And now here I am, delivering the closing arguments for the case that I know I’m going to win. I’ve spent more than enough time preparing for this, and I know it in and out. I wanted this win a lot, and I worked my ass off for it.
As I finish my closing arguments, I walk back to my seat. The hairs at the nape of my neck stand up and I smile, sensing Lane’s presence before I even see him. I lift my eyes, a smile already on my lips when I gaze out to the back of the room. But my smile drops when I spot him. He’s sitting in the back row right next to my parents. I wouldn’t even recognize him if he wasn’t giving me the sweet smirk he’s giving me now. I look him up and down, and I feel like I’ve been hit right in the chest. He has on a button-down shirt with a coat and tie, and his hair is styled, slicked back off his face. I frown and sit in my seat.
The jury finds the defendant guilty without even needing to take time to review the case. It all happens suddenly, and before I know it, I have colleagues surrounding me and patting me on the back. My client hugs me, and the whole time, my eyes are on Lane. When it all dies down, I walk right up to Lane and my parents. My mom is hugging him, and at least that calms me a little. He was worried about my parents not liking him for nothing. They love him. They’re able to see what a great guy he is. “Thank you all for coming. Are we still going to the restaurant to celebrate?” I ask the three of them.
“We sure are. You did great up there, honey.” My father wraps me in a big bear hug, and I let him and my mom know that we’ll meet them there. I’m smiling, trying to act like everything is okay, but it’s not. As soon as they walk off, I turn to Lane. “We need to talk.”
I don’t wait for a response. I turn on my heel and lead the way out the back of the courtroom, down the hall and into a room where I know we can talk privately.
He walks in right after me, and he’s smiling proudly at me. But after one look at my face, his smile drops. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
* * *
Lane
My stomach is in knots. The instant she spotted me in the courtroom I knew there was something up. “Yeah, you don’t look like someone that just won their first case. You look pissed.”
“What are you doing?” she demands with a huff under her breath. She looks me up and down, and I guess that even though I tried to clean up a little for her, I probably shouldn’t have come.
“You mean why am I here? Because I love you and I’m proud of you,” I tell her.
“Yeah, well, I love you and I’m proud of you,” she says, walking toward me. I can tell she’s still mad, but she seems to be softening. I still don’t have a clue what’s wrong with her, but she told me she loves me so it can’t be that bad. “But what I mean is, why do you look like that?”
I shake my head, still not understanding.
“A suit and tie. You’ve changed everything about how you look.”
“I had to shave for work, you know that. And I didn’t think you’d want me in here looking like one of the clients you have to defend with all my tattoos blaring for the world to see. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
She rolls her eyes. She pushes the jacket off my shoulders and tosses it to a chair. Undoing my tie, she jerks it from my neck. “Of all the stupid…” She starts ranting at me, but I can barely pay attention while she’s touching me. She unbuttons the sleeves of my shirt and rolls them up my forearms. Lastly, she undoes the top few buttons of my shirt and kisses my chest. “I love you, Lane Davis. You! Exactly the way you are.”
I put my arms around her and cup her ass, drawing her in to me. “I love you too.” I breathe her in. “I’m so proud of you.”
She shakes her head. “You helped me a lot.”
I start to shake my head, but she stops me. “Yes, you did. You helped me do research and listened to me when I needed to vent.” She runs her hand up and down my chest. “You were always there when I needed to unwind and destress.”
I know exactly what she’s talking about. She’s had a busy few weeks, and I made it my mission to give her an orgasm every day. I wish I could say I’m a good guy, but the truth is I’m a selfish prick. I wanted her. My need for her has only grown, and if I was able to relieve her stress by satisfying my need… well, let’s just say I’m a lucky man.
“Yeah, well, I say we celebrate,” I tell her and then remember her parents. “After lunch, I’m taking you home, Angel. I want to show you how proud I am of you.”
Her body trembles against me, and she kisses my lips. “I hope I can wait.”
She grabs on to my hand to lead me out the door, but I pull her to a stop. I’m not a romantic, and I’m probably going to screw this up, but I can’t go another minute.
When she looks at me expectantly, I pull a small box from my pocket and drop to one knee in front of her. “I’ve been carrying this around since I met you. I need you…”
Her eyes are wide, and a look of shock comes on her face. Her hands tighten on my shoulders. “You have me.”
I grip on to her hips and stare into her eyes. “No, I need you with my last name. I need your belly filled with our babies… I need it all.”
She laughs, and I know she wants the same. “Ask me, Lane. Ask me.”
“Will you marry me, Angel?”
She looks at me skeptically. “If I say yes, are you going to quit stalking me?”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m always going to stalk you, sweet girl.”