Justice Falling (Falling #3)(38)
“Get Nate Walker on the phone…now! There’s been an incident.” Hank’s words cut like a metal blade into granite.
I glanced at Aspen who was picking grass and whisking dirt off her behind, a scowl dampening her pretty features. She looked like she’d been in a scuffle. Her hands came around her large pregnant belly and rubbed big circles around the entire circumference. Hank charged to his wife and placed a hand on her bump. “She movin’? What’s going on in there?” His voice was harsh, very unlike his normal jovial timber when he talked to her. She put a pale hand to his cheek and the other over her belly.
“She’s moving just fine. Feel her right here?” His body went still and he focused all attention on his wife. After a few moments, he took a deep breath, got down on his knees and laid his head against her bump.
“Thank God. You’re okay, right, Angel?” Why wouldn’t Aspen be okay? What the heck happened? Aspen nodded and smiled, her grimace leaving her face as she watched her husband worship her. He kissed her belly and leaned his forehead against her stomach. “I don’t hear you dialing, Cami. I need our lawyer right f*ckin’ now!”
“Hank, calm down. I’m fine. The baby’s fine. Butch is fine.”
I dialed Stone, Walker, & Associates, dreading calling Nate, but with no other choice. My pride or my job. No contest there. I dialed his direct line, hoping maybe he wouldn’t be there and I’d have to talk to Collier Stone instead. I still had no idea what this was about but I wasn’t going to risk getting into trouble to find out. Hank’s demeanor, the way he held his entire body stiff and on edge brooked no argument.
If I was lucky, Nate would have answered, “Good morning, love,” as I’d hoped to hear. Maybe even a flat “Nate Walker,” but instead I was prepared for him to be angry at how I left. Unfortunately, luck had never been a lady named Cami. Anything he could have said would have been a step above what actually spewed like a verbal train wreck from the speaker phone.
“You have any idea how bloody maddening it is waking up in your bed, alone when you expect to have the woman you spent all night shagging to be there, smiling, drowsy, and ready for another go? Why ever did you leave me naked and wanting, Precious?”
Kill me now.
I risked a quick look at Hank, then Aspen. Both their eyes were huge and round, mouths agape. Fuck my life!
“Um, Nate. I have you on speaker. Mr. Jensen asked me to call you.” I closed my eyes and put my face in my hands. There was no way on God’s green earth that my face wasn’t hot pink or even dark fuchsia. I was probably close to being a bruised purple from holding my breath. I wondered if anyone ever died from holding their own breath? At this point anything would be better than the mortification of my boss and his wife knowing I spent the evening having sex with their lawyer.
“On another note,” Aspen jumped right in, saving the day. I wanted to bend over and worship at her feet, kiss her designer shoes, and thank her for the reprieve. She winked and started in, all business. “On our walk this morning through Central Park we had a little trouble. You see this man…”
“This f*ckin’ dickwad tried to put his hands on my wife’s belly,” Hank hollered loud enough to shake the glass from the building next door.
“Oh no…” Nate chimed in.
Hank continued his rant. “Like her f*ckin’ pregnant belly is open season for any Tom, Dick, and Harry to grope. You should have seen the rat bastard reach out with both hands to touch my f*ckin’ wife.” Hank didn’t usually cuss this much. Watching his face turn red, his jaw clenched so tight he could break rocks with his teeth, I knew he was too far gone to rein it in.
“Hank, mate, please tell me you didn’t hit him?” Nate begged through the line.
What Nate couldn’t see was Hank’s giant grin. Went from ear-to-ear. “I didn’t touch em’…”
“Thank Christ for that!” Nate finished.
“My dog bit the slimy f*cker!” Hank announced proudly. “Best f*ckin’ dog in the free world.” He petted Butch’s head and scratched behind his ears. The dog thumped his hind leg appreciatively.
“No, he didn’t? Have you gone off your trolley?”
Aspen joined in. “Unfortunately, he has gone mad, Nate, but he’s not kidding. We were taking Butch for a stroll through the park when we were stopped by a man. He seemed innocent enough--” Hank bristled, and Aspen laid a hand on his bicep. His shoulders softened. “Well, he made a move to touch my stomach with both hands. That’s when things went downhill, I’m afraid.”
“That’s when things got down right interesting! My dog lunged at the baby belly groper and clamped onto his wrist pushing the f*cker down. Took a good chunk out of em’ too. The worst part is that piece of shit grabbed my wife’s hand and pulled her down with him. This f*cker used a pregnant woman as a God damned balancing stick! Throw the book at him I say!” Hank yelled, bringing his face close to the speaker phone to get his point across.
“Calm down, Hank. Remember, I’m fine. Baby’s fine.” Aspen grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach.
After a moment he smiled, the tension once again leaving his body. It was as if his wife had some kind of magic salve or balm running through her system. All she had to do was be near and let him feel their child and he turned to jelly.