Her sporty metallic blue Celica eased into her assigned spot minutes later, and she bounded into the office, noting she had beaten Jason for the umpteenth time in a row. On second thought, she wouldn’t need the change. Per their standing bet about beating each other to work, the drinks would be on him. The Hadley Brothers, Esq. offices were located in a remodeled Victorian home, and Jason had tried, in decorating, to retain the homey feel. He had achieved that goal, Kate felt, although she regularly bemoaned the necessity of chopping up yet another old house into offices or apartments. As it was Sunday, the first thing she turned on after the lights was the boom box she kept hidden in her bottom drawer, full of heavy metal CDs not meant for clients’ ears. Steven Tyler loudly rhapsodized about the benefits of sex in an elevator as she let herself into Jace’s office and habitually straightened his “piles”.

She stepped back into her own office – really not hers, but she’d gradually usurped it over the past few years after Mathew left -. Don’t go there! Ruthlessly, she squelched even the thought of Jason’s over-bearing (rugged), domineering (muscular), arrogant (sexy-as-hell) brother. He’d exiled himself to Chicago, and Chicago could have him, Kate thought irrationally.

Anxious to occupy her thoughts with something other than the tall, dark, and brooding subject of her more sensual dreams, she went to what was laughingly referred to as the “break room” – a more likely description would be “closet”, but it sufficed - and put on a pot of coffee. As usual, she sang along with Steven on every word of her favorite songs – unembarrassed at her atrocious singing abilities, and even swaying or moving her hips in time to the beat, which was just about as close to dancing as she got as dancing made her too self-conscious.

As she and the singer reached a loud, emotional crescendo, she screamed when she heard a loud “harrumph” from behind her. Coffee grounds in the scoop she was holding flew everywhere, as she rounded, can in hand, ready to threaten Jason with bodily injury for sneaking up on her like that, then promptly dropped the can at the sight.

Matthew Pierce Hadley was not known for his sense of humor – although she knew he possessed a wicked wit and appreciation for puns and plays on words in particular – but there he stood, not four feet infront of her, hands folded across an impossibly broad chest, trying unsuccessfully to fight an outright grin. She tried not to notice how the fabric of what must have been a $1000 suit pulled slightly to accommodate his burly, muscular frame. Kate swallowed hard, suddenly wary and without an intelligent thought in her head.

She was grateful for the opportunity to bend legs that she didn’t know would hold her up to clean the coffee off the floor. He didn’t offer to help, making things worse with his silent inspection. Mentally, she gave herself a pep talk, took a very deep, slow breath to calm her rapid pulse, and went back to making coffee. If he wasn’t going to say anything, neither was she.

Joe Perry’s blaring guitar licks ceased seconds later, and she knew he was in her office. Somehow, that was in itself a violation, but she stayed put, waiting for the coffee that she certainly didn’t need to keep herself awake any more. She’d be lucky if she slept for the duration of whatever stay he intended – hopefully, a mercifully short one.

On her way out of the break room, she gave herself another pep talk, straightening her shoulders and gritting her teeth, repeating incessantly the mantra that she wasn’t going to let him get to her – their ill-fated affair had been over for years, and he no longer had any affect on her. Yeah, right. Her determination slipped some when she found he had made himself comfortable on the overstuffed sofa in her office, but she didn’t glance at him once as she proceeded to bring up on her computer some documents she was working on.

“You didn’t get me a cup?”

Here five seconds and already ordering her around. How typically Matthew. He barked orders – as if he were still in the Marines – and expected that the world would obey. Kate barely spared him a glance while typing . . . badly. One eyebrow skyward, sarcasm dripped from every word, “Funny, you don’t look like your legs are broken.”

He left and she took her first full breath in what seemed like hours, slumping behind the computer until she heard him walking back. She could see out of the corner of her eye as he divested himself of his suit coat, and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling them up like he was going to chop wood or something, then settling down again, facing her, on the near side of the couch. Kate knew his gaze had settled on her the moment he entered the room, and it made her that much more nervous. The document she was typing would need so much help from Spell Check that it’d probably wear it out.

“You let your hair grow.” Oh, God, he had deepest, softest growl . . .

