Sadie: I did not spend the night with Roman.
Marlee: That’s not true.
Kellie: You should text an ex. It always makes me feel better when I’m stressed.
Becca: Do not do that.
Marlee: They were taking care of Luke. Pretty sure it was platonic.
Kellie: Did Roman at least slip you a little tongue?
Becca: Do not answer that.
Marlee: Actually, yes, answer that.
Sadie: If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ignore you all now.
Becca: Are you okay?
Kellie: Don’t answer that. Just let us know when you finally stick your tongue down Roman’s throat again.
Marlee: Don’t do that.
Becca: Unless you want to.
Kellie: And if you do, we want to hear about it.
Sadie shoved her phone in the briefcase bag and trekked into Heather’s Cookie Co.
Pink and yellow polka dots adorned the windows. The place was perfectly perky as a cookie shop, but not so appropriate for a divorce proceeding. Even the hot-pink sign on the door that read Come In! We’re Open & Awesome! seemed the antithesis of what her clients were going through—even if Sadie herself adored the color combo.
Stepping through the front door, she expected the festive decor—she’d gotten used to it. The penis-shaped cookies on the counter, however, were not the norm.
Sadie stalled. She so totally needed a freaking office.
One in appropriately muted colors with no surprise cookies staring her in the face.
She sighed. Even if the office came with freaking Roman, his totally too-good-to-be-true offers, his charisma, and his brown eyes.
“Hi, Sadie.” Tonya turned from her examination of the cookies.
Sadie hadn’t been sure what to expect of a client who met her soon-to-be ex-husband through a fish-enthusiast chat forum. She did know she hadn’t expected her to be quite so Tonya. Tonya was one of those stunning women who could be picked out of a crowd by talent scouts and sent on an extravagant modeling gig in the Big Apple. The kind of woman with high cheekbones, perfect bone structure, and a face that was as symmetric as they came.
“They’re dressed like police officers, how interesting is that?” Tonya asked.
“So interesting.” Sadie held her hand out to her client.
Tonya shook it. “Who would’ve thought to use handcuffs that way?”
The handcuffs were placed at a unique angle along the waist area of the cookies, making it appear as though they actually had their own—
“I know, right?” Sadie replied.
She knew Heather had an underground following for inappropriately shaped cockies (as Heather called them). She just usually didn’t store them on top of the case like that.
“So sorry.” A blushing cashier pulled the tray away. “I grabbed the wrong tray. Wasn’t paying attention. So, so sorry.”
“Can I buy a few of those?” Tonya leaned over the case.
“Absolutely,” the girl chirped.
“I’ll just meet you in the…” Sadie pointed toward the hot-pink birthday room.
“Be right there.” Tonya was already making her choices from the police officer selection.
One solid intake of the pink walls and Sadie gave in. She texted Roman to arrange some office-seeking time.
When a couple met on welovebigfish.com and they combined their tanks of exotic aquatic life, what could they expect when the inevitable divorce kicked in?
A custody dispute, that’s what.
However, eating a dick-shaped cookie while discussing custody arrangements was a new one for Sadie.
Sadie read through the…names…on Tonya’s list.
Each and every one of the forty-seven fish had their own name and description, including line items listing the ones who liked each other, mated with each other, or had personal issues with one another. The list started with Roger, the most expensive of the batch. He came with a hefty tens-of-thousands-of-dollars price tag.
He favored Tonya and, according to her, got really upset when she and Rex argued, which happened often before the separation.
Roger’s distress was the catalyst for the separation.
“No arguments near the fish habitat,” Sadie mumbled, jotting down the first point of Tonya’s requests. “How far is near? We’ll need to be specific.”
“Just not close.” Tonya nibbled at the edge of the handcuffs on her cookie.
Tonya had grabbed one for Sadie, too. She hadn’t touched it. Not yet. It looked great, really, it did. But biting into it seemed like a violation of legal ethics or something.
