Read You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub for Free Online

door seconds after Jonathan stood. She pressed her palms to the sofa cushions straightening her on the center. She caught the pull of Jonathan’s trousers across his nice behind as he removed keys from his pocket. At the door, Jonathan tossed something disguised as a sweet wink over his shoulder. “I’m only getting one cabin.”
    Wonderful. Now a bunch of kids will be sitting around, their mouths poked out because they didn’t have a female chaperone. “Can’t the court appoint a woman DA to help you, Mr. Blakemore?” She clutched the sofa pillow in her lap as if it kept her from drowning under his stare.
    “Somebody on a work program?”
    “Four a.m., Ms. Claiborne. We’re skiing. Dress for it.”
    This fast talker standing in her home was railroading her. “No lawyers in contempt of court you can ask? Maybe the judge will let them pay off their bail by helping with the kids.”
    “What did I walk in on?” Randall eyed her, dropping his things on the tiled counter then gave his attention to Jonathan. The men clasped hands, their bodies filling the space between the kitchen and the living room. There stood two perfectly good men. One she couldn’t have for professional reasons, and the other not certain she could handle even with a whip and a chair. They were like two rutting bulls fighting over a scrap of meat…with the flu… her .  
    The bag of Chinese food and a six-pack of Vernors ginger ale had her licking her tongue over her lips. To her horror, Jonathan feasted on every swipe.
    “Randall.” She needed Jonathan to leave. The man distracted her train of thought, her logic and common sense.
    “Let me see you out.” Randall started to escort Jonathan to the door a mere ten feet away.
    Jonathan paused and turned fully toward her, making the wool coat swing open. And it bounced against his thigh when it settled. What was so heavy in his pocket that it moved like that? She lost all concern when he winked and all the air left her body on one exhale. Never thought a man could take her breath away, she had to think in order to inhale.
    “Take care of my patient. She owes me a favor and I plan to collect,” he teased and she heard a promise in his tone. It smelled of a threat of complete seduction when he came back to collect from her. 
    “Kenya’s in good hands,” Randall said, wrenching her front door open to the hallway. “Don’t worry about her health, but thanks for stepping in…bringing my girl home…to me.”
    Her mouth went slack. Did he mean friend and not girlfriend as in sleeping together?
    Jonathan shot her a glance. Biting her lip she fought the heat spreading across her cheeks at the chest-thumping going on between the two men. Jonathan gave Randall a deeper look, sizing him up and she hoped that ended the posturing.
    Readjusting herself on the sofa, she got their attention. “Thank you, Jonathan, for everything and send me a bill for the ride.”
    He ran a hand along the doorjamb as if his thoughts carried weight before he spoke.” Thursday four a.m. is your bill, Pretty Lady. Call, Cedric, my driver, will pick you up.” Under the door's threshold, he sank into his shoulders, and without turning around, said, “I'd just buried a friend when we met, Kenya. He was only twelve. Not an excuse for my rude behavior...just the cause behind it,” he offered, pulling the door shut behind him and Kenya knew she hadn’t seen the last of this controversy in tailored clothes. She smiled.
    The sofa cushions enveloped her shoulder as she thought about his words. He’d came from a funeral for a teenager when they’d met and she’d caught him in mourning. Who was Jonathan Blakemore?
    His scent lingered under her nose an hour after he’d left her apartment. Randall sat across from her, eating out of a Chinese take-out box. “I know you said he didn’t hurt you already, but that kind of stuff only happens on TV.” He eyed her then dropped his chopsticks in the box, setting it on the low