Love Is Louder (20 page)

“You will always have my attention if you fuck me like that every morning.” I grin as I press my breasts into him, needing to feel him with every part of my body.

His eyes darken as his hands stroke the dip and curve of my waist to my hip. He pulls me into him where I feel his erection against my thigh.

“That can be arranged.”

James’ aftershave lingers in the air as I descend the stairs and enter the airy kitchen where he’s sitting at the table reading the Sunday paper and drinking coffee. Tying the sash of my black silk robe around my waist, I approach him as he sets down his paper. He gives me a soft smile, and I reciprocate it.

“Good morning, babe.”

I lean down, kissing him and tasting the savory coffee on his lips. I turn around to grab myself a cup of coffee, but James’ hands grab my waist from behind and pull me back to sit on his lap.

“Didn’t you get enough this morning?”

“I want to have you in every room.” He nudges my ass with his erection.

“I think we’ve done it here several times already,” I tease, playfully swatting his face.

“Really.”

He starts to untie the sash on my robe, and when his hand makes contact with my bare skin, arousal spreads through me. His hand begins to trace an upward path on my leg, closer to my throbbing core.

“James.” I lean my head back against his shoulder. “You mentioned something about a get- together earlier.” I close my eyes when he touches me over the silk of my thong.

“I did?” He feigns ignorance while nibbling on my earlobe. “Oh, yeah.” Kissing the corner of my mouth, he draws away and strokes his finger through my hair, pulling it away from my face.

“How many people do you plan on inviting?” I ask, rising to fix myself a cup of coffee.

“I don’t know.” He frowns at losing contact. “I’m thinking some people from the office and some old friends from high school. Not many and anyone you want to invite.”

“Well, I guess I can invite Ava and Ashley.” I grab a mug from the cabinet and pour myself some coffee, admiring the sun as it bathes the kitchen with golden rays. It’s a perfect summer morning. Life couldn’t be more perfect.

“Are you okay with this, babe?” He shoots me an apprehensive glance.

“What’s that look for?” I come up behind him, running my hand through his hair. “You think I can’t handle it?”

“We haven’t had a party since we moved here. It’s a little last minute, and I just want to make sure you’re fine with it.”

“Sure, I’m fine with it.”

Am I really?

I’m not a social butterfly, and I’m not a Martha Stewart. The idea of coordinating an event in my house seems daunting to me, but I have to get over it.

A smiling James cups my cheek with his large hands and looks up into my eyes and leans up to kiss me.

“There’s that look again.”

“‘There’s that look again,’” I repeat, drowning in his blue depths. “Sure, I can do this. Caterer, red, white, and blue frilly stuff, sparklers and some alcohol, and we’re good to go, right?”

“Pretty simple. And you can do your thing with your camera.”

“Yes, sounds perfect,” I muse, kissing him one last time before I make my way to the open patio doors. I close my eyes as the sun kisses my skin and the scent of freshly cut grass fills my nose.

Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?

Pictures. Fourth of July. Lily’s birthday
.

“Shit,” I complain, snapping my eyes open.

“What is it, babe?”

“I just remembered...” I pause. “I have a photo shoot that day.”

“On the Fourth of July? When do you work holidays?”

“It was pretty spontaneous. It’s a birthday party for a four-year-old girl. I couldn’t say no.”

“Well, we can just schedule it later or whenever you’re done with this job.”

“Yes, it should work out.”

He strides over to me and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Who is this lucky little girl who has the extreme pleasure of employing my talented wife to take her birthday pictures?”

“You won’t believe it, but it’s Lily Marks.”

“Lily Marks? Should I know her?” he adds, absently playing with my hair. I love when he does this. Something so simple and intimate means so much more to me than any grand gestures.

“Your friend from high school, Mason Marks, has a daughter. They came by the studio the other day.”

When I say this, his hands drop slowly to his side, and he steps slightly in front of me. “Mason has a daughter?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Wow.” I watch as he takes a heavy swallow, perspiration building on his upper lip.

His reaction throws me, and I’m curious about the thoughts in his head after finding out his friend is a father. Will this change how he feels about having kids, knowing this about Mason? Is it envy he’s feeling?

“You sound surprised.”

“He just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would want kids.”

“And what does that kind of guy look like?” I ask pointedly. With deliberate slowness, I lift my head and confront him. His stiffly crooked lips and nervously blinking eyes belie his confidence. He walked right into this argument. I step away from the patio doors, push my shoulders back and set my coffee mug gently onto the countertop.

“Shit, Brie. Don’t start this.”

“Well, you look like a guy that doesn’t want kids. Black hair, blue eyes, six-two. No kids, right?” My words drip with sarcasm. Anger begins to spew from my body. There are two things in which I’m passionate—my photography and kids—and James is well aware of them. “She’s a cutie, too. Light blue eyes, angel soft brown hair. You should meet her. Maybe it will change your mind on wanting to have kids soon.”