“What if we say ten feet?” Sadie asked. “Reasonable?”
Tonya nodded.
Sadie jotted down a note to find out if there was such a thing as anxiety medication for aquatic animals—just as a potential alternative if Rex balked at the ten-feet rule.
“Have you thought about time splits?” Sadie flipped over to the next page of her yellow legal pad.
They couldn’t move the fish frequently without shocking their systems, so Tonya proposed that both parents (Sadie used that term loosely) would share custody by moving in and out of the home.
“They’re accustomed to me most of the time.”
“Are you thinking every other weekend for Rex?” That worked often in custody arrangements that involved children where one parent was the primary caregiver.
“That would work.” Tonya dipped her cookie into her coffee, the liquid dribbling off the tip.
Sadie glanced away, giving the cookie a moment to get itself together.
“I also don’t want him to bring women over. It’ll totally confuse the kids.” Tonya chomped down on the end.
“And you won’t have men over either?” Sadie tried to keep her focus on her pen and paper—really, she did.
Tonya shook her head, dipping and lapping up the coffee from the cookie.
“Eventually, you’ll both probably have new partners,” Sadie pointed out.
“Then we’ll need to take time to explain to the kids how things are.” Tonya shifted uncomfortably. “Also, can you add that we can’t have…” She made a motion with her cookie and Sadie got the message. “…in view of the tanks.”
“To be clear, you mean sex.”
Tonya nodded.
Sadie wrote a side note—a subsection to number two—that there shall be no liaisons where the fish could see.
Of course, number three stated that no sushi or other fish-based ingestible products—including fish oil—are allowed in the home, under any and all circumstances.
Of all the points, this one made the most sense to Sadie.
They wrapped up the meeting, Tonya went on her way, and Sadie headed to meet Roman.
Her phone rang. She paused her trip down the sidewalk and glanced at the caller ID—her office line.
She seriously needed that space. Also, a receptionist.
“Law Office of Sadie Howard, Sadie Howard speaking,” she said, once again ducking to the side.
“Hi Ms. Howard,” a female voice replied. “I’m looking for a divorce attorney and our mutual friend Marlee suggested I call you.”
God bless Marlee.
Also, yay, another client.
A maybe client.
“Absolutely.” Sadie fished a notepad out of her purse. “Let me just get some details and we can schedule a consultation.”
Sadie restrained her excitement as she jotted down the woman—Karen’s—details.
“Let’s sit down face-to-face and go over everything,” Sadie suggested. The sidewalk in Cherry Creek wasn’t the best place to be delivering any sort of personal legal advice. Sort of like the birthday room at Heather’s Cookie Co.
“Where’s your office? I can come there?” Karen asked. “Today would be great if you can spare some time.”
“I’m actually all booked up today, but let me see if I can squeeze you in tomorrow?” Sadie asked. “I can come to you?”
“Oh, I don’t have an office. I’d be more comfortable meeting at your location.”
Looked like it’d be another cookie meeting.
“Sure,” Sadie said. “Let me just see how tomorrow looks, and I’ll be in touch.” Sadie walked purposely toward the flower shop where she was set to meet Roman.
Hanging up with Karen, she strode through the doors of Jase Dvornakov’s shop, The Flower Pot. A cowbell clunked against the glass door when she entered, and the whole place held a fresh floral scent, an insane amount of flowers, and the undertone of eau de hot Dvornakov men.
Roman, Jase, and their brother, Zach, were all shooting the shit, sitting on stools around the flower-arranging station in the middle of the room.
Three Dvornakovs in one room? Wowsa.
She paused, her heart beating faster at the sight of Roman.
He looked rather rested for getting no sleep.
The weight on her chest pressed harder against her lungs. All three sets of Dvornakov eyes focused on her.
She forced a bold smile. The office was the priority, not her body’s reaction to Roman.
“Hey, all,” she said.