It wasn’t the comment he really wanted to make, but then he wasn’t doing what he really wanted to do, either, or she’d be sprawled underneath him this moment on the couch - Don’t go there, he thought, his body coming to instant attention at his thoughts. But the comment had the desired effect – the incessant clicking of keys ceased. She had yet to look him in the eye, except that first, startled moment. He watched interestedly as she opened a drawer of the desk he used to use and pulled out a ring of fabric. His gaze followed her graceful movements as she gathered that glorious hair in a ponytail then twisted it up at the back of her neck, securing it with the elastic. It was a dig at him, because she knew how much he loved her hair to be long and loose, but her movements only heightened his body’s response as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward with every turn and twist. He adjusted his position to hide his condition, smiling to himself at her pique.

Suddenly, his ears were assailed with more of that awful banshee wailing about a rag doll, but he hadn’t seen her touch the boom box, which was on the edge of her desk. No, the sounds were coming directly from the computer. He snorted. Outfoxed, but not for long, as he scanned the room and found the socket the computer was plugged into, and casually pulled the plug from behind her.

“What the hell!!!!” Kate was staring at a suddenly blank screen. None of the lights were lit on her brand new computer!!! Jason was going to have a fit if she’d killed this one, too. “Sonofabitch.” She was reaching for her phone when she saw him standing there, twirling the plug between his thumb and forefinger. For some reason, her thoughts fixated on that picture, and related it to how it felt when he twirled various parts of her anatomy in just that way. Suddenly, the room was completely devoid of oxygen. She felt flushed all over, and dammit, she wasn’t going to take it any more!

“Are you out of what little mind you possess? Hello, can you say ‘lost computer files’, or is that too many syllables?”

“I hope the ones that get lost are the ones with that screaming whatever on it –“

“I was working on a document!!”

“Not for long enough to have accomplished anything, and if you’re smart, you have a copy on a disk. If you’re not smart enough to back up your work, let that be a lesson.” He literally watched her back come up, which was new. Two or three years ago, she would never have considered raising her voice to him, much less using profanity of any sort, knowing that he disliked it from males – including himself – and especially females. Now she was practically yelling at him, and he had a feeling that if she thought she could shoulder the weight she would have physically removed him from her office. Interesting.

Just when she thought he could not possibly be any more infuriating, he proved her wrong and topped himself. She managed to surprise him again by making a grab for the plug, but missed. “Give me the fucking plug.” His eyebrow rose at the profanity, but he didn’t move to comply.

“No more Aerosmith,” he countered.

Sinking back into her chair (his old chair), she nodded, her forehead resting on her fingertips. She heard the beep of her computer starting but didn’t move.

“Got a headache?” he asked, still in position at the end of her desk.

She knew that melt-butter, sensuous tone better than she ought. Kate straightened, addressing the computer. “Yeah, if I give you two aspirins will you go away?”

Before he had a chance to reply, Jason burst into the office as if he expected to have to deter a potential nuclear holocaust. “I-I, uh, hoped to beat you two here.”

Kate got up, giving Matthew an exaggeratedly wide berth, saying, “Soda’s on you today, Boss.”

“Thanks for coming in, Kate.”

“No problem.”

Kate went into Jason’s office, where he usually briefed her on whatever it was they were doing working on a Sunday. To her consternation, Matthew followed her in. It was as if he owned the place, she snorted to herself.

Kate settled herself on the near edge of the couch, and Matthew immediately took the other end. His close proximity made it hard for her to concentrate on what Jason was saying, but his body language was an interesting clue. There wasn’t much that made Jason nervous, but he was pacing like a caged cat.

He glanced sheepishly at Kate. “I bet you’re wondering why he’s here.”

She raised her eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

Jace came to sit on the coffee table infront of her. “We – I’m in trouble, Kate. I mean, the practice is. Money problems.”

Kate leaned toward Jason, patting his shoulder comfortingly. “I know it’s been lean around here lately, Jace, but – “

Matthew grimace at the cozy familiarity the two shared. She hadn’t looked at him like that since - .

“Lean is putting it nicely, Honey. It’s failing, and -,” he decided to spill the beans all at once, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Matthew has agreed to come back and be my partner again for a while. He can infuse some cash into the business and help me get back on my feet.” Kate looked shell-shocked, and he hurried on. “I need your help in this as much as I need his, Kate. I need you to work for the both of us.”

The two men watched as she suddenly got up and went over to the window behind Jason’s big desk. She peered up between the blinds furtively. “What are you looking at, Kate?” Jason was afraid to ask.

She turned her head back and forth, as if scanning the sky for an airplane. “I’m looking for the pigs. They must be flying if you expect me to work for him.”

Kate heard Jason’s heavy sigh, and Matthew’s impolite guffaw. “I take it that’s a ‘no’?” Jason’s voice was soft with defeat.

