Maria lifted a brow. “‘Thing’? Like a date thing?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“Liar.” Maria smiled.
She didn’t have time to get into details, so she’d have to explain later. “I can’t fool you either. Guess that makes you annoying, too.”
Maria chuckled. “Have fun. I want details in the morning. Especially if he’s hung like a donkey,” she whispered.
Sarah gulped. Maria’s comment had been oddly accurate.
“Maria!” yelled her hubby, Franco, from inside. “Something’s burning!”
“Then go take care of it!” Maria yelled back and shrugged. “Men. So helpless.”
“That’s why they have us!” Sarah laughed, pushed open her door, and started running up the stairs. “I’ll see you at work in the morn…” Sarah’s voice faded.
Whatthefuck? Her eyes took one look at her apartment, and her heart stilled. Someone trashed her place.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sarah didn’t know how long she’d stood there frozen in a state of shock. Someone had come into her home, broken her television, scattered her paperwork, threw her plants on the floor, and emptied every drawer.
Oh shit. Oh shit. The person might still be inside, hiding and waiting for her to come home.
She quickly turned to run downstairs to Maria’s, but she slammed right into a warm, hard wall.
“Fuck!” She fell back and landed flat on her ass, barely escaping the shards of glass.
“Sarah.” Colton stood inside the doorway in his black leather pants and a faded gray T-shirt. He had on a Giants hat and mirrored sunglasses. “You okay?” He extended his hand.
She blinked at him. “What are you doing…” She didn’t want to have the thought that came next, but she did. “How do you know where I live?”
She hopped to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand.
“Luci told me.” He looked around the room. “Love your decorating style, but it’s a little too postapocalyptic for my taste.”
“Did you do this, Colton?”
“What? Why would I?” Colton replied defensively.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you tore up Luci’s living room last night when you couldn’t find your notebook?”
“I did?” He slid a spiral-bound notebook from his pocket.
Her jaw dropped. “You broke into my house!”
“I just got here, Sarah.” He started flipping through the pages.
“Then what’s in your hand?”
“I bought a new one this morning and spent the day writing everything I could remember.”
Sarah frowned, wanting to believe him but knowing that he wasn’t entirely in control of his faculties.
Colton glanced down, down, down at her—dang, he was so tall—noticing her rage. “Here. Take the damned thing if you don’t believe me.” Colton handed it to her. “I remember you telling me you read the last one, so you know what’s in it.”
She reluctantly took the pad from his hand and flipped through it. The notes were different. In fact, the first five or six pages were things he remembered about her. Soft brown hair. Sapphire blue eyes. A sweet smile and kissable lips.
She didn’t know what to make of it other than it was incredibly sweet. Now I feel like a judgy bitch. She looked up at him and found a very irate Colt. Annnnd…wonderful. Now he’s pissed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, handing it back. “I shouldn’t have accused you.”
He crossed his arms over his broad, muscled chest, but didn’t speak.
“Okay. So if this wasn’t you—” she grabbed him by the arm “—we need to leave.”
He followed behind her, down the stairs to Maria’s front door. “Maria!” Sarah knocked hard.
Franco answered wearing a red apron. He was a medium-height man with a bald head, dark skin, and a twinkle in his eyes that always made him look happy.
“Can we come in?” said Sarah, pushing past Franco. “There’s been a break-in upstairs.”
“Honey! Get in here!” Franco yelled over his shoulder, stepping aside.
Maria appeared from the kitchen with a dishtowel thrown over her shoulder, but the moment her eyes landed on Colton, she froze and her mouth dropped.
“Maria! Break-in,” Sarah reminded her.
“Huh?” Maria shook her head. “Oh. Uhhh…”
“Did you hear anything?” Sarah asked.
“No,” replied Franco, “and I’ve been home for a few hours.”
“Christ.” Sarah sighed exasperatedly and slipped her phone from her pocket. She dialed 9-1-1, advised them who she was and that it was unclear if anyone might still be inside her apartment. “Okay, they’ll be here in a few.”
