Читать книгу Leave Me Breathless - HelenKay Dimon - Страница 9

“Tell me Callie’s story.” Ben took the cap off the bottle and slid the beer across his kitchen counter to his brother. With dinner over, Mark fired up the laptop. That meant Ben had a short window to grab his brother’s attention before he drifted off into law enforcement worker mode.

“What do you want to know?” Mark shuffled his papers, scanning them for something, but didn’t bother to look up.

“Why isn’t she with the FBI now?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“I’m asking you.”

Mark glanced up then. He leaned his elbows on the counter and passed the bottle back and forth between his palms. “She chose to move on.”

“That’s not a real answer. Hell, I could get that information without much digging.” Ben wanted something more. Something personal that would give him a little insight into Callie.

“Need-to-know only.”

“Don’t give me that. Was it an assignment gone bad? She swore at the director? She shot a witness who pissed her off, which I could absolutely see her doing, by the way. Or was it something worse?”

“You might want to be careful. She’s considered excellent with that weapon.”

“So noted.”

“And she’s very private. She took on this job as a favor to me. I wanted someone smart and tough to watch over you. Someone from the outside who you couldn’t boss around or intimidate.”

“You make me sound difficult,” Ben joked.

“You’re a complete pain in the ass about all of this.”

“Apparently you’re not alone in thinking that. She’s already threatened to put a bullet in me.”

“No surprise there.”

Ben looked down at the bottle in his hand. He picked at the edge of the label, trying to get lost in the mundane activity rather than let his mind wander to memories of how tight Callie’s ass looked in those pants today. “But her accuracy on the gun range doesn’t really answer my question.”

Mark didn’t say anything. He just let the quiet fill the room, as if silence somehow answered his brother’s question. Finally he spoke up. “Let me ask you something.”

Ben swallowed a groan. “Can I stop you?”

“Why the intense interest in her personal life?”

“She’s in my office.”

“You know everything about Elaine or that Rod kid?” Mark punctuated the remark with a knowing smile. “Don’t remember you insisting on a background check when those two came to work for you.”

Ben thought about throwing his brother’s laptop out the window. “This is different. I couldn’t move two inches today without tripping over Callie.”

And then there was the part where he wanted her until his mind blanked on everything else around him. The woman had a smart mouth and sweet curvy body. He’d never had a preference for blondes versus brunettes. Now he did.

She pretended to despise him, said all sorts of shit he’d never let anyone else say to him at the office. More than once he caught her staring up at him from her seat in the courtroom. Sometimes he saw a soft awareness in her eyes. Other times she threw him a want-to-squash-you glare.

The reality was her feigned disinterest drove him to his knees. There was something pretty damn hot about a woman who acted as if she could live without him, who didn’t care about the rumors of his bedroom skills or how fast he could get tickets to whatever event she wanted to see in the area. Independent and feisty. Yeah, Callie appealed to him on a fundamental level. Rubbed him raw and had him thinking up new uses for his desk.

And despite the not-interested act, there was a “got the green light” vibe zapping off her that had made it tough to concentrate on the middle-aged men parading through his courtroom all afternoon. He called two extra breaks during the afternoon session just to have a few seconds alone to think. Of course, she followed him everywhere, so he had to go to his only private space anywhere at the moment—the bathroom. The second time he stood in there with one hand against the wall mirror and mentally listed out all the reasons making a move on a prickly woman who carried a gun was a dumb idea.

Mark clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You can’t sleep with her.”

“Whoa.” Ben held up his hands and tried to deliver his best shocked look. “Where did that come from?”

“Thirty-eight years of seeing that stupid smile on your face and the past twenty plus watching how you operate with women.”

Ben balanced his hips against the counter and swished his drink around in the bottle. “Despite what everyone in the courthouse thinks, I’ve never had a relationship with someone who works for me.”

“So?”

“What, you don’t believe me?” That possibility hit Ben like a sucker punch. Through everything that happened in the past, they believed in and supported each other. They owed the lives they had now to that fact.

“I mean ‘so’ as in Callie works for me. Your impressive statistic isn’t relevant.”

Ben relaxed, but not fully. He had hoped Mark would miss that distinction. “What’s your point?”

“She’s there to protect you.”

She excelled at distracting him. Ben didn’t buy into the rest. He could watch out for himself. Had been doing it for years no matter the cost. “So you keep saying.”

“I am not paying her to slide all over you.”

“I’m not sure which one of us is the whore in that scenario you’re describing, but for the record, I’m outraged on Callie’s behalf,” Ben said in his most sarcastic voice.

“She’s off limits.”

“Come on. She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions.”

All the humor faded from Mark’s face. “Not her, Ben.”

Ah, shit. All the oxygen sucked right out of the room. Ben could handle Mark’s interference at work. Ben understood where the concern came from and forced back his refusals to let Mark win that one. But Ben refused to fight his brother over a woman. They’d never done that before, despite what Mark might think, and were too old to do it now.

“You want her,” Ben said.

“What? No.” Mark’s eyes grew wide enough to take over his face. “I mean, she’s fine. Don’t get me wrong. I have a pair of fucking eyes, so I can see how good she looks.”

Mark could get off that subject damn quick, as far as Ben was concerned. “So?”

Mark squirmed in his seat as he picked up his bottle and set it back down again. And then repeated the exercise four more times.

The fog cleared from Ben’s brain. He got it. “This isn’t about Callie.”

“It’s just that—”

Ben forced his hands to unclench from the counter behind him. “You’re stuck on someone else.”

Mark’s anger came fast. “That’s over.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“We’re not talking about my love life. We’re on yours.” Mark shoved the laptop and everything in front of him off to the side and then started to pace. “Look, there are about a hundred women who would love to say they got nailed by the popular young judge. You’ve got power, and that stupid robe seems to drive the courthouse ladies wild. You need a good time? Pick one of them.”

Ben tried to think of something less appealing. “I can’t date anyone who works for me or in the same building.”

Mark stopped. Even gave a forced smile. “Then you have your answer.”

“To what?”

“Callie works there. Right in your office, in fact. By your logic, she’s in restricted territory.”

“She doesn’t really.”

Mark shrugged. “Besides, she probably isn’t interested.”

“What about my aphrodisiac robe?”

“You’re not her type.”

Ben refused to ask. This amounted to brotherly warfare. He set his empty bottle in the sink and thought about…Hell. He turned back around. “What’s her type?”

“A guy who’s smart enough to take a bodyguard without whining when one’s offered,” Mark said as if he’d been waiting to fire off that response.

“You’re wrong.”

“About?”

“Almost everything, but mostly about Callie’s feelings. She wants me back.” Ben was counting on being right about that important fact.

“She better not.”

Ben was thinking the exact opposite.