Like he was going to let her off so easily. “I can work around your schedule, Cinderella,” he teased. “How about if we meet for drinks after your dinner?”

There was a pause before she answered. “I’d like that. I should be free by nine o’clock, if that’s not too late.”

Cade realized then just how much he was looking forward to seeing her that night.

Pfft. Obviously, for all the sex he’d soon be getting.

“Nine o’clock it is,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at your place.”

“I’ll have a Denver omelette waiting.”

“That’s cute.”

She added one last thing before hanging up. “And, Cade, whatever this news is—congratulations.”

With a smile, Cade tucked his phone into his suit jacket.

“From that grin, I’m guessing that some defendant, or his attorney, is about to have a really bad day.”

Hearing the woman’s voice, Cade checked his watch and saw it was three o’clock on the dot.

Starbucks time.

He turned around in his chair and saw a familiar face standing in the doorway. “Well, look who’s back in town. How was the vacation?”

Rylann Pierce, one of the other AUSAs in the special prosecutions division, stepped into his office. “Much needed. If I never again see another ten-defendant, thirteen-count mortgage fraud case, it’ll be too soon.”

“I bet the week in Bora Bora helped,” Cade said. “People are saying that Rhodes whisked you off as soon as the guilty verdicts came in, to a helicopter waiting on the roof of the building.”

“People say a lot of things. And I don’t think they allow convicted felons to park their helicopters on top of the federal building,” Rylann said, referring to her boyfriend’s colorful criminal history.

A year ago, she’d created a huge stir around the office by going public about her relationship with Kyle Rhodes, a wealthy network security entrepreneur who also happened to be an infamous ex-con known as the Twitter Terrorist. Initially, Cade had been particularly surprised by their relationship, given that (A) he considered Rylann one of his closest friends in the office, and (B) he, personally, had been the prosecutor who’d convicted Rhodes and had him sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment.

Awkward.

However, despite the unusual circumstances, he and Rylann had managed to get past the fact that he’d once called the love of her life a “cyber-menace to society”—yep, awkward again—and had continued to be friends. Which was nice, because on top of being someone he enjoyed hanging out with, Rylann was an excellent prosecutor. As two of the most senior AUSAs in the special prosecutions group, they frequently talked shop, sought out each other for advice, and traded courtroom war stories. True, he and Rhodes weren’t going to be drinking eggnog together and singing carols at the annual office holiday party anytime soon, but for Rylann’s sake they kept a quiet distance from each other.

“So no whisking away, huh?” he asked her. “The office gossips will be crushed.”

“No helicopter, but . . . there may have been a limo waiting outside the courthouse after I got my guilty verdicts,” Rylann said. “With champagne chilling on ice.”

Of course there was. Cade got up from his desk and walked to the door. “You know that I’m now required to make fun of you for that for at least the next two weeks, right?”

They walked side-by-side down the hallway to the elevators. “Yep.” Rylann grinned cheekily. “And it’s worth every moment.”

* * *

AT STARBUCKS, CADE suggested they grab a table after he and Rylann got their drinks. He found an empty one in the corner of the café, where they could speak privately.

“There’s something I thought you should know,” he led in. “And I wanted you to hear it from me first. I had a meeting with Cameron this afternoon. She’s asked me to step in as acting U.S. attorney while she’s on maternity leave.”

He wasn’t sure how Rylann would react to the news. She was a great litigator, also in the special prosecutions group, and very dedicated to her job. He didn’t want this temporary promotion to be something that caused friction between them.

Luckily, her response alleviated his concerns.

“Congratulations, Cade,” she said enthusiastically. “That’s fantastic. And well deserved.”

He brushed this off modestly. “I suspect a lot of it came down to seniority within the Chicago office.” Although he and Rylann had the same level of experience, she’d previously worked in the San Francisco office and had transferred to Chicago only last year.

She took a sip of her Frappuccino, and then brushed a lock of raven hair out of her eyes. “I appreciate you saying that. And yes, the fact that you’ve been in Chicago longer than me should be a factor that Cameron considered. But more important, Cameron picked you because you’ll be great at the job.”

“Thanks, Rylann. That means a lot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I would’ve been great, too,” she added. She swirled her drink, mixing up the ice. “But we both know that never could’ve happened. There’s no way the attorney general ever would’ve signed off on an acting U.S. attorney who’s in a relationship with a famous ex-con.”

She said the words matter-of-factly, without any trace of bitterness. And while Cade wouldn’t have said it as bluntly as she had, they both knew she was right. Rylann, however, had accepted a year ago that there would be limits to her career in the government sector in light of her relationship with Rhodes—and as far as Cade knew, she didn’t have any regrets about that.

In fact, her comment provided him with the perfect lead-in. He gestured to the huge diamond making its debut on her left hand. “Judging from that rock on your finger, I think you and Rhodes are a little past the “in a relationship” phase. I assume congratulations are in order?”

She blushed, glancing down at the ring. “I wanted to say something earlier, but, you know . . . given your history with Kyle, it felt a little weird.”

“It’s not weird.” Cade conceded when she threw him a look, “Okay, it’s still a little weird. But come on—tell me the proposal story, anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really. Just keep in mind that I’m a guy, which means I’m genetically predisposed to think that whatever mushy romantic tale you’re about to tell me is highly cheesy.”

