Page 48 of Drilled

“You’re still doing it,” she said, her voice dropping an octave lower. Her eyes were fixed on mine and I felt my entire body go rigid. Then I melted against her touch, trying not to make it obvious that her hand was anchoring me. “You’re still throwing yourself in front of the collapse. Protecting people. Pouring that passion into everything you do now.”

This woman was going to be the end of me. I cupped my hand over her hand and slowly brought it down, tilting my head until my cheek brushed against her knuckles. When I brought them to my closed lips, Lane was the one to look startled this time.

“I’d like to be that one who gets to do that for you right now. Do you wanna talk about what happened with your mom?” I asked carefully.

Conflict flickered on her face. Then she sighed. She opened her mouth to say something when my phone buzzed with a notification that our food was five minutes away.

“Perfect timing. You get dinner and a show,” Lane said, caressing her thumb over my cheek before standing to her feet. “I’ll get the bottle and a second glass. You get the food and when we reconvene, I’ll fill you in on all the pathetic details. Deal?”

“Deal,” I agreed.

Before long, we were finally settled, the bottle of wine almost empty between us and a feast of birria quesa-tacos, consomé, frijoles charros and elote spread out before us. It was the holy-grail combo, and from the way Lane’s face completely lit up, I was fairly confident that she approved.

“And you claim not to know much about food,” she said, already digging in.

I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. “Like I said; living off of takeout most days builds experience.”

She laughed and poured me a glass of wine. Lane didn’t start telling me about her coffee meeting until we’d polished off half the food and cleared the rest of the bottle. She was noticeably more at ease than before, her face relaxed and open as she told me about her past.

It felt like I was being given a window to see something rare—Public Defender Lane Whittaker stripped down and vulnerable. She didn’t burst into tears or anything. But I managed to catch the occasional tremble in her voice, and the way she paused every now and again to catch herself.

And hearing about her mom…about how she’d always been cold with Lane and cut her down whenever she had the chance, right up to the present day where she still diminished her career accomplishments and was now trying to take the Grayston from her...

My chest tightened with the desire to protect Lane. I didn’t just want to take care of her physical safety, I wanted to let her know that she was safe here with me. That I would guard that vulnerability with my life.

I put my glass down. “Lane, I say this with all due respect but your mother has no idea what she’s talking about. I don’t know much about the legal stuff, but everything she’s said about you, I hope you know none of that is true. She should be proud of the woman she raised.”

Lane looked taken aback, blinking once at me. She laughed, but it sounded strained. “Well, I appreciate the flattery. I’ll be sure to include that in my Google review.”

There it was again, that protective shield of humor and sarcasm. But I didn’t banter with her this time. I needed her to understand that I was being serious.

“You’re amazing, Lane,” I said.

I knew that I probably shouldn’t have said those words even as they left my mouth. But fuck, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the way I felt when I looked at her. It was automatic, a running instinct that I couldn’t turn off even if I tried and I was sick of trying to fight it.

I put my own empty glass down, reservations gone. I leaned in, taking her hand in mine. “I mean that. You’re one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. And the fact that your own family can’t see that is the height of insanity to me. But I swear to you, as long as I’m here I’m not going to let anyone make you feel that way again.”

Her eyes glistened with tears that she still tried to hold back until one finally escaped and I reached out to catch it with my thumb. Lane grabbed my hand and pressed the side of her face into my palm.

My body reacted before common sense did and I slowly leaned in, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted. But she didn’t and once our lips met, she immediately started kissing me back. I could taste the wine on her mouth, and the feeling was electric.

My hands gently cupped her face and she tilted her head, her hands holding my elbows. I was losing myself in her, it was fucking inevitable and I knew it. But even just kissing her had the effect of tempting me to break every other rule that stood in the way. I didn’t care right now about Dax or Cornerstone or professionalism or anything else other than the taste of her and how soft she felt in my hands.

How I wanted more of her. I wanted to use my body to show her in all the ways possible that I was going to keep her safe and that my word held weight. I wanted to prove it to her again and again…

A series of insistent, heavy thumps sounded at the door and we pulled apart. When I looked at Lane to wordlessly ask if she was expecting anyone, she just shook her head.

“I’ll get it,” I said, but she got up with me anyway and followed me to the front door.

I wasn’t exactly expecting good tidings this time of the night. Especially not with that knock.

I looked through the peephole and what do you know, if it wasn’t the resident old prick himself waiting for us on the other side of the door. I pulled it open, my shoulder checking the frame as I stepped forward to completely block the threshold, instantly forcing Sandy to take a startled step back into the chilly hallway.

"Can I help you, Sandy?" I asked, keeping my voice level, though my jaw was locked tight.

He sneered, thrusting a crumpled piece of paper toward my chest. His voice reeked of petty, small-man entitlement. "You can pack up your tools and get the hell out, that's what you can do. New HOA mandate, effective immediately. Your operating hours are cut by four hours a day. No construction noise before noon, none after four."

I frowned, reading through the document. Lane stepped up behind me, her sharp voice slicing through the air.