I note the frayed sleeves of her hoodie and the holes in her jeans, fairly typical for a teenager. I’m pretty sure it’s the same hoodie she was wearing the time we went to the diner, and I have to wonder if it’s a favorite, something she’s taken to wearing as if it’s become the teenage equivalent of a security blanket. When my mother passed I had a blanket she’d made for me that I would often curl up with, just so I could feel close to her. And there was a necklace she loved that I would wear so I could keep her next to my heart. I wore it for years, and still do on occasion.

She bites her already ragged nails as we pull away from the school. I give her shoulder a little squeeze. “You all right?”

She nods, but her voice is small when she says, “I was so scared.”

“I know you were, sweetie, but everything is fine now.” That’s not entirely true, I don’t think, but telling her that isn’t going to help the situation.

It surprisingly takes only ten minutes to get to Daxton’s. He’s sitting on the front steps, suit jacket unbuttoned, tie hanging loose, hair a riotous mess.

He stands up as I pull into the driveway beside his Audi. I don’t even have the car in park before Emme throws open the door. Her backpack lands on the driveway, door still wide open as she rushes Dax and launches herself at him. A fresh wave of tears makes her body shake.

He wraps her up in his strong arms and bends to rest his cheek on top of her head, smoothing his hand over her hair. I cut the engine in time to hear him soothe her, “Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here. Nothing bad happened. We’re both fine. You’re fine. I’m right here.”

I have to take a moment to breathe through my own settling anxiety, my heart aching over her panic, which I felt as my own in that short time between her call and hearing from Dax. It reminds me of my own reaction all those years ago when my father suffered his first heart attack.

His eyes lift as I step out of my car, his expression one of gratitude and so many fleeting emotions, it’s impossible to pin them down.

“I th-thought something h-happened to you,” Emme sobs into his suit.

I round the front of my car, the clip of my heels a loud interruption as I pick up her backpack and gently close the passenger side door.

“I’m so sorry I made you worry. I’ll try my best not to let that happen again.”

I’m glad he doesn’t make a promise he can’t be sure he can keep like I did today.

It’s another half a minute of whispered words before she finally lets him go. “I thought I was going to have to go live with Aunt Linda.”

“Oh, kiddo, I’m doing everything in my power to keep you right here, with me, okay?”

She nods, her fingers at her mouth, chewing anxiously at her ruined nails.

“You hungry?”

She sniffs and shrugs. “Can Kailyn stay for dinner?”

Dax gives me a questioning, hopeful smile. “If she’d like.”

I should go and let them manage this situation, but Emme’s expression is just as hopeful as Dax’s, and two sets of puppy dog eyes are impossible to deny. “I can stay.”

Emme smiles through her tears. “Do you like sushi? Maybe we can order in?”

“That sounds great.”

“Why don’t you go in and get the menu so you can pick all the things you like?” Dax says.

“Okay.” Emme takes her bag and disappears inside.

As soon as she’s out of sight, Dax pulls me into him, head bowed until I feel his warm breath fanning across my neck. “Thank you.” He shudders and his hold tightens.

I smooth a palm up and down his back. “It’s okay. She’s okay now.” I should put some distance between us, but I find I like this too much. It’s been a long time since anyone has sought comfort in me. He smells so good, a hint of faded cologne, laundry, and watermelon gum. I feel both protected and needed, something I haven’t experienced in ages. It’s a dangerous combination.

His lips brush my cheek as he finally pulls away. “Her messages were so frantic. I felt sick.”

“She was worried something had happened to you.” So was I. “What made you so late?”

Dax doesn’t have a chance to answer because Emme throws the door open and grabs my hand. “I need you to look at the menu with me so you can pick what you like, too.”

Once dinner is finished, Emme excuses herself to her room, apparently recovered from the earlier trauma, giving Dax and me a chance to talk. He told Emme that he got stuck in a meeting and his phone died, but his stiff posture tells me there’s more to the story.

He opens the fridge and grabs a couple of bottles of beer. “You want one?”