I tiptoe my gaze down his heaving chest. Avoiding this topic means he wins, and my silence gives him strength. We are partners, equals. Ignoring my needs is not fair to me. He needs to hear me.

“Please, listen to me.” The plea in my tone is clear and palpable. I see the tightness in his jaw as he opens his mouth to speak.

“No,” he says sternly as he rests both of his hands upon the marble countertop. “Not now.”

The heat in his words cracks my courage, tightening the muscles in my face. I want to cry. I want to scream. The words sting so deeply that my breathing stalls.

Breathe. One. Two. Three.

Minutes pass by. I relax my face and look him straight in the eyes, and he stares right back. Just as I am about to turn away and leave to escape the pain of his words, he clutches my elbow and our heated gazes collide before he slides his hand down my arm to my hand. I pull away.

“When? If not now, when?” I demand, meeting his unwavering eyes. I want to see something soften, bend, anything, but it looks like I’m staring into an endless stormy sea. Why does he feel so strongly about this? I don’t understand.

“Not now. Please, Brie.” There’s torment behind his words. “You see how busy I am. There is so much going on right now. I have so much at stake. I have so much to prove.”

“To whom?” I pivot and meet his narrowed glare. The potency of his anger saturates my skin and bleeds into every pore, as tension creeps through my limbs.

“To myself. To my parents. Harvard wasn’t cheap. People have expectations,” he says, distant and irritated. “I told you this already.”

“What about my expectations of you as my husband?”

“What about you? Do you think you can handle having a child right now?” The way he hurts me makes me sad, but I conceal it. “Alone, when I’m in the office? With your photography business growing? Were you going to have someone else raise it? Is that what you fucking want?”

“We’ll figure it out.” I expel a deep breath. “Don’t you care that I’m upset and angry?” I glare at the man I love who’s telling me he can’t give me the one thing I want. It sucks that he thinks he can do whatever and say whatever he wants, and I have to always be the doting submissive wife. He still hasn’t given me a
good
reason why.

“I do care, but I fucking can’t give you a reason right now. A reason you want to hear.”

“Make me understand. Tell me.” A timeworn ache breaks in my chest that I mask under a steady breath as I let my eyes fall to the floor. “I want to know why, James.”

“Just give me time.”

Calmly, he closes the space between us and lifts his hand to my cheek. I stay still as he traces my jaw, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. I lean back as my eyes lock on his. I don’t respond. I can’t.

“I’m sorry. We’ll talk. I promise,” he whispers. He drops his lips to mine, pressing the seam of his lips to my bottom one. Clutching my body against his, I feel the tension lift between us just for a moment, for now.

I will hold him to this promise.

“What a morning.” Lisa sighs, shoving the piles of papers back into the dog-eared case files. “This Meadow Marks’ case that was reopened is a mystery.” She waves the file in front of me like a red flag. “Don’t you think? So many inconsistencies?”

“Yes, it is.” Chills run down my spine, and my blood pressure rises. I’d love to wrap my hands around the person’s neck that decided to open their mouth about this case. In four years, no one has had anything of substance to bring to the table. Now, as the DA, I am going to have to prosecute because I want this case, and the thought makes me laugh to the point of tears. Tears of frustration. Perhaps there’s a way to make it all vanish again. I have to think on this.

“Poor woman was only twenty-six and six months pregnant. So tragic.” She shakes her head, slipping the file under her arm.

Clearing my troubled thoughts, I turn to her and nod, saying, “When a person dies like that, it’s always tragic. I hope someone comes forward.”

What utter bullshit. I want nothing more than for this case to just disappear.

“Her file says she went to Massapequa High School, like you,” Lisa says, waiting with unfaltering eyes for a reply. “She was beautiful. You must have known her.”

I raise a brow at her, trying to contain my shock, even though I shouldn’t be surprised she has knowledge of this. As lawyers, we investigate, but this is more than just about the case. We both know that.

She blushes and chuckles. “Well…I always make it a point to know the person I’ll be working closely with.”

I hesitate, nervously clicking my ballpoint pen. “Yes, I knew of her.”

I have enough shit on my plate now. With the addition of this, my already hectic life is becoming even more unmanageable. I wasn’t the DA when this case was opened four years ago. I was fresh out of law school, engaged, and my life was just beginning.

“Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

I collapse in my chair behind my desk. “Sure.”

She smiles with intent and walks toward me. Placing her hands onto my desk, she bends over so I can benefit from her unbuttoned blouse. Everything Lisa does is strategic when she’s around me.

“Come on. Let’s get some coffee. Maybe the fresh air will make you feel better.” She straightens up, adjusting her ass-hugging skirt mere inches from my face.

“No, maybe later. I have a case I need to close.”

“Don’t we all?” She frowns playfully as she spins toward the door.”Last call,” she teases, swaying her hips for my viewing pleasure.

Damn that ass. Damn my cock.