“Sadie. What can I do you for?” Jase asked, standing.
Wasn’t he supposed to be on his honeymoon?
“I’m just meeting Rome,” Sadie said. “Are you supposed to be here?”
“Yup.” Jase nodded. “I own the joint.”
“I meant the honeymoon thing.” Sadie dropped her purse on the stool next to Roman.
“They did the weekend away in Estes Park thing,” Zach said.
“Followed by the upcoming three weeks in Italy thing,” Jase added.
“Sadie,” Roman said, moving to face her. “Long time.”
“Ha,” she replied.
Zach glanced between Roman and Sadie. He seemed to catch the vibe. Really, the chemistry was hard to miss, even for someone as averse to it as Sadie.
It clearly dawned on Zach that there was more than what met the eye between Roman and Sadie, because he shoved his brother’s arm and said, “Nice.”
Roman shoved him back harder. Zach had to catch himself and not biff it by falling off the stool onto the floor.
Aside from the predatory smile, Roman seemed unaffected by her appearance. His heart rate was apparently not going bananas the way hers was. Nope, he was all calm, cool Dvornakov. How was that possible?
“What are you and Rome up to this fine morning?” Jase asked.
“He’s showing me some office space.” Sadie moved toward the crew as though Roman and his proximity didn’t affect her at all.
“It’s Babushka’s building,” Zach chimed in. “He should probably disclose that. If you don’t know Babushka, you definitely need a briefing before you decide to go all in with one of her spaces.”
That was definitely noteworthy. Sadie noted it.
“She knows Babushka,” Roman said. He still had that monotone quality to his voice. The one that made her edgy.
“What’s with you?” Zach asked. “Somebody piss in your cornflakes?”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Roman kept that stare tucked tight on Sadie.
Jase took in his brothers, then Sadie. “This is gonna suck—”
“Office is up the street.” Roman cut off his brother. “My grandmother went in on property with a bunch of her friends. They live next door at the retirement home and manage the place. I help them out with that.”
“What he means is they give him a master key and he lifts heavy shit,” Zach said cheerfully. “Shit they can’t lift.”
Roman stood, ignoring his brother. “Let’s head over. I’ll give you a tour.”
“Seriously, dude,” Jase tried again. “You need to reconsider how this is going to affect the rest of us—”
“Knock it off.” Roman finally broke his monotone. “Before I kick your ass.”
“I’d like to see that.” Jase didn’t seem to think that Roman could do it.
Sadie wasn’t really sure who she’d put her money on. They were evenly matched when it came to size and height, but Jase seemed a little spunkier, while Roman was certainly more serious about his commitment to kick butt.
“Sadie, you might want to back up,” Zach suggested, standing and moseying over near her. “Sometimes it gets bloody when these two start in on each other. No one wants to have to get blood out of cotton.”
No, Sadie did not want to get blood out of cotton. She took a step back. She’d witnessed one Jase-versus-Roman brawl in her lifetime, and that was plenty.
Come to think of it, that one had pretty much been a draw once their mother got involved.
“I’m not gonna kick his ass right now. I’ve got an office to show.” Roman strode past Jase and gave him a friendly little shove in the center of his chest. “I’ll save it for later.”
Jase shoved back. Hard.
Roman shoved back. Harder.
Okay, so clearly this was a thing between brothers. Sadie wouldn’t know since she only had the one. Plenty of sisters though. The Howards weren’t really a push and shove kind of family.
“Later,” Roman said. “C’mon Sadie.”
Roman held the door as she slipped through the opening. Now that he was close, it only took one burst of Roman’s masculine scent for Sadie’s breasts to suddenly feel heavier. Her skin itched to reach out and touch him, and her breaths were shallow. To top it all off, there were totally unnecessary butterflies flitting through her body and finally settling in her belly.
This was ridiculous. Her body was responding to him and he wasn’t even touching her.
“I really appreciate you showing me the space,” she said, ignoring her body’s response.