Rylann laughed. “I’ll keep it simple, then.” She rested her drink on the table. “Well, you already heard how Kyle picked me up at the courthouse after my trial. He said he wanted to surprise me with a vacation because I’d been working so hard, but that we needed to drive to Champaign first to meet with his former mentor, the head of the U of I Department of Computer Sciences, to discuss some project Kyle was working on for a client.” She held up a sparkly hand, nearly blinding Cade and probably half of the other Starbucks patrons. “In hindsight, yes, that sounds a little fishy, but what do I know about all this network security stuff? He had his laptop out, there was some talk about malicious payloads and Trojan horse attacks—it all sounded legitimate enough at the time.”

“Remind me, while I’m acting U.S. attorney, not to assign you to any cybercrime cases.”

“Anyhow. . . we get to Champaign, which as it so happens, is where Kyle and I first met ten years ago. And the limo turns onto the street where I used to live while in law school, and Kyle asks the driver to pull over because he wants to see the place for old time’s sake. So we get out of the limo, and he’s making this big speech about the night we met and how he walked me home on the very sidewalk we were standing on—I’ll fast-forward here in light of your aversion to the mushy stuff—and I’m laughing to myself because, well, we’re standing on the wrong side of the street. So naturally, I point that out, and he tells me that nope, I’m wrong, because he remembers everything about that night, so to prove my point I walk across the street to show him and”—she paused here— “and I see a jewelry box, sitting on the sidewalk, in the exact spot where we had our first kiss. Then I turn around and see Kyle down on one knee.”

She waved her hand, her eyes a little misty. “So there you go. The whole mushy, cheesy tale. Gag away.”

Cade picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. “That was actually pretty smooth.”

Rylann grinned. “I know. Former cyber-menace to society or not, that man is a keeper.”

Nineteen

BROOKE CUT THINGS closer than she’d intended that evening, and walked through the front door of her condo only five minutes before Cade was supposed to arrive.

I can work around your schedule, he’d said when they’d spoken earlier on the phone.

It was such a silly thing, but it had been a long time since any guy had said that to her. Basically, since she’d started working for Sterling.

It was just a casual comment, she reminded herself. It didn’t mean a thing.

Focusing on the task at hand, Brooke quickly set up her surprise in the kitchen, finishing just as someone knocked at her door. She answered, still wearing her work clothes.

Cade stood in her doorway, dressed casually in a polo shirt and jeans. He raised an eyebrow, seeing her in her business attire. “How was the wining and dining?”

“Longer than expected.” She gestured for him to come in. “Just let me change and then we can head out.”

He looked curiously around her condo, taking in the view. “This is nice.”

“Thanks.” Despite the hefty mortgage she paid for the one-bedroom plus den, and the ridiculous assessments on top of that, she loved the place. Hardwood floors, a nicely sized master bedroom, and a small eat-in breakfast area off the kitchen with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

Cade walked through her living room, which opened to the kitchen. He stopped when his gaze landed on the champagne bottle that sat chilling in an ice bucket on the counter.

He looked at her. “Is that for me?”

Seeing his obvious surprise, Brooke suddenly felt awkward. When she’d swung by the wine shop around the corner on her way home from dinner, the champagne had seemed like a nice gesture, given that Cade had mentioned getting some really good news. But now she remembered Commandment Number Six of the “Rules of Casual Sex.”

No personal gifts except for sex toys and massage oils.

Yes, fine, she got it now. Although, admittedly, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the thought of handing Cade a congratulatory penis ring.

Surprise!

Covering quickly, Brooke waved her hand dismissively at the champagne. “It’s a bottle someone gave me as a gift. I had it sitting around and figured that whatever your mysterious news is, ‘really damn cool’ on the scale of ‘meh to holy-shit-I-just-won-the-Rose-Bowl’ merited some champagne.”

Noticing that Cade still watched her interestedly, Brooke went into the kitchen and pulled a corkscrew out of one of the drawers. She opened the champagne, poured them each a glass, and handed one over to him. “So. What are we toasting to?”

“In eight weeks I’ll be the acting U.S. attorney for the Northern District of Illinois.”

Brooke’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding. That’s awesome.”

“It’s just while my boss, Cameron, is on maternity leave,” he said.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s still awesome.” Brooke clinked her glass to his. “Congratulations.” She took a sip, noticing that his eyes fell to her mouth after she pulled the glass away.

She swallowed, suddenly feeling as though the temperature of the room had shot up twenty degrees. One look—the right look—was all it took from this man, and here she was getting all hot and bothered.

“How is it?” he asked, holding her gaze.

“Not bad.” She gestured to his glass of champagne. “Have a taste.”

He set his glass on the counter. “I think I will.” He hooked his finger into the waistband of her skirt, pulled her closer, and lowered his mouth hungrily to hers.

* * *

CADE HAD BEEN in a state—meaning the horny-as-hell kind of state—since the moment Brooke had answered the door in another one of her hot skirt-and-heels combos. He’d been thinking about getting his hands on her all day, ever since they’d talked, and now here she was, pressed against him, her fingers tangled in his hair as their mouths melded together.

You like her.