Home > Built (Saints of Denver #1)(74)

Built (Saints of Denver #1)(74)
Author: Jay Crownover

I nearly tripped over my own feet at his words. I tightened my fingers on my phone and looked toward the front of the building. It felt like I was standing at the crossroads of my past and my future, and if I took one wrong step I would end up losing one and falling dangerously into the other.

I paused for a second instead of blurting out an automatic acceptance to be polite. I hadn’t particularly enjoyed hanging out with Nathan when I had been involved with him. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with the guy, he just hadn’t been as interesting as my work, and I hadn’t particularly missed him at all since we had been apart. It wasn’t like I was dying to reconnect and spend an awkward hour while he asked what I had been up to and I had to explain that I was exactly where I was when I left Seattle except for the fact that I now had a brother I loved, a roommate I would protect with my life, and a man who owned me but I was too scared to love back. I blew out a breath and replied honestly and truthfully.

“No. I don’t really want to catch up, Nathan.” There was no guilt, no worry or recrimination, because the woman I was now, the woman I was when I was with Zeb, didn’t need to feel bad for saying no. I didn’t want to see him and there was nothing outside of my own knee-jerk reaction to do what would be the easiest making me. It was liberating to say no with zero concern as to what his reaction would be.

He sighed on the other end of the phone and I looked at the screen of my cell to see what time it was. I still had a few minutes, but what was waiting for me in the courthouse was way more important to me than Nathan’s aggravation.

“God, Sayer, you’re still as cold as winter.”

I scoffed a little because I wasn’t anymore. The woman I was now ran both hot and cold, felt everything, including annoyance that he was egotistical enough to think his time was more valuable than mine. “No, Nathan, I’m not. What I am is busy.”

“You were always busy. That was what kept us from really connecting.”

I sighed heavily and paused as I reached the front doors of the courthouse. What kept us from connecting was the fact that I hadn’t loved him and he hadn’t loved me . . . not the real me anyway.

A flash of pink caught my eye, and I felt my mouth drop open in stunned shock when I saw the same young woman who had been giving Quaid hell the last time I was here come barreling out the doors. She was very pretty up close, in a surprisingly delicate way that didn’t go with her shocking hair color or the angry twist of her mouth. I couldn’t make out the color of her eyes as she flew past me, but I could see her eye makeup smeared across her face and the distinct tracks of tears on her face. Quaid was hot on her heels, looking as polished and professional as ever in a severe gray suit, minus the fact that his hair was standing up on the top of his head in a thousand directions like he had been pulling on it. He didn’t seem to notice me, and I was about to call out a greeting when I saw him reach out and pull the young woman to a stop by her arm. He spun her around, shouted something I couldn’t make out, which made me want to interrupt because he was obviously about to lose his cool. However, when I started to speak Quaid yanked the woman up on her tiptoes until they were lined up and his mouth was on hers.

I blinked in shock at the sight.

It was there as Quaid pulled the struggling girl closer and as she reluctantly gave in and curled her arms around his wide shoulders. The color. The risk. The more than love that people needed to be together forever. The more that made people strive to be better for the people that honestly cared about them. Quaid and the pink-haired firecracker appeared to be so wrong together. His divorce had jaded him and made him hard. She was too young for him and seemed so disillusioned. Not to mention that she was his client . . . his criminal client, but I could see something special in the way he handled her even as she jerked away from him and then slapped him across his too handsome face before stalking off; there was more there between them. It was vibrant. It sparked with life and it made me envy what I had willingly walked away from.

I missed everything about being with Zeb.

“Sayer?” I had forgotten all about Nathan on the other end of the phone and ducked inside the building before Quaid could catch sight of me witnessing his heated moment with the girl. I was shaken a little and I wasn’t really sure why.

“I’m getting ready to go through security. I have to go. I honestly hope that one day you meet someone who makes you want to do more, Nathan.”

I didn’t bother to explain beyond that. He muttered a sour-sounding good-bye, and I hung up so I could send everything through the X-ray and walk through the metal detector. I was nervous when I entered the room where Zeb and his family had been told to wait for me before the final ruling.

I tried to force it down but some of my anxiety must have shown on my face when my gaze locked on his dark green one because before I could rattle out a shaky hello, a lovely, dark-haired woman who could only be his mother was in front of me, forcing me to tear my eyes off him with her hand held out.

“Hello. I’m Melissa Fuller. I can’t tell you how grateful we are for all the work you’ve done to help Zeb and Hyde. We can’t wait to have him home for good.”

Zeb growled from across the room and his deep voice rumbled out a gruff “This is my attorney, Sayer Cole.” I didn’t miss the emphasis that he put on the word “attorney.” It made me cringe, even though that was the role I’d chosen to play in his life. It still prickled when he gave me what I wanted . . . or what I thought I wanted.

   
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