“I’ll help you with these boxes,” I say. “You can get started with these two.”
“Sure.”
I come around the desk and stand next to her as I grab one of the file boxes. She leans over at the same time, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. She smells womanly, sweet, delicate. My cock throbs against my leg as her scent envelops me. I clear my throat and pick up the box, taking a step away from her.
My head is spinning. Nicole opens the door and holds it with her leg as I walk through. Neither of us speaks until we’re at her desk. Her eyes flick to me, and she nods.
“I’ll get you the first motion drafted by this evening.”
“Good.” I clear my throat, and then drum my knuckles on her desk. I inhale, and then nod. Turning back toward the hallway, I walk with as much purpose as I can muster. I can feel her eyes on my back, and I force myself not to turn around to check.
9
Nicole
“What’s going on there?” Clarissa says, leaning toward me. She pokes her head above the cubicle partition to see Martin walking away.
“What do you mean?”
She looks at me with an arched eyebrow.
“I’ve never seen Martin Henderson help anyone with boxes of files, ever. Even when he was a junior lawyer.”
I frown. “What? Really?”
Clarissa nods. “Either he likes you, or he’s worried about something else. I know which one I think it is,” she grins.
“It’s probably just the case,” I reply. My heart thumps and I glance down the hallway after him. What if it isn’t just the case? I shake my head and take a deep breath. He told me when I first started that this is work, and work needs to be respected. I agree with that. We haven’t crossed any lines.
Besides, he’s so hot and cold that I can’t keep up. He definitely doesn’t seem to like me. In any case, we’ve been able to work together for nearly two months, so why would this be any different?
It is different, though. I learn that over the next two weeks. Martin and I work more closely together than we have before, and I realize why he was made partner. Even with the rest of his paying caseload, he puts his heart and soul into the pro bono case.
On Thursday night, the two of us stay late to finish up some work that needs to be submitted to the court Friday morning. I’m sitting on the sofa in his office, and I glance up at him. His fingers are threaded through his hair as he leans over the files. He’s writing furiously, and the light of his desk lamp is illuminating all the angles of his face.
He’s terribly handsome. He’s terribly handsome and terribly, heartbreakingly unavailable.
Then again—what am I? I’m the definition of unavailable.
Sensing me looking at him, he glances up. His tongue slides out to lick his lips, and then he stretches his arms up over his head and cracks his neck.
“How do you feel about Chinese food?”
“I feel pretty good about Chinese food.”
He picks up his phone. “I’m getting some. My stomach is rumbling.”
“I think my stomach has developed an entire language in the past thirty minutes.” I drop a file back on the coffee table and lean back on the sofa. “It hasn’t stopped making noise. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it from over there.”
Martin grins. “I didn’t want to say anything, but...”
“Why, Mr. Henderson! Did you just make a joke?”
I put my hand to my chest and drop my jaw in mock surprise. He grins wide enough for his dimples to appear, and then balls up a piece of paper and throws it at me. It falls to the floor a couple feet short and I shake my head.
“Good thing you went into law and not basketball.”
“Watch your mouth, Martinez. I could have you fired.”
I snort, arching an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to impress me?”
“It’s supposed to scare you.”
“Try harder.”
His eyes blaze through me, leaving me breathless from across the room. My panties are suddenly soaked, as they so often are when Martin turns his eyes on me. I shift in my seat and turn back to my work.
I smell the food before I see it. My ears perk up at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. When the delivery driver gives us the food, it takes all my self-control not to descend on it like a wild dog.
Martin hands me a container and I tuck in. He comes to sit next to me on the couch, and we both groan in contentment.
“Good call.”
“Sometimes being a big shot is a good thing.” He sticks his chopsticks into a container of noodles.
I laugh. We both lean back on the couch and eat in silence. Finally, I turn to him.
“What happened with your wife? You think it was medical misconduct?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t know. It’s a blur. I don’t really remember that week at all. Doctors were constantly asking me to make decisions and to sign things and consent to this procedure and that procedure. We lost the baby right away, and I think I was just in shock.”
I nod, poking at my food.