“What about him?” Maria jerked her head toward Colton. “I don’t think you want him as part of the police report. I know I wouldn’t.”
Sarah immediately connected the dots. It would look…well, not good if Colton was reported to be at her home during a break-in. The press would speculate he was involved somehow since she was the presiding judge in his case and he had a reputation of being reckless. If she came to his defense, she’d have to explain why he was there, and that would only lead to more speculation—tabloid style. With the last round, where she’d been videotaped telling Colton to take off his pants, she couldn’t imagine this next one would be any less painful.
“Colton, you stay here in Maria’s house.”
“Why?” he asked.
“The last thing you need is being part of an investigation.” She glanced at Maria, who continued drooling over Colton.
“Maria—” Sarah snapped her fingers “—your husband is standing right there.”
Maria jolted back. “Oh sorry, honey. It’s just that Colton Young—Colton Frigging-Young!—is standing in my living room.” She sighed.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Can he go into Tony and Ben’s bedroom?” Sarah asked. Anthony was ten and Benjamin was twelve.
Maria got all excited. “Yes! Of course! They’re doing their homework, but I’m sure they’d love to meet you, Colton. Right this way.”
“Please. Call me Colt.”
“Okaaay,” she said like a flirty disaster, “Colt, right this way.”
Colton followed Maria down the hallway and disappeared into the last room, where the sounds of two little boys yelling, “What! Ohmygod! It’s Colton Young!” erupted.
Franco shrugged. “They’re big fans, I guess.”
Good thing Franco was a confident person, because most other men would be feeling small and insignificant right about now.
Sarah took a breath. “If you see Colton acting weird—disoriented or panicking—come and get me, okay?”
Franco gave her a concerned look—brows pulled together, head tilted to the side.
“Oh, he’s not dangerous,” Sarah added, trying to think up an excuse for her comment. It wasn’t her place to tell anyone about Colton’s condition. “He gets…claustrophobic. Your house is a lot smaller than what he’s used to. You know those musicians and their cribs.”
“Uhhh…all right.” Franco so knew she was lying.
“Be right back.” Sarah went out the front door to greet the police, hoping and praying nothing happened to Colton while he was down here at Maria’s.
God. I’m hiding Colton Young in my bailiff’s kids’ room. From the police. Because someone trashed my apartment.
Life was getting pretty strange. And messy. But somehow she suspected it was about to get messier. This break-in. The crazy driver. Colton Young. She could practically feel the something bad hanging in the air.
An hour and a half later, Sarah stood on the porch, thanking the two officers—Linda and Samantha, whom she knew well from work—for coming so promptly and taking care of everything. Somewhere in the middle of it all, a detective from burglary showed up, too—a Detective Cho, who brought in a few arrests to her court every week. Though nothing was missing, Cho still fingerprinted the entry door and the drawers that had been removed f
rom the entertainment center and end tables—really, anything that would have to be grabbed with one’s hand.
“See you later!” Sarah waved them off and closed her front door, watching through the peephole until they were gone. Coast is clear. She darted outside and into Maria and Franco’s. “Okay. They’re gone. Everything okay?”
Maria and Franco sat at their dining table, right behind their toy-cluttered living room, talking over empty plates of spaghetti and sipping red wine.
“Yeah,” said Maria with a strange little smirk. “They’re playing with Colton’s guitar.”
If Sarah didn’t know any better, Maria was up to something. Or perhaps Sarah had walked in on a private conversation. Those two were always talking dirty to each other. It was really sweet, actually—to be so in love and have energy for each other even after two kids, two full-time jobs, and long days.
“Where’d he get a guitar?” Sarah asked.
“It was out in his Ferrari. I went and got it for them,” said Franco. “He even let me drive his car around the block, but it was very disappointing compared to the minivan Maria made me buy.” His tone reeked of sarcasm.