“Got it in one,” she answered, just as softly, almost hesitantly as she realized that this would really be the end of a fabulous working relationship. And, dammit, she really didn’t want to leave. If he’d partnered with anyone other than his brother – anyone short of Attila the Hun – she’d have made any sacrifice to help him save the firm. Hell, she felt that it was just as much hers as his.

But on Matthew, there would be no compromise. She wouldn’t – she couldn’t – emotionally, handle working with him. It would destroy her, as it almost had once before. They were combustible together, sexually, but oil and water when it came to what they wanted out of life. Kate was too old fashioned and conservative, and wanted a husband and children. Matthew wanted the sex with no entanglements, emotional or otherwise.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” Kate began to walk slowly out of the office as she spoke.
“My resignation will be on your desk tomorrow morning. I’ll call tonight and see if Amy would like the position.” Amy would mow over her mother for a chance to be close to Jason on a daily basis, but he couldn’t seem to see that. She was at least as competent as Kate, and had filled in for her on the rare occasions that she’d been sick.

Kate walked stiffly out of the office, barely stopping to grab her purse while high
tailing it out of there. She drove straight home, only to sit in her car in the driveway of her small Victorian house and ball uncontrollably for several minutes before she could gather herself together enough to slouch inside. There had been a time she had sworn she’d shed her last tear over Matthew Hadley, but apparently she’d been premature. History was repeating itself, much to her horror. With no one’s comforting arms around her, she hugged a couch pillow, sobbing, until Pooky - her Rotweiller mix - realized that her beloved mistress was distressed, and came to lick away the tears with warm, wet strokes of her agile tongue. Not to be outdone, Butch, the mighty Boston Terrier, launched himself into her lap, a small black and white wiggling bundle of unconditional support.

Surrendering to the gentle, heartfelt ministrations of her menagerie – minus Tasia, the Siamese brat-cat who was probably asleep on “their” bed – Kate slid onto the floor and let the pack comfort her in the best way they knew how – togetherness.

Several hours later, she had thrown herself into cleaning the apartment in her rattiest attire – torn gray sweats and a too big t-shirt that read “Of all the things I’ve ever lost, I miss my mind the most.” She was sweaty and tired and cranky and still a little weepy, but the house was spotless, every knick-knack in her vast and varied collection that was displayed artfully about the house – Lladro, hardback copies from her favorite authors, and various types and sizes of candy dispensers – had been dusted, polished, or scrubbed to within an inch of its life. Those that can, do, and those that are emotional basket cases, clean.

The doorbell distracted her from her last chore, dusting. Endust and dirty dust rag in hand, she asked, “Who is it?”

The growl answered for him. “Let me in.” No ‘it’s me,’, no ‘may I come in’, just a bare command.

Kate took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, then resignedly opened the door, knowing that he would never go away on his own, and that it was quite possible that, if she refused, he would simply kick it in. Facing imminent unemployment, she didn’t need to have to pay to get her front door replaced. Matthew stalked into the living room, then turned to look back at her. He had obviously taken the time to change from his atrociously expensive suit into well-worn jeans and a black polo shirt. Kate closed the door then resumed dusting as if he wasn’t there.

“What kind of stupid grandstand play was that at Jason’s office?”

Trust Matthew to cut to the chase. “It wasn’t a grandstand play. I meant every word I said.”

She gave him her back and continued wiping the oak furniture, but Kate knew his chin had jutted out abnormally, as it always did when they fought. “You mean you’re going to cut and run when he needs you the most?” He knew he’d struck a nerve when the rag stopped moving for a few seconds, then resumed. The “again” in that sentence remained unsaid between them.

“Amy is extremely competent, likes Jason, and knows the office routine. She’ll fit in fine.”

There came an inarticulate growl from behind her, but she kept right on dusting. “Are you going to stop that and talk to me?” Patience had never been one of Matthew’s virtues.

Kate glided by where he stood like a granite statue, massive arms folded over massive chest, to kneel infront of the oak coffee table. “I have nothing to say to you,” she looked directly at him for the first time since he’d gotten there, all cold and disdainful over the tops of her glasses. “I think we said everything we ever needed to three years ago. I know I haven’t anything to add.”