“No problem,” he replied.
He didn’t say anything else.
She trotted beside him, keeping his pace.
“It was nice hanging out with you last night,” she said, a strange need to fill the silence taking precedence over her desire to keep distance from him.
“I like Luke.” He shrugged and kept walking.
She gulped. “Your favorite Howard?”
He shrugged and his voice took that middle-of-the-night quality that soothed her so well. “Depends on the day.”
He moved double-time, but Sadie kept pace. He’d been muscular before. She hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to become more muscular, but here he was, proving her wrong.
Age agreed with Roman.
The little crinkles that fanned beside his eyes gave him an air of experience. The black T-shirt he wore stretched over his broad chest and covered part of that new tattoo she’d noticed before.
Louise.
The vines that traced up his arm wrapped around the artistic ink of Louise.
Sadie gulped down the ridiculous jealousy she felt toward his camera. He could get tattoos of whatever he wanted. It was no longer her business.
Truly, it’d never been her business.
“Why’d you get a tat of Louise?” Sadie heard herself ask. Crap, she wasn’t really going to go there. She didn’t need to know any more about Roman than she already did. Yet, here she was, asking away.
He glanced at the ink peeking from under his sleeve. “Felt like the right thing to do after all we’d been through.”
“Makes sense,” Sadie said. For the record, it did not make sense.
Roman stopped talking long enough for the silence to stretch before he spoke again. “We were grabbing snaps of a routine mission when things went to shit. Louise caught the glint of the metal when I was clicking.” He slid his gaze to Sadie. “Machine gun. Not our guys.”
Holy crap. She knew he’d been in bad situations, but she’d never thought too much on what those might be.
“We did not see them coming, but she did. That non-complex mission got complex quick.” He patted the tattoo, took a breath, and soldiered on. “Didn’t think we’d make it out. We had to change our plans.”
His jaw ticked and Sadie wished she could reach over and touch the image of Louise.
“Bunch of soldiers took bullets.” He squinted behind his sunglasses. “Everyone survived though, thanks to Louise. I commemorated the experience with ink.”
“So the vines…?” she asked.
“We were in the jungle.” His shoulder lift indicated it was no big deal, but the visible pounding of the pulse in his throat told the truth for him.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, and she meant it.
He slowed his pace after she spoke.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you today,” he said. The angles of his jawline drew her attention away from the imprint of Louise. She’d forgotten how his jaw worked when he was deep in thought.
“Yeah?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”
Sadie had been thinking a lot about him, too.
Roman nudged her arm with his elbow. “Maybe we should babysit again together. This time without the kid.”
“That would be a date,” Sadie pointed out.
“And?” he asked
And apparently, he was asking her out.
“Rome, I was serious when I told you that my career is my life. Especially right now.”
That got his attention. He slowed further, seemingly trying to stretch their walk to take more time. “Why now?”
She couldn’t tell him about her silly superstition. As Marlee had said recently, it wasn’t one case to decide them all. Still, though, once Sadie got through this one, she could move forward with the confidence she knew she deserved.
“It’s ridiculous,” Sadie said.
“I’m sure it’s not.” Roman didn’t push further though.
“I’m also spending a lot of time with Luke.” She held up her fingers as she counted. “And I moved into my apartment. Still getting settled there.” Those were two additional things. “And I’m trying to adjust to being back in Denver.” Four full things to divert her attention from him.
“You like to do shit on your own, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question. He also didn’t look at her as he spoke. His focus stayed straight ahead.
And yes, generally, she did prefer to get things done by herself.
At least then she’d know they were done correctly.
His loose-limbed gait was easy. Some might even call it cocky. He glanced at her then, but she couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t get a read on them, since they were covered with sunglasses.
“When we’re done here, you want to grab some grub?” he asked.
She paused.
“Platonic grub,” he assured.
“I can’t.” She shook her head.
