What He Reasons (What He Wants, Book Twenty-Five) Read online

  Professor Worthington.

  Gone.

  Jason Cartwright’s murder.

  Gone.

  All of it meant nothing.

  All of it was nothing, because there was nothing that could touch me as long as I had Noah.

  And now, our baby.

  He held his hand against my stomach gently, his thumb brushing over my clit as he rocked his hips, pushing inside of me, until we both came together, crying out.

  * * *

  A fter , we ordered Chinese food and ate it in bed. I’d pulled on one of Noah’s old law school t-shirts, one that was so big it hung down to my knees. He’d pulled on a pair of loose black pajama pants that hung low on his hips, and stayed shirtless. It was hard not to stare at the perfection that was his body, at the flex of his cut biceps, at the soft line of hair that started at his navel and disappeared into the dip of his pants.

  Everything about him was sex personified, and it was so intense, it permeated everything, blotting out everything else. I wondered if I would ever get used to it.

  “This is a very non Noah-Cutler thing to do,” I said, looking at the makeshift picnic we’d spread out in front of us on the bed. Takeout containers were strewn about, each one filled with something different.

  “What is?”

  “Eating in bed.” The sheets in this room were always immaculately pressed, stark white, cleaned and replaced by someone I never saw, a maid or housekeeper who came when I wasn’t around. Even Docket seemed to somehow know how perfect the sheets were supposed to be, and he tended to make sure he slept only on top of the comforter.

  “Oh, is it?” Noah reached down and picked up a piece of sushi, held it over the bed and pretended he was going to drop it.

  “Stop it!” I said. “You’re going to get the sheets dirty.”

  “Oh, now you’re worried about messes? Now who’s the one being clean?”

  “Please,” I said, rolling my eyes as I picked a piece of chicken out of the container of chicken lo mein. I popped it into my mouth then set the container back down on the nightstand. “You’re going to have to get used messes around here when the baby comes.”

  “Charlotte –”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No more shutting down, Noah. I get it. You’re afraid that you’re going to be shit dad because you had a shit dad. But that’s not true. You’re going to be a great dad. I’m scared, too. It’s normal to be scared.”

  “You don’t know I’m going to be a great dad.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I do.” And I did. I knew deep in my heart that he would. He would be kind and giving, if he could just allow himself to be. “Maybe we need to see a therapist,” I said. “Someone who can help us to work through these things.”

  He scoffed. “I don’t need a therapist to tell me I’m fucked up, Charlotte.”

  “That’s not what a therapist does, Noah. They don’t just sit there and tell you you’re fucked up. They help you to figure out why you’re fucked up, and they help you work through your issues.”

  “Therapy is pointless.”

  “It’s not pointless,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure about it myself. “And besides, at least it’s something.”

  He sighed and scrubbed at his face. “Will that make you feel better? If I go to therapy?”

  “No, what will make me feel better is if you want to go to therapy, or at least do something.” I swallowed. “Just because your dad wasn’t….” I started to say ‘wasn’t a good dad’ but I knew that was a gross understatement. So I stopped and started over. I wasn’t going to skirt around issues anymore, wasn’t going to be so afraid of pushing him. If we were going to have a child together, then we were going to have to talk about things. “Just because your dad was a monster doesn’t mean you are.”

  He didn’t say anything, and so I reached out and wrapped my hand around his.

  “What about your mother?” I asked gently. “You mentioned her before. You said she was going to come visit, and then I never heard anything else about it.”

  “That’s a very complicated relationship.”

  “In what sense?”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. I knew his history with his mother. How his father had beat him that night, how his mother and his brother, Audi, had taken his father’s side, had told the police that Noah had been the aggressor even though it wasn’t true.

  “I know the backstory,” I said carefully. “But you still talk to her. Have you guys ever discussed what happened when you were younger?”

  “What is there to discuss?”

  I gaped at him. “The fact that she basically -”

  We were cut off by the sound of his cell ringing, and Noah reached over and grabbed it off the nightstand.

  “Cutler,” he barked into the phone, his normal greeting. I watched as the expression on his face went from annoyed, to interested, back to annoyed. “How did you get this number?” His eyebrows knit together and his jaw twitched in anger. “Yes, well, if Penn wants a meeting, he can call my office in the morning and set one up with my assistant.”

  My mouth went dry.

  For a moment, the realization that I’d been arrested for murder had left my mind. But now it came rushing back.

  “Is that Penn Dylan’s office?” I asked, even though it obviously was. “Why does he want a meeting?” My heart pounded in my chest. Why would the prosecutor be calling for a meeting? Did he want to offer me a plea deal already? Obviously, I wouldn’t take it. But I was still anxious for Noah to take the meeting. It would be the first chance we’d have to know what Penn Dylan was thinking, to get a read on his strategy.

  I tugged on Noah’s sleeve. “Take the meeting,” I whispered.

