Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,202

to mention,” I added with a grin, “you were loud as hell. We probably woke up Elena’s kids.”

Darlene swatted my arm. She lay curled against me, her leg slung over my hip and her booted foot resting on my thigh.

“That’s all your fault, not mine.” She nestled closer to me. “You told me you thought Olivia woke up because she was afraid she was alone,” she said after a moment. Her fingers trailed over my chest. “Maybe she senses the tension has been lifted and she gets to stay where she belongs. And with whom she belongs.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “But there’s still a little tension. One last hurdle.”

“Your meeting with Judge Miller?”

I nodded. “Monday. I have not written a word of that essay he wants.”

Darlene propped her chin on my chest. “Are you worried?”

“I should be, but I don’t know. So much has happened, I feel like what I need to say to him will come to me.”

“It will,” Darlene said. “I know it will.”

“Well, it had better get here quick. It only has two days.”

The baby monitor lit up with Olivia stirring.

“She’s so cute when she wakes up,” Darlene said.

“I’ll get her.”

Darlene pushed me back. “Let me.”

She drew on her underwear and found one of my dress shirts on the floor. It came down to her thighs, and made her legs look like they went on forever. Her hair was tousled—my hands had been buried in it all night—and her lips were swollen from my kisses.

“God, you’re sexy,” I murmured as she buttoned up the shirt, leaving the top three undone.

She grinned. “You’re only saying that because we just had sex for six hours straight.”

“I don’t think it’s subjective,” I said. “But I’m willing to put in more time. Just to be sure.”

She laughed as she limped to Olivia’s room. I slipped on my boxers, then sat against the headboard, listening over the monitor as my daughter crowed ‘Dareen!’ and Darlene answered with sweet words and silly noises to make her laugh.

They came back into the bedroom, Olivia on Darlene’s hip. My little girl blinked sleep out of her eyes; a lock of Darlene’s hair was curled around her fingers.

“Look who’s awake,” Darlene said, bouncing her lightly. “Say, ‘good morning, Daddy.’”

“Daddy,” Olivia said, and something caught her eye. “Birr. Birr…” She reached her hand and Darlene moved to the window.

“What do you see? Is that a bird?”

“Birr.”

The light streamed in, slanted over Darlene holding my baby, and I drank in every detail. The blue of her shirt against Olivia’s pale yellow jammies; the sunlight turning strands of Darlene’s brown hair gold with hints of red; Olivia’s blue eyes as she pointed and babbled at only something she and Darlene could see.

I saw only them; filled my eyes with them and my photographic memory captured every nuance of that moment, and saved it forever.

Monday morning, I arrived at Judge Miller’s office promptly at eight a.m. Roger was already there, naturally. He gave me a short glance.

“How did your brief turn out?” he asked.

“It didn’t,” I said.

His eyes widened slightly, and a small smile tugged the corners of his lips. “What does that mean, exactly?”

It means I’m taking a colossal chance, and possibly throwing away my dream job.

I shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Roger pressed a smile between his lips and his fingers smoothed the cover of a sleek portfolio that no doubt held his perfectly collated and annotated brief inside.

My hands were empty.

Judge Miller arrived. “Gentlemen.”

We followed him into his office and waited at attention until he sat behind his desk.

“You may sit. So. The bar exam,” he said, without preamble. “I know results are weeks away, but how do you feel it went?”

“Very well, Your Honor,” Roger said. “I feel good about it.”

The judge turned to me. “Mr. Haas?”

“I don’t know, Your Honor,” I said. “I did my best. I’m proud of my work.” I shrugged. “That’s all I can say at this point.”

Miller nodded. “Indeed. Your briefs, please?”

Roger perked up and handed his portfolio to the judge, who flipped through it to give a cursory glance, then looked to me.

“I don’t have a brief written.”

Judge Miller’s thick white eyebrows shot up. “I see.”

Beside me, Roger shifted in his chair, sensing victory.

“And for what reason were you unable to complete the assignment?”

“In part, I’m not prepared because I became locked in a custody battle for my daughter.”

The judge sat back in his chair. “And did you prevail?”

“I did,” I said, “but I shouldn’t have. Not under the law.”

The words that had