“Did you know when you’re not exactly telling the truth, your nose scrunches up, just the tiniest amount?” he asked, looking straight ahead again.
Did it? No, that couldn’t be right.
“It does not.”
“Totally does.”
Sadie crossed her arms across her chest. “You’re just grouchy because I shot you down.”
“Nah, I’m grouchy because you want to go, but you still shot me down.”
“I don’t want to go,” she huffed.
Maybe she did. Just a little.
He raised his eyebrows over the rim of the sunglasses. “You’re doing the nose-scrunch thing.”
“Fine, I would love to go grab some ‘grub’ with you, but I have to figure out how to set up an entire office out of nothing so I can meet with clients there tomorrow.”
“See, this is communication and communication is good. I will gladly help you set up your new office. We can order in.”
“I didn’t ask you for help.”
“You didn’t have to. I offered.”
“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”
Roman stopped. He turned. “I’m going to be straight with you.”
“Ooookay.”
“I want a shot with you.”
Yes, he’d made that perfectly clear.
“Rome—”
“I know, you’re married to your career. I’m good with that. I do not mind being the other man in this situation.”
“I’m not in an open relationship with my career.” Was this conversation really happening?
“Maybe you should reconsider it. I can meet needs that your career can’t even think about.”
Oh, for goodness’ sake. Sadie knew all about the needs he could meet. Her cheeks burned at the thought of how nice that might actually be.
“My needs are handled,” she said.
Somewhat.
Roman lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Oh yeah?”
He only said those two words, yet they held a whole lotta innuendo.
“Yes,” she said, defiant.
“Then why did your nose scrunch when you said it?”
Sadie’s cheeks felt flushed. “Seriously, is this about sex?”
“No.” Roman dropped his sunglasses back in place, loping back up the street. “It’s also about eating. What are we having for lunch?”
“If I have lunch with you, are you going to stop talking about having sex with me?”
“No.”
Sadie graduated at the top of her law class, won debates consistently, and was the queen of the comeback.
Yet, she had no witty response for Roman.
“I’m a Dvornakov. We bond over vodka and food. Usually at the same time. I’d like to bond with you.”
What on earth was she supposed to say to that?
They arrived at a four-story red brick building with a turnstile entrance and neat rows of potted plants lining the walkway—the kind so vibrant and flush with greenery that it must’ve taken a full gardening team to manage them. Already, the building was an improvement over hot pink with yellow polka dots and penis-cookies.
Roman opened the door, waited for Sadie to enter, and… Oh yes, this place was nice. A fountain trickled in the background of the atrium area. At the top of the stone centerpiece was a giant seashell pulsing water over a coral feature that poured into an oversized etched stone bowl, ending in a pool of blue water surrounded by a stone bench.
Which meant…
“This place is out of my budget.” It would continue to be until she brought on several partners, it seemed.
Roman slid his sunglasses on top of his head. “You don’t even know what the rent is.”
“There’s a big-ass fountain.” She gestured to the pennies, dimes, and even quarters scattered in the water.
“I figured that’s a selling point.”
“I’m not at the fountain stage of my revamped career.”
Her law firm in Chicago had a fountain like this in the foyer. She’d totally taken it for granted.
“Maybe I can help with that. Because, Sadie, you deserve fountains. Life should be fountains and wishes. You deserve all the wishes.” His thoughtful words pulled on her crumbs of hope.
Emotion clogged Sadie’s throat. “You really think that?”
She hadn’t had fountains in a long, long time. When was the last time she’d even taken the time to stop and make a wish?
“I do”—his deep voice went deeper—“think that.”
Roman had seen the worst of what people could do to each other. Worse than what she’d witnessed in the courtrooms of Chicago.
“How can you see what you’ve seen and still believe in fountains and wishes?” she asked.
