She shakes her head. “Surely you can take a coffee break. Or donuts? Cops like donuts, right?”

I sigh and scrub a hand down my face. Where’s Sabrina? At least she could come and help me. “I’m not a cop. I run an investigative and personal protection service firm.”

“That sounds naughty.” She raises an eyebrow and licks the corner of her lip. Laura is attractive and I’ve had sex with her many times before, but none of her antics move me. But I cared for her once; hell, I might have even married her had my life not made such a dramatic turn, and I don’t feel right about placing my boot in her ass and kicking her out.

On the other hand, it doesn’t feel right having her in the same house as Natalie. I glance at the entry, where just a few days ago, I’d taken Natalie. I still feel the soreness in my abs from the long bout of predawn sex we’d had this morning.

I curl my fingers into my palm. No, it wasn’t right that Laura was sitting here without Natalie knowing.

“I’m seeing someone,” I say baldly. “My donut breaks are saved for her.”

“Oh.” Laura looks down at her hands and then at the fireplace. Anywhere but me. “When did this happen? Because when I saw you in Rockefeller Plaza, you implied you were single.”

I didn’t remember saying anything like that, yet it’s possible I might have told her that I wasn’t too busy to have a drink with her. I see now Laura took that to mean I was open to getting back together. “A few weeks ago.”

“Then it can’t be serious.” She rises from the chair and sways over to me. I step aside, adroitly but obviously. A frown creases her forehead.

“It’s serious.”

“It can’t be that serious. You said you just started seeing her a few weeks ago. Don’t you remember what we had together?”

“It was a long time ago.” And I never asked you to marry me. It was just something that both our families thought would happen. I never needed you, not like I need Natalie, I think.

“We have a long history and had some really good times, Jake. During my divorce I couldn’t stop thinking about you. When I saw you at Rockefeller Plaza, I knew that we’d made a mistake all those years ago.” She places her hand on my chest. Her eyes dart to my left side. “Even that doesn’t bother me.”

I raise my left hand and make a fist. “This? My stump or my prosthetic?”

She grimaces at the word. “I can get used to it.”

I walk over to the entry and pick up her coat. “You’re a nice woman, Laura, but so long as Natalie wants me, she’s going to have me. Hell, even if she doesn’t want me anymore, I’ll probably spend the rest of my days trying to convince her to give me a second chance. There’s nothing for you here.”

Hurt mars her pretty face and I can see the spiteful words form before she opens her mouth. But then her good manners take over and she manages to sniff haughtily. “Your loss.”

Silently I hand her the coat, which she practically rips out of my hands. She spins and jerks open the door and then runs out. Behind me I hear a shuffle on the stairs.

“You should go upstairs,” Sabrina says.

I nod. “Thanks.”

As I pass she says, “You made the right choice.”

“There’s no choice to be made,” I tell her. “It’s Natalie or no one for me.”

“Same.”

The one word strikes me hard. Does she really feel that way about Kaga? I push that worry aside and hurry up the stairs to reassure Natalie.

“Can I come in?”

Natalie turns away from her desk. The computer monitor that shows all the exterior feeds is asleep and her manuscript is up on the main screen. “How am I supposed to finish with all these interruptions,” she teases while gesturing me forward.

“It’s a conspiracy,” I quip. “Did you see we had a visitor?”

“We?” she says with a raised eyebrow. “That lady looked like she was here to see one person only.”

I pluck her from her chair and then sit down, settling her on my lap. Talking about exes necessitates a closeness. I want Natalie to know she’s it for me, and I can’t fully express that with her across the room. “That was Laura. I dated her when I was in college and then for a couple years after. I hadn’t seen her once in eight years, and then about six months ago I ran into her at Rockefeller Plaza. She said we should get together and catch up and I told her to call me because it seemed like the social, polite thing to do. I put it out of my mind and didn’t give it another thought.”

“But because you took a long time she showed up at your doorstep.”

“The hazards of working out of one’s home, I suppose.” She buries her nose in my neck. “We okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I need to worry about your exes showing up?”

“No, Adam and I didn’t have that kind of relationship, and in the end, he was mad that the game was taking so much flak and I was mad he didn’t defend me more. I think we were glad to see the back of each other.”

“Speaking of exes, did you have a chance to look through your emails?”

She stills in my embrace and then shudders. “I can’t. Oliver told me I should go through my old emails, make a list of potential perps, but I can’t, Jake. I just can’t go through all the horrible stuff again. I’m afraid they’ll eradicate every tiny little bit of progress I’ve made.”

“All right. We’ll work without it.”

“Thank you.” She snuggles in closer.

I tip her head up for a long kiss before I head back downstairs. We might not be married, but it feels like it. And it’s not a bad feeling. Not at all.

I end up working late and Natalie is still in her office. Sabrina is gone, but there’s pasta in the refrigerator. I reheat it and then head upstairs.

“You hungry?” I knock on the door.

She opens the door. “Sabrina fed me a few hours ago.”

“Do you mind then?” I gesture toward the food. She shakes her head. “Mind coming upstairs?”

“No, I can do that. Can we ride the elevator?” Natalie believes the elevator inside the house is tremendous. After our sex ride, I’m beginning to agree with her.

“Yes, but I need to eat before I can service you.”

She sticks out her tongue. I whip out my left arm and drag her to me, burying my nose in her neck as she squeals. It’s a tremendous relief not to worry about which arm I’m using to touch her.

“Come on.” I drag her into the waiting box and press the button. I shovel the pasta into my mouth as the elevator rises from the third floor to the fifth. She stays snuggled up to my side. “How’s the writing going?”

“Good, I’m nearing the end. I can feel it. I think a couple more days and I will finally be able to answer Daphne’s emails.”

We walk out and my knee locks up. Stumbling, I drop the bowl and it crashes to the ground. “Fuck!”

Natalie grabs my arm to steady me, but my heavy weight nearly takes her to the ground. I shove her roughly away—too roughly. Cursing, I apologize. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

There’s glass everywhere. The sauce has splashed the walls, the carpet, and me. The burn of humiliation crawls over my skin. Natalie tries to pick up the glass.

“Stop. Just stop,” I snap.

She does immediately and scuttles back, looking hurt and concerned. Fuck.

It’s the first time I haven’t felt completely competent around her and it’s pissing me off. I close my eyes and gather myself. “Sorry.” It comes out grumbly so I try again. “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself on the glass.”

She swallows. “I just wanted to help.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m a fucking beast.”

“You’re not, but I know what it’s like to not always be showing your best side.”

I take a deep breath and then another. “I want you to think of me as a man.”

“I do.”

“A normal one.”

“You are.”

I wipe my hand across my mouth and start picking up glass.

She watches me for a few moments, and then says, “You know, Jake Tanner, you talk a good game.”

“How’s that?” After she gets to her feet and disappears inside the bathroom, I limp over to the dresser and pull out some T-shirts. I dump them on the floor to cover the mess. I’ll get someone up here tomorrow to clean it up. The best I can do now is make sure Natalie’s feet don’t get cut.