Hardass (Bad Bitch)(45)

“We are? On a Thursday?”

“Yeah, Lincoln’s in town.” Kennedy whistled and looked out my window.

Lincoln was my older brother. I hadn’t seen him since a recent trip to New York where I sat in on a case as opposing counsel. He wasn’t pleased. I didn’t give a shit.

“I don’t want to see him.” I knew it was a losing battle, but I would fight it anyway.

“I know. But you’re gonna. If for no other reason than to make me happy.” Kennedy flashed his movie star smile, the one that got all the female associates falling all over themselves and offering up their panties.

“You could stop the peacemaker routine anytime, you know?” I packed up my briefcase. Once Kennedy was set on drinks and reconciliation, there was no stopping him.

“I know. But you need to get over that shit. Fawn was like, what, over ten years ago? And now she’s married to that douchenozzle Matt Turnbull. I think you’ve held the grudge for long enough, Wash. Besides, Linc’s got a new lady. I think it’s love. You’d dig her. She’s a hot little number with a dirtier mouth than even me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to have a dirtier mouth than you.”

“Fuckin’ A, right? But she really does. Come on. You’ll see.” He stood and went to the window, using the reflection to smooth down his light brown hair. He was my height, but with deep brown eyes and a bigger build.

“Mr. Granade.” Caroline walked in, looking down at some papers. She wore her glasses today and looked like a naughty librarian. Hot as hell. “I think I may have a few more addresses we could che—” She looked up and saw Kennedy. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company. I’ll come back later.”

She smiled at Kennedy, and something crept up my spine. A feeling that was as out of place as it was strong. I wanted her to smile at me. Just me.

Kennedy returned her smile, the predator clicking into place. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Kennedy, Wash’s brother.” He walked to her and held out his hand.

“I’m Caroline.” She took it, and they shook. “I’ve seen you a couple of times, and, of course, Mr. Granade speaks highly of you.”

I did? I was pretty sure I’d never mentioned Kennedy to her. She was good.

“Mr. Granade?” Kennedy didn’t drop her hand. “He makes you call him that?”

She giggled. My hands fisted.

“It’s all very professional around here, Mr. Granade.”

His smile grew wider. “Oh, no. Now that just won’t do. You call me Kennedy. Actually, you can call me whatever you want.” He winked.

I had never wanted to hit Kennedy. Not even when we were teenagers and got into an extremely heated argument over whose turn it was to be first player in Super Mario. But at that moment in my office, I could have knocked him out cold without remorse. He was touching what was mine. Smiling at what was mine. Winking at what was mine.

“Well, Caroline, Wash—I mean Mr. Granade—and I are about to go get some drinks. Come with us and give us something prettier to look at than each other.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“Good, don’t think about it. Just do it.” He released her hand. “We’re leaving in five. Be ready and we’ll swing by your office and pick you up.”

I glared at Kennedy. He was oblivious as always.

“I, um.” She glanced over to me.

I ran a hand through my hair, barely resisting the urge to pull it.

“Sure, I guess.”

“Good. Glad we came to an agreement. Now, run along. We’ll be there in four and a half minutes.”

She smiled again, demure in her glasses. I knew better. I knew how she tasted. Once she’d gone, her hips swinging in her heeled boots, I turned on Kennedy.

“The fuck are you doing?” I kept my voice down, but at that point, a yell would have been more than warranted. Kennedy had the amazing ability to walk into the middle of any situation and fuck it the hell up. Case in point.

He shrugged. “She’s hot as hell. Thought it might be nice to have some company instead of watching you and Linc try to choke each other with angry stares.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.” I tried to stay calm, to keep the jagged edge of anger out of my voice.

I failed.

Kennedy stopped primping in the window and turned to me. “Since when did you care what I said about . . .” He trailed off, and I could almost see him making the connection. “You got a thing for your associate.” He smiled, big and dumb, just like he did when we were kids.