He should have been loads more patient. More understanding. More sensitive. But when it came down to it, in the big bad real world, it was eat or be eaten. Matthew wasn’t a man to stand around and watch, and he’d never done a very good Alan Alda impression. As the thought was forming in his mind, he found himself kneeling infront of her, throwing the rag and Endust into the middle of the floor and pulling her warm, soft body to his. Matthew’s mouth found hers unerringly, bending her back slightly so that she had to lean against him for balance. His body became instantly capable, and it was as if the past three years had never happened. They’d always been like wildfire together, and now was no different. He knew her body would recognize its master.

Kate struggled to get out of his embrace more out of reflex than truly wanting to be released. She’d almost – almost – forgotten how overwhelming he was physically, and how completely her body responded to his masculine demands. He quelled her slight rebellion easily by tightening those muscle-bound arms gently, and deepened the kiss.

She was drowning in a sexual need that was so profound it was achingly painful. This was what he had always been able to do to her. With him, she was always on the edge, as if just a look, just a touch from him could set off the fireworks he always roused in her body – and vice versa.

Slowly, Matthew lay back on the plush mauve carpet, carefully taking both their weights so that she was lying half ontop of him, never disconnecting their eager mouths. If the phone hadn’t rung at just that moment, Kate knew with a distinct clarity that she’d’ve ended up in bed with him, no questions asked.

“Saved by the bell,” she muttered under her breath, running to catch the call before the answering machine. She didn’t care if it was a telemarketer, whoever it was she was going to spend a good long time on the phone with them.

“Hello?”

“Kate?” It was Jace.

“Hello, Jason.”

“I just called to tell you that Matt’s on his way –“

Kate snorted indelicately.

“Oh.” He sounded so defeated. “A day late and a dollar short again, huh?”

“Yup.”

“You two fighting?”

“Uh, no. Not yet,” she blushed furiously at what they had been doing.

“Well, I’ll let you go. You know I want you to reconsider, don’t you?”

“I know, Jace.”

“Will you think about it, please?”

Kate couldn’t say anything, not wanting to give him false hope.

“Well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Kate gave a deep, heartfelt sigh after hanging up the phone. “My little brother calling to warn you that the Big Bad Older Brother was going to come and blow down your door?” Matt asked wryly, propping his back against her sofa and stretching his long legs out before him as he watched her avidly.

“Something like that.” She didn’t turn around, not wanting to face him after almost surrendering totally in his arms a few minutes ago. The man was like an addiction in her blood. To her horror, she realized that she was breathing quickly, her nipples were stiff, aching peaks, and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself back into his arms.

Instead, she stood up, saying, “Leave, Matthew,” keeping her back to him in a very discourteous manner.

Matt rose with more grace than one would think that big body would afford him, taking her stiff little back and bent head into consideration when he spoke in a gentle but hoarse tone, “I’m going, Katy.” He was the only person who had lived through calling her that. She much preferred Kate or Katherine. “And if you insist on leaving the firm, just remember that I expect you to work every single day of your two week notice, which starts tomorrow. If you miss one day, I’ll make sure no one within a hundred mile radius will hire you.” An involuntary shudder ran through her. Matthew never made idle threats, and he had reams of friends and family in the area. All of Kate’s hard work and great reputation would count for nothing if he decided to poison her to the legal community around town.

Whirling, Kate stalked angrily up to him, standing toe to toe with the big man. “Do you flatter yourself to think I’d goldbrick just because you’ll be there?”

The muscle was working in the side of his jaw, a sure sign he was pissed, and the softness of his voice was itself a warning, “I hardly think it’s a compliment that you can’t tolerate me any longer than two weeks. I just wanted you to know where you stood.”

He had to hand it to her, she wasn’t backing down. He liked her newfound self-confidence, even if it made her get in his face. As long as she recognized who was boss in the end.

“I’ve never been confused about your domineering, high-handed tendencies, Mr. Hadley.” So now they weren’t even on a first name basis, huh? He thought. With their previous level of intimacy, she could rightfully call him “lover”. “I don’t intend on allowing you or anyone else to bully me ever again.”

He considered her thoughtfully for a moment, then strode to her door, throwing out a parting shot as he left. “But you are letting me bully you, Katy-girl, right out the door. Think about that.”

Kate was so infuriated that anger flushed over her entire body. She thought steam should be coming out her ears, like it did in cartoons. She hefted a Lladro statue in her right hand experimentally, wondering what the smashing of Spanish porcelain would sound like against the solid wood of her door, but then she realized with horror what she was thinking and doing, replacing the angel figurine on the side table gingerly. What that man drove her to was downright criminal!

Would you like to read the rest of Love Will Find a Way? It's available for immediate download - Order Here.