“Oh, stop,” said Maria. “The minivan has Wi-Fi. What more can a man who likes to sneak out to the garage in the middle of the night to watch porn ask for?”
Franco’s little smirk melted away, and Sarah tried to erase the unwelcome mental image from her brain.
Satisfied that she’d won that little round of marital digging, Maria leaned into the table and whispered to Sarah, “Hey, so why did Colton show up here?”
“Don’t you want to know about the intruder upstairs?” Sarah asked.
Maria shook her head. “No. I’m a very good shot. Anyone comes in here and they’re dead. So why’s he here?”
It was too long of a story to tell her, so Sarah went with: “Sex.”
Maria’s jaw dropped.
Sarah went on, “He said he couldn’t get my sexy, sexy black muumuu out of his mind, so he came here to ravish me. I think we might try anal.”
Franco, who’d just had a sip from his glass, ejected red wine from his nostrils across the table and began cracking up.
Maria caught on and sneered. “You’re a mean bitch. I can’t believe I let my children play with you.”
“I know, right? Be right back.” Sarah went down the hallway and heard Tony and Ben laughing. The faint sound of a guitar strummed in the background.
Sarah knocked, and shushing ensued. What were they up to?
“Come in,” said Colton in an exaggeratedly baritone voice.
Sarah cracked open the door and found Colton sitting on Tony’s twin bed with the Yoda comforter, a guitar in hand. Tony and Ben sat on the blue rug in front of him with their legs crossed, their big brown eyes like saucers. They all looked guilty as sin.
“Whaaat are you boys up to?” she asked suspiciously.
Colton’s grin filled with mischief. “Tony, Ben, and I have written a new song. I’m sure it will be a number one single. Wanna hear?”
Standing in the doorway, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. “Sure. Why not?”
“You’re going to love it. I promise,” said Colton, while the boys held back their laughter. “Okay, ready?” He dipped his head and strummed slowly as if he were about to sing an old cowboy campfire song.
“There was once…” strum, strum “a judge named Sarah,” the boys joined in, giggle-singing, “who was fierce and smart, I am told…” strum, strum.
“Oh no. Please stop.” Sarah held out her hands, feeling entirely terrified. A song about her could not be going to a good place.
“No way! We worked hard on this,” Colton said with a quick breath and continued singing with an extra-deep voice. “But people say she has a secret, and that secret…” strum, strum, “was under…” strum, strum, “her…robe!” He gave the boys the nod. “Okay. Faster now!” Colton began picking up the tempo.
“Sarah’s got no clothes on under her robe, but she’s got a gun,
“She hates criminals and bad guys, so you’d better run,
“Sarah’s got no clothes on under her robe.”
By this time the two boys were in hysterics, rolling on the floor.
“Funny, guys,” Sarah said, trying not to smile. “Really funny. I wear clothes under my robe!”
Colton slowed down on the guitar, but sped up his lyrics. “Sarah. The beautiful, naked, gunslinging, wild, wild woman, with an iron fist, who makes bad men quake in their boots and whimper under desks in the fetal position.” He drew a breath and slowed his singing. “Sarah. The naked. Judge.” Colton raised his hand high in the air and brought it down hard over the strings, making a dramatic ending to the song.
“Wow. That was awful,” Sarah said, shaking her head.
The boys continued laughing, hugging their stomachs and sputtering about her being naked under her robe.
“Now see what you did?” Sarah said glibly. “They’re going to think Auntie Sarah is some sort of nudist deviant. With a gun.”
“We like guns!” said Ben, the twelve-year-old.
“I’m completely wounded,” said Colton, feigning insult. “We thought you’d appreciate a tribute to your secret lifestyle.”
“That was extremely inappropriate. They’re little boys.”
“No, we’re not,” argued Tony. “And our mother says you probably have nightmares all the time about being naked because you’re afraid of showing your true self.”
Maria is behind this? She is so going to pay. Sarah had once confessed that she had nightmares about forgetting to wear clothes to work.