  He got up and disentangled himself from me. “Yes, well, my schedule is extremely busy tomorrow. If Penn would like to meet me for breakfast, I can meet him at 6am. I will have my assistant send the details, and you can pass it along to him.” Noah hung up and immediately began texting his assistant the information.

  “So there’s a meeting tomorrow?” I asked.

  “When I’m on the phone like that, Charlotte, you are not to interrupt me.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “But I thought that you were going to refuse to see him.”

  “I wasn’t going to refuse to see him.”

  “So then why did you -- oh.” I got it. Noah was trying to show that he wasn’t going to just be ordered around, that Penn Dylan wasn’t going to be able to just call the shots, requesting meetings on short notice and expecting Noah to come running.

  “You need to trust me.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. I said it flippantly, more as a joke, but his eyes lit as he took in my body dressed in just his t-shirt.

  He stood up, then slid his hands under my knees, picked me up like I was a bride he was carrying over the threshold.

  I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Our wedding would be on hold, I was sure. There was no way I could get married while I was accused of murder.

  He carried me to the bathroom, turned on the shower and as the steam rolled around us, he pulled off my shirt. I shivered under his gaze, even though he’d seen me naked a million times at this point.

  But something about being so exposed to him always made me slightly self-conscious, like he would somehow come to his senses and decide that he couldn’t figure out what he was doing with me.

  “God, you are so beautiful,” he said, taking my hips and gently pulling me toward him. I felt him hard against me as he kissed me, his tongue tangling with mine.

  He pulled off his pants and we climbed into the shower.

  He turned me around and spanked me softly on the ass as I pressed my cheek against the tile.

  “Is this okay?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Yes.”

  He angled me back toward him and entered me from behind, and his cock grew harder inside of me as my pussy clenched him like a fist. I raised my face to the warm water as it beat against my
skin, washing away the day.

  Noah pulled me back until I was flush against him.

  “A baby,” he said, sound breathless. His hand fanned around my abdomen.

  “Yes. A baby.”

  He pulled me back harder until he was all the way inside of me, filling me, and I gasped at the sensation, and the different angle he had on me from us standing up.

  “Look at me,” he said gruffly.

  I turned my head, and the look in his eyes stole the breath from my lungs.

  “I’m going to keep you safe,” he said. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” I knew he was talking about the murder investigation.

  “And I’m going to keep the baby safe.”

  “I know,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “I know you will.”

  “I love you,” he said, and he rocked inside of me, saying it over and over again, until finally we were both sated.

  * * *

  H alf an hour later , I was in bed, my hair wet, my iPad in my hand. It was still early – only seven o’clock, but the day had taken it out of me. I wasn’t sure if it was a coping mechanism or not, but I wanted to make sure that I tried to focus on what my life would be like after this nightmare was over.

  And that meant looking at law schools, so that I had something to focus on, a plan to be excited about. I wasn’t sure how law school would be possible with a baby, but I at least needed to look into it.

  If I let myself become paralyzed, my mind would go crazy.

  I needed to make sure that I kept moving.

  It had been the same way after my dad died.

  I would sometimes get this wave of depression or sadness, and it felt like even getting through the day was totally impossible. Even just the most mundane things seemed unbearably difficult.

  The days where I would give into that, and stay in bed, or end up sitting like a zombie in front of the TV, made it just worse.

  “I like seeing you in my bed,” Noah said, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he came into the room.

  “I like being in your bed,” I said.

  “Our bed,” he corrected himself.

  He leaned over and kissed me on the lips, softly at first, and then his tongue parted the seam, tangling with mine.

  “You cannot be serious,” I said, pulling back. “We’ve already had sex three times today.”

  “I can’t help it,” he said gruffly. “You’re just so sexy.”

  Noah’s phone rang.

  “Yes?” he said as he answered, his hand rubbing my calf. “Yes, the dog walker. She’s back with Docket? Thank you. My fiancé will be extremely happy to hear that.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone and brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “The dog walker is back with Docket.”

  “I want to meet her,” I said, standing up.

  “So you’re agreeing to keep her?”

  “Just until this is over,” I said. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a bra. As much as I didn’t like the idea of Docket being in the care of a stranger, just because we were going to be distracted didn’t mean that he should suffer.

  I followed Noah down the hall, wrapping my still-damp hair up into a loose ponytail.

  Noah opened the front door, and Docket came racing in, his nails clicking against the hardwood floor.

  He gave a happy little bark as he tumbled into the house. And then he did something he’d never done before. He sat down on the wooden floor and waited to get a pet.

  “Wow,” I said, scratching him behind the ears. “He’s already learned a new trick.”

  “We worked on sitting for pets instead of jumping,” a female voice said.

  I looked up to see a pretty girl of about my age, standing in the hallway. She had blond hair and side swept bangs. A tiny nose ring glittered in her nose, and she was wearing jeans and a purple and gray striped pullover sweater.

  “Hi,” she said, giving me a big smile. “You must be Charlotte. I’m Ivy.”