“Because there has to be more than the bullshit of reality when some asshole is shooting at you.” He stared at his boots. “I’ve had that. Each second matters, Sadie. You can live your life recording moments for others behind the camera or managing them in a courtroom, but at some point, you have to take control for yourself.”
Oh.
“Why don’t you show me the office.” Sadie started toward the bank of elevators next to a staircase.
Roman followed, his hand in the space behind her back, not touching, but close.
If he’d just move past that centimeter of air and let his palm rest against her, then maybe she could believe in wishes, too.
“This way.” He dropped his hand and pulled a keychain from his pocket, starting up the staircase.
They arrived at a thick wooden door and Roman twisted the key in the lock until it clicked. He pushed open the door.
Lovely. The office was adorable with furniture already in place in the little waiting area. Not even second-hand furniture. He hadn’t mentioned the place came furnished.
That alone would save her a decent chunk.
A metal reception desk sat at one side of the waiting room and there was one office with its own door. Paint wasn’t chipped—also, not hot pink. The gray-patterned carpet felt new.
This was definitely fountain worthy.
There was even room against one of the walls for her own fish tank. With all the research she’d been doing for Tonya, a school of her own sounded like a great low-maintenance idea.
“We all share the conference room near the elevator.” He flicked on a light. “There’s a notebook outside the door for scheduling. It’s old school. We use pen and paper, so don’t expect to be able to sign up online or anything.”
Pulling open the curtains to let light into the space, he looked out the window and gave a little wave. Sadie glanced out the clear glass that didn’t even have water spots from last week’s downpour.
A group of elderly women were on the back patio of the retirement home waving back.
“You’ll probably want to keep the curtains closed most of the time.” Roman pulled them tight. “We also share the break room. It’s not much. One of the ladies also owns the vending machines, so they have a strict no chips and soda in the break room—outside of what the machines provide—rule. They also get testy if they find out you’re storing soda in your office, so be sure to lock that shit up tight.”
Sadie drifted around the office. It wasn’t huge. Actually, it was kind of small compared to her old space in Chicago.
But it would be hers. Her own practice coming to reality. Who needed a partnership in a fancy Chicago law firm when she could have all this to herself?
She ran her fingertip along the edge of the desk.
“How much?” Her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
“What can you afford?”
“I can afford free legal advice.”
Roman chuckled, coming beside her. His scent of cinnamon and orange had a subtle undertone of something cool.
She wanted to lean into him.
She didn’t. Instead, she turned and looked up at him. She generally kept her poker face firmly in place. Yet, suddenly, she really wanted this office. “Seriously, how much?”
He named a price that was well below the average for the area, adding, “And I’m certain the owners would appreciate your legal help on an as-needed basis.”
“It should be snapped up at that rate.”
He peeked out through the curtains toward the patio of the retirement home. “We’re selective in what businesses come into the building, so we don’t advertise the offices.” He leveled a stare her way. “I trust you.”
“Will they?”
“They trust me. I trust you.”
That was nice, but— “I’m still writing up an agreement. So it’s clear what I can offer.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Roman’s gaze sparkled, and the light shone through the edge of the curtain covering the window like a promise.
“You know, you’re totally saving my bacon here,” Sadie said.
He grinned. “I happen to like your bacon. I’d like another go at your bacon.”
For the second time in an hour, Sadie Howard blushed.
Sadie never blushed.
Roman seemed to bring that out in her. Frequently.
“That didn’t sound at all like what I meant.” Roman toed at the carpet. “The bacon part, but I definitely meant the part about spending some time together without the baby.”
She couldn’t. They’d had their chance. It had failed. Doing a repeat would only make everything hurt worse when it failed again.
“Where’s your office?” she asked, avoiding his request.
He gave a resigned sigh. “Other end of the building. Same floor.”
She could live with that.
“I want to make this office happen.” She pressed her hands against her waist and did a slow spin, taking it all in. Yes, this would work just fine.
He jerked his head toward the doorway. “Let’s go talk to Babushka.”