“She was fine,” he says. “She was fine, and then the next thing I know, she’s in the hospital. I wasn’t even there when she passed out—I was at work.” His voice tightens, and the muscles in his jaw twitch. He sighs, shaking his head. “I guess with this case, I feel like at least I can make a difference in one person’s life. It won’t bring Brianne back, but she’d have liked me taking the case.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes.
“I think the shock makes it worse,” I hear myself saying. “Jack and I were up in Aspen skiing for the weekend. We were driving back on Sunday evening and then got side swiped by a car. We spun into a tree. Jack died, and I broke my back.”
“You broke your back?”
I grimace. “Yeah. I had to learn to walk again, and I only got cleared for work a couple months ago after begging my doctor to clear me. Thank fuck, because the medical bills were starting to become a problem.”
“Did Jack not have life insurance?”
I snort bitterly.
Martin shakes his head. “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
“No, we did. That’s what makes this whole thing so messed up. The insurance company keeps stalling. They’ve asked me for Jack’s medical records about four times so far, and they keep asking me about the ski trip. It’s like they’re gearing up to deny the claim. I think they might try to say that skiing isn’t covered in the policy, even though we were driving. I’m getting to the point where I don’t really care. Why would I care about money when everything else has gone to shit?”
“Fucking insurance companies,” Martin spits. “They just prey on vulnerable people.”
I chuckle and take another bite of noodles. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this stuff. I didn’t mean to hijack the conversation. We were talking about you.”
“It’s all the same,” Martin says, putting his hand on my knee. The touch sends my head spinning. My heart bounces off my ribcage and I glance at him. Without realizing what I’m doing, I put my hand over his.
“Life just sucks sometimes.” His hand tightens on my knee, sending another flutter of heartbeats through my chest.
“It does.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m just trying to make it suck a little bit less.”
I tighten my fingers around his and smile. His eyes drop to my lips, and heat burns through my body. I squeeze my thighs together. My breath is shallow, and I don’t want to move.
Then, Martin pulls his hand away. I straighten up, biting back my disappointment.
What did I expect? That he would ravage me right here in his office?
I clear my throat, stacking the takeout containers and wiping my lips on a napkin.
“Thanks for the food… And the chat.”
“Let’s get this done and get out of here,” he says. “I know it’s time to call it a night when I’m rambling about my status as a widower.”
“You weren’t ra
mbling.” I put the takeout containers in a neat stack on the table and then turn to him. His eyes linger on mine, and then he nods.
“You’re not as bad as I thought you were that day at the pool.”
I burst out laughing. “Gee, thanks. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”
A grin spreads across his lips and he shrugs. “Just being honest.”
“Well, if we’re being honest, you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either.”
“Insufferable! That’s rich, coming from you.” He shifts on the couch and his thigh brushes against mine. I bite my lip.
“I think you like me talking back to you. You like the fact that I don’t put up with your shit.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But the fact that you’re strong-willed does have a certain… appeal.” His voice is a low growl. It sends primal desire tingling through my body, from my fingertips to my toes. My whole body screams at me to touch him, grab him, kiss him, never let him go.
I sit, unmoving.
My breath catches in my throat. His thigh is still touching mine, and it feels like all the blood in my body is rushing between my legs. I swallow.
I can’t think straight. The heat coming from his body is making my head spin. Why does he have to smell so freaking good all the time? His eyes are staring into mine and I could get lost in them. His chest rises and falls with every breath, and I inhale. The fresh, manly scent of his cologne fills my nostrils and another wave of desire washes over me.
He leans closer to me, sliding his arm across the back of the couch. My heart hammers. My eyes flick to his lips, and my tongue slides out to lick my own. He follows the movement, moving his other hand to my thigh. It slides up the inside of my leg as he moves closer. I lean into him and—
His phone rings.
He freezes, dropping his chin to his chest. He pulls the phone out of his pocket and clears his throat, glancing at me.
I shift away from him, picking up the empty takeout containers. I stand up as he answers the phone, busying myself with tidying up. He stands up and I walk out of the office to get rid of the containers. By the time I come back, he’s sitting behind his desk.