  I reached out and took her hand. It was cold and small, but everything else about her felt warm.

  “Thanks for taking him for a walk,” I said.

  “No problem,” she said. She glanced over at Noah nervously. Not that I could blame her – he was extremely intimidating. Even at home, dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, he was intimidating. He radiated power and masculinity, not to mention the expanse of his apartment, which was insanely decorated, and screamed of money.

  “Um, I want… I mean, I know that you probably aren’t thrilled to have someone else taking care of Docket, but I want you to know that I’m not going to step on any toes.” She glanced again at Noah, and I saw him sigh. He must have told her that I might be a problem.

  “Oh, really?” I said. “And where would you get that idea?”

  She looked uncomfortable, and I instantly felt bad.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just… I mean, no one told me that, it’s just that I know how it is when you have a dog that you love, and –”

  “I told her that, Charlotte,” Noah said, never one to mince words or waste time.

  “Really?” I feigned shock as Docket pushed his snout under my hand until I rubbed his head.

  “Yes, really.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m sure that Docket will be very happy and safe in your care.”

  “He will be!” Ivy said. “I promise. Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable, please let me know.” Her phone went off then, and she looked down at the text that popped up on her screen. As she raised her phone to look at it, I saw that the text was all in caps.

  And they kept coming.

  One after another.

  After another.

  I was too far away to see what they said, and it wasn’t like I was snooping – they were impossible not to notice.

  I watched as Ivy’s eyes opened wide and she quickly typed out a response on her phone. “I’m sorry,” she said. “One of my clients is having a dog emergency. I have to go.” Her voice was as cheerful as ever, but her face had totally changed. She looked… nervous, anxious, maybe even scared? But that was ridiculous. Why would she be scared of one of her clients?

  She gave Docket a pat on the head, said her goodbyes, and left.

  “Okay?” Noah said.

  “Okay.” I nodded.

  We were walking back to the bedroom when Noah got yet another phone call, this one from his own assistant. I didn’t bother to ask what the assistant’s name was or where she or he had come from after he’d fired the last one. Ever since I’d known him, Noah had a parade of different assistants, seemingly plucked from nowhere, appearing and disappearing without fanfare.

  “It’s like Grand Central Station here tonight,” I quipped as Docket jumped onto the bed and curled up at the bottom, sighing in contentment.

  “Yes,” Noah barked into the phone. “Yes. Okay. Yes… and the other appointment? Yes. Thank you.”

  He ended the call and looked at me. “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

  “It’s only seven thirty.”

  “Penn Dylan has agreed to meet me tomorrow for breakfast. Six am. And he’s requested you be there, too.”

  “Me?” I froze as Noah pulled down the covers for me and motioned me into the bed. I got in and he hooked his fingers under the sides of my yoga pants and I squirmed out of them. “Why?”

  Usually the clients didn’t go the meetings like this.

  “Because he’s obviously up to something,” Noah said.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.” Noah smoothed my hair back and kissed me softly on the forehead. “But I’m going to find out.” And then he noticed the look on my face. “Hey,” he said. “Don’t be scared.”

  “Of course I’m going to be scared, Noah.”

  He nodded, accepting this, but I could see the pain it caused him. He never wanted me to be anything but happy, even for a
second. “I’m going to keep you safe, remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes. I trust you.”

  He kissed me again, then clicked the light off and disappeared down the hall toward his office.

  * * *

  H e woke me again in the middle of the night, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me close.

  “Were you sleeping?” he murmured against my neck.

  “Sort of.” I cuddled back against him enjoying the warmth and solidness of his body.

  “I need to go running.”

  “I’ll stay here.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You’ll come with me.”

  I knew there was no way I was going to win that argument. He wouldn’t leave me in the apartment, I already knew that. Not alone. There was no way. I didn’t mind much. I’d been waking up every half hour, anyway.

  So we got up in the soft darkness of the apartment. Docket looked at us sleepily before sliding up the bed and curling up onto Noah’s pillow.

  For some reason, he preferred sleeping on Noah’s side of the bed.

  I pulled a sweatshirt on and the yoga pants I’d taken off earlier, then followed Noah down to the street.

  The car was waiting like it had been before.

  The streets were silent, or at least what passed for silent in New York. The reporters who had been outside had gone, at least for now. But I knew that it was only a matter of time before they came back, and there would probably be even more of them next time.

  I settled into the back of the limo, with a faceless, nameless man in the front of the car.

  Noah made sure I was settled inside, handed me my iPad. There was a blanket and a pillow on the seat.

  “I need to have you near me always,” he whispered against my lips. “If you can sleep, sleep.” He stood up and was about to close the door to the car, before he leaned back down and looked at me. “I’ve been thinking about your case tonight, going over everything before our meeting in the morning.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m reconsidering what I said about how you should put your life on hold.” He looked at me. “You are brilliant. And beautiful. And perfect. And you should not be forced to put your life on hold for this bullshit.” He looked angry at the end, and determined. “So look into law schools.”