“I should probably go soon.”

“You could just stay for one drink? I can explain what happened this afternoon.” He inclines his head toward the backyard.

The last time I sat out there with him he kissed me. The memory haunts me like a ghost, and has evolved into dreams that leave me wet and wanting when I wake. “Uh, the living room might be better. It’s starting to cool off tonight.”

I have no idea if that’s accurate, but I do not want to find myself in that position again, especially since I enjoyed it so much. If I manage to persuade Dax to come to Whitman, I can’t indulge in this kind of relationship with him anyway. There’s a strict no-fraternization policy in effect, and for good reason. Interoffice romances only cause unnecessary drama and discomfort between colleagues, especially when relationships fail. And at a small firm like Whitman, the awkwardness would be magnified.

A small smile appears as he tips his head to the side. “Okay.”

I follow him into the living room. Of course he chooses to sit on the love seat, forcing me into close proximity anyway. I’m still dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse. His gaze roams lower, to my signature patterned hose as I cross my legs. I smooth my skirt down, wishing I were wearing something more comfortable. “So what happened this afternoon, exactly?”

“Court went a little long, and I still had to go back to my office, but even with the stop I only would’ve been a few minutes late. Except Linda’s lawyer ambushed me in the lobby.”

“Why?”

“Who the hell knows? I assume Linda sent him to make me late. He had papers I’ve already seen. Emme stays after school on Tuesdays for music, and Linda knows that. I was in such a rush to get Emme, I left my keys in Felix’s car, and I had to wait for him to bring them back. My phone died before I could call Emme to let her know. By that time she must’ve called you. It was just a shit day.”

“I think you need to have a backup plan for nights when you might be late, whether you want Emme to be able to take the bus on her own, or you let me know and I can come get her.”

“I don’t want to put that on you.”

“I have clearance for this kind of thing for a reason, Dax. Let me help when you need it.”

He scrubs a palm over his face. “It’s all been such a whirlwind, you know? I don’t know if I’m coming or going half the time.”

I run a soothing hand down his arm. “Have you talked to your boss about your hours? Are they being flexible?”

“They’re trying, and I guess so am I. They’re so used to me working these long hours, I think they forget sometimes that I have these obligations now that they don’t. Most of the guys with families aren’t doing this on their own, they have wives and nannies. It’s just different.”

“There are other options, Dax. Beverly would give you very flexible hours. Emme’s school is close to the firm, and the library is right down the street. Some of my colleagues’ kids hang out there after school and catch up on homework. It’s very family friendly, particularly for someone in your situation.” Despite what Beverly wants, it would be so much better for Emme, and likely Dax, to make the switch. They’d have stability. I would be suggesting this even if it wasn’t what Beverly wanted.

Daxton sighs. “I’m supposed to make partner at Freeman this year.”

“There are a lot of demands with being a partner, though.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I had all these life plans and they’ve been altered so dramatically.”

“They’re just on hold. You’d have the same opportunities at Whitman, and you can take your time getting there. You can wait until Emme is done with high school and off to college before you make the push for partner if that’s what makes the most sense. You’re young, you have time.” As much as it might sound like a sales pitch, it’s true.

“It’s something to think about, especially after today.” He stretches his arm across the back of the love seat. “You must be close to making partner at this point.”

“My dad and I had bet before he passed that I would make partner by thirty.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s something I’ve been working toward,” I reply. Maybe throwing myself into work isn’t the most rational way to deal with loss, but up until now it’s how I’ve managed.

“Is this getting in the way of that?” He motions between us and it takes me a second to understand his meaning.

My stomach knots with guilt that he’s become part of what will get me the partnership I’ve been seeking. “Oh, you mean is being Emme’s conservator impacting my cases? No, not at all.”

“Okay. That’s good. Thank you for what you did. That was way outside of your professional or personal obligation.”

“I’m glad I could be there to help.”

Dax is silent for a moment, then clears his throat. “About the last time you were here—”