“Hey, you weren’t supposed to tell on your mom.” Colton shook his head at Tony.
Tony gave Sarah a pouty look. “Sorry, Auntie Sarah. We wanted to make you feel better.”
Sarah bit back a smile. They were too cute. Then she noticed Colton. His rosy lips stretched from ear to ear in the world’s biggest smile. His dimples puckered under his golden brown stubble. His entire face beamed with confidence. All framed by his soft waves of golden brown hair cascading to his broad shoulders. So sexy. Sigh…Sarah’s knees wobbled, and her core tingled.
Colton suddenly noticed her noticing him, and their eyes locked.
“Well,” she said, clearing her throat and realizing the moment was about to get awkward if she continued standing there beaming at him, “let’s get Mr. Young on his way. I know he needs to get back to St. Helena.”
He flashed a cocky smile at Sarah. “Actually, I don’t need to return until morning; finished all my chores for the day. But I know these young men have homework to do.” Colton stood.
Ben jumped up and wrapped his arms around Colton’s waist, smooshing his chubby little cheeks into Colton’s midriff. “Come back and play guitar with us again. You’re the coolest.”
Colton blinked, looking a little surprised. He then smiled. “Well, with an invitation like that, who can say no?” He ruffled the top of Ben’s dark hair.
For a split second, Sarah could imagine Colton as a daddy. Playing music. Goofing around.
Crap. He really needs to go. The more time she spent with him, catching tiny glimpses of the man behind the legend, the hotter he got.
“All right, you.” Sarah peeled Ben off Colton. “Hey, how come I never get awesome hugs like that when I come over to sit?”
Ben looked up at her with his big brown eyes. “Because you’re a scary judge.”
“Wow.” Were men genetically predisposed to fear women in authority? “Thanks, little man. But just remember who’s going to get you off of drunk driving charges when you’re sixteen.”
They all looked at her.
“Sorry. Bad joke,” she admitted. “I can’t actually get you out of that. And you should never drink and drive. Alrighty, time to go.”
Colton followed her out into the living room, where Colton said goodbye and shook Franco’s hand while Maria stared and giggled. “Come back anytime—teeheehee.”
Sarah pre
tended that had not just happened. “Well, I have a lot of cleaning up to do.” She still couldn’t believe some asshole had broken into her place and trashed it. If she weren’t so angry, she’d be panicking.
“We’ll come up and help,” said Franco, “after we get the kids all squared away with homework.”
“That’s all right,” Colton said. “I’m staying the night. I’ll help her.”
Sarah’s very shocked head whipped in his direction. “What? No, you aren’t.”
“You’re so nice.” Maria swooned.
“I am, aren’t I?” Colton agreed.
“Uhhh…thanks, guys. For everything.” Sarah smiled through her teeth. This guy was absolutely not spending the night.
As Colton passed her, he whispered in her ear, “If I work hard, maybe you’ll let me put the tip in.”
Sarah held back a gasp. What? Ohmygod. This guy. “After that song, I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sarah did her best to get rid of Colton, but the man was more stubborn than a dead mule.
Okay, gory analogy. But she did not like the idea of him staying. Not even for a few minutes, but he simply wouldn’t go.
Dangit. What if someone saw him coming in? What if they saw him leaving? It would only compound the level of complexity to an already messed-up situation.
“I promise if I find your notebook, I’ll call you ASAP. But you really have to leave, Colton,” she insisted, watching him ignore every word while he swept the broken glass and dirt from the floor. “Coltooon?” she growled. “You can’t stay.”
He began whistling happily and bent over, giving her a very nice view of his famous ass in those famous leather pants.
You’re so sexy, Colton, but that won’t save you.
She marched over, bent down, and took the dustpan away from him. “Out, Colton.”
He stood up straight, towering over her, his playful little smile completely vanished. “You really want me to go?”
No. Not really. But you have to.
They locked eyes for a moment, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that looking up at his face made her all Jell-O-ey, but that was her being superficial and sexual.