring Eric, slices of life, and bonus scenes for all the men!

  Want your own Man of the Month calendar? Grab it now! (While supplies last!)

  Meet Damien Stark

  Only his passion could set her free...

  The Original Trilogy

  Release Me

  Claim Me

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  And Beyond...

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  Meet Damien Stark in Release Me, book 1 of the wildly sensual series that's left millions of readers breathless ...

  Chapter One

  A cool ocean breeze caresses my bare shoulders, and I shiver, wishing I'd taken my roommate's advice and brought a shawl with me tonight. I arrived in Los Angeles only four days ago, and I haven't yet adjusted to the concept of summer temperatures changing with the setting of the sun. In Dallas, June is hot, July is hotter, and August is hell.

  Not so in California, at least not by the beach. LA Lesson Number One: Always carry a sweater if you'll be out after dark.