“What are you doing here?” I said to Cole, my tone light. “Do I need to file a restraining order?” He stood, buttoning his blazer and checking the room around us before lowering his voice. “I got all the juicy details on your schedule, remember? And only if that order means I get to restrain you.” He winked playfully. “You were brilliant in there,” he exclaimed. “Shhh. We’re in court.” I chuckled quietly, relieved by the absence of tension after how we’d left things last night. “Court’s no longer in session. The judge said so himself,” he said adorably, which was a rare feat for Cole. On the
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