He laughed. “I meant to come back before you opened your eyes but I got distracted. Paperwork.”

“So flattering. But I forgive you because I now get to do the deed with nerdy eyeglass-wearing Eli.” She drew back. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen you in glasses before. Why don’t you wear them all the time?”

“Because I’m already hot enough. I put these on and I’d be lucky to walk ten feet without losing all my clothes to Eli-mania.” And while on the lovely subject of losing clothes . . . He peeled off her shirt, raising his glasses to get a better look. Then he made a colossal error.

He pushed them up to the top of his head!

“Don’t even think about it, buster,” she ordered as she replaced them on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t care how blurry, or clear, I look to you. I demand my early morning sex nerd-style.”

Sighing his acquiescence, he moved a folder aside, and her gaze was drawn to the cover with the seal of Veterans’ Affairs. “That doesn’t look like campaign stuff.”

“It’s not. I’m working on a new program with the Veterans’ Court.”

She’d heard of this, a court system designed to administer cases of military vets. Momentarily distracted from the Cooper glory, she said, “I don’t really get why there has to be a separate system. Isn’t crime the same regardless of who commits it?”

“Yes and no. One in ten prison inmates in the U.S. has a military background, and a lot of the behavior that gets them in trouble can be traced to inadequate services for PTSD and long wait times for counseling. Many self-medicate with alcohol, drugs, have poor employment rates. It’s a perfect storm for sending vets into the criminal justice system. The veterans’ court looks at ways to keep vets out of prison for nonviolent offenses and help them get their lives back on track—before they derail completely.” He picked up the folder. “I’ve been reading some of the cases because I plan to give it more funding for mental health and mentoring services.”

Her memory strayed to the scars on his body, the stamps of his heroism and his duty to country. With two brothers who were ex-military, she understood the difficulties with reacclimation stateside. Luke, especially, had been a terror. “How did you get through it, Eli?”

“I kept busy,” he said, not misunderstanding her. “I went to work in the state’s attorney’s office and I powered through.” He pushed her unruly hair behind her ear. “I may have drunk too much, but that could just as easily be attributed to being a lawyer. I probably should have talked to someone, but my grandparents didn’t believe in therapy and I guess I internalized that.”

“You’ve had to work through a lot of stuff.”

His smile was grimly beautiful. “The human condition. If it ain’t painful, it ain’t interesting.”

True, that. “So, when your parents died you didn’t see a shrink?”

He shook his head. “Shrinks were for crazy people. In Lake Forest, traumatic events are overcome with stiff upper lips, a double scotch, and a round of golf. I’m a black belt in all three.” He skimmed his hands down her sides, seeking and finding all her curves. “I think I turned out okay, but I recognize that’s not the solution for everyone.”

“Like Brady? Gage said it’s been slow going, but getting better.”

A shadow crossed his face but quickly brightened to a smile. “I don’t worry about him as much anymore. Your brother’s been really good for him.”

Brady had been just as good for Gage, who went through a tough time with his biological mom in the fall. “That’s why you introduced them. You hoped Gage would heal Brady.” And this man didn’t believe in the fairy tale? She dropped a kiss on his lips. “Sounds like you’ve been a good friend.”

“To be honest, I was sick of all his doom and gloom. Someone had to take charge and make something happen.”

Eli’s grip on the reins, even when it wasn’t his horse to ride, always had to be absolute. Great for her in the bedroom, but she could see that it might be troublesome in other rooms in the house. Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to worry about that. Soon she wouldn’t have to worry about any of it.

Just enjoy the cock ride, Dempsey.

Needing the distraction that she knew only his hands could give, she squirmed in his lap, loving the bite of the denim through her erotically thin panties. His thumbs veed over her mound, then trailed farther south and under until they encountered soft, soaking flesh.

“You a little sore, honey? I worked you good.”

She wished she didn’t blush around him so much. “I like it. I like the reminder of how good you feel inside me.”

“You did say it had been a while,” he said with a sly bent to his tone.

“Fishing for tales of my past misdeeds?”

“If I was to believe you, you’re as untouched as the driven snow because no man can see past your startling honesty and tough-girl attitude to the real woman underneath.”

She felt her bones go stiff. He felt it, too.

“I see. Just give me a name. I can have him taken care of within the hour.”

She smiled, though she really shouldn’t enjoy that Eli had that kind of power and was unafraid to use it in her defense. “I believe you, which reminds me. You are not to retaliate against Michael Martinez because he informed me of your Neanderthal behavior.”

Glowering ensued. “He was supposed to keep that information to himself.”

“I mean it, Eli. No payback. You got what you wanted.”

He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, inducing delicious shivers. “Yes, I did. I suppose I can be magnanimous in victory.”

“Ass,” she muttered.

Smug grin. “Tell me about the last guy. Maybe I can transfer my wrath to someone who’s more deserving.”

She should never have opened this can of wormage. “Only my pride was the casualty here, Eli. I’d been dating, once a week, all duds, and then after one encounter with a dickhead in a four-hundred-thousand-dollar luxury vehicle, suddenly I was interesting.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Ah.” She squirmed, not a sexy writhe this time. “I let myself get picked up in my own bar by some stockbroker type. Just sex while under the influence.”

He stared at her with that immovable gaze. “So, he didn’t call you?”

Typical man, assuming that a woman’s ultimate goal was to get that follow-up call. She fixed him with a disapproving glare, letting him know what she thought of his stereotyping. “No, he didn’t. Instead two nights later he came back into the bar with a bunch of rowdy friends and I overheard them taking bets about who would be next to tap America’s Favorite Firefighter.”

His fingers gripped her waist. “How rude.” He said it with a lethal quiet, as if this type of rudeness deserved the death penalty. At his hands.

“I knew what I was doing. But I did feel foolish, and then I felt . . . careful.” She needed him to understand that she had no expectations here. Eyes open, fun times ahead. Next topic. “So what about you?”

“I told you, I don’t date.”

“Well, no one said you had to date to get some.” She made a flourish with her hands over her very naked breasts, a gesture of acknowledgment that not dating could be very rewarding indeed.

His gaze turned molten. “Honey, you had your chance to extract my secrets last night in the postcoital afterglow, but instead you chose more sex.”

She raised a fist to the ceiling in triumph. “I will always choose more sex. But now I want to know how long it’s been for you. Who was it? Lemme guess. Some campaign intern whose panties get wet whenever you walk in the room?” Ugh, she hated this skank already. She needed to stop talking, but a part of her had to know what the competition was like.

Not that it would make a difference to Eli. He’d made it abundantly clear that she should keep her expectations as low as dirt.

“No interns.” A sharp look said the suggestion was beneath him.