He keeps his head down as I walk in. “If you make copies of the exhibits, I’ll be able to put this together now. You can get out of here, then. Get some rest.”
“Sure,” I say, gathering the documents. I steal a glance toward him, but I already know the moment is gone.
10
Martin
Nicole and I wave awkwardly to each other in the parking lot and go our separate ways. I take my time getting in my car, giving her enough time to drive away.
With a deep sigh, I put my hands on the steering wheel and lean my forehead against it. That was too far. I almost kissed her. Fuck knows I wanted to kiss her.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that I didn’t. I take a deep breath and sit back in my seat.
Then, I put my car in gear and drive out after her. Instead of turning toward home, I head in the opposite direction. I can’t be alone right now, I need to take the edge off.
I park the car outside the bar. ‘Jaime’s Bar’ shines back at me in bright lights—he’s had the sign redone. The front of the building has also been repainted, and the place isn’t looking half bad. The last time I visited my best friend—when was it, exactly? Six months ago? —his bar was looking run down. I get out and lock my car, heading for the entrance.
As soon as I walk in, I hear my name being called. Jaime’s behind the bar, arms extended toward me.
“Marty!” A smile spreads across his face. “Buddy!”
I grin and my shoulders relax a bit. I slide onto a stool at the end of the bar. Jaime shakes my hand, and then leans on the bar between us.
“To what do I owe the honor?” He grins. “You haven’t been out on a school night since our undergrad years.”
“And you haven’t been in on a school night since then.”
Jaime laughs, grabs a rag and starts wiping the bar down. “That’s the life of a bar owner.”
“Sometimes I think you were the smart one.”
“You think?” His eyes twinkle as he grins. They’re still as bright blue as when we were in college, even if his hairline has receded a few inches. I’m sure I don’t look like the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed young man I was then, either.
I grin. “Yeah. I thought you were crazy for dropping out and buying this place, but now look. You’re happier and healthier than I am.”
“You work too much, man.”
“Yeah. I have no choice, man. I’m like a shark—if I stop swimming, I die.”
“Is that true, about sharks? I always thought that was a myth.”
I shrug. “I don’t know, I’m not a biologist.”
Jaime grins, shaking his head. “I thought you were gone forever. Haven’t seen you much since…” He trails off.
“Since Brianne died.”
His eyebrows arch. “Yeah. Since Brianne died. I’ve also never heard you say those words out loud.”
“No?” I clear my throat. Jaime reaches up to the top shelf and pulls down a bottle. Then, he pours me a big drink and slides it toward me. I nod. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I figured I would have mentioned it once or twice.”
“Grief is a funny thing.”
I take a deep breath and stare at the glass. It’s his finest scotch, a bottle I bought him for his wedding. He usually only lets me or his wife drink it.
One of the other bar patrons yells across the bar at him, and Jaime just waves him away. He nods to the waitress, and she moves behind the bar to start pouring drinks. Jaime pours himself a drink and comes around to sit next to me.
“You’re staring at that drink like it’s going to tell you all the secrets of the universe.” He laughs at his own joke, just like he always does. “I can tell you from experience, and from watching lots of people try that tactic… that drink won’t tell you anything.”
I grin and take a sip. It’s smokier than I remember, but otherwise takes me back to happier days. I close my eyes and sigh until the flavor has settled on my tongue.
“I took a pro bono case,” I say.
“Oh yeah?” Jaime sits beside me, staring at his drink, pretending like his ears didn’t just perk up.
“It’s a medical misconduct case, for a miscarriage.”
“Jesus fucking—Marty, are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I laugh, shrugging. “Yeah, actually. It’s the best I’ve felt in a long time. It feels like I might actually make a difference in my client’s life. I can’t bring back her baby—or mine, or Brianne—but, I don’t know. It feels like I’m atoning.”
“Atoning for what, Marty?” He glances at me, his eyes sharp.
I shrug. My heart squeezes. I never told him about the accident, or why I was late to the hospital. I never told him how guilty I felt for being an hour away from Brianne when she lost consciousness.
Jaime shakes his head, snorting softly. “You scare me when you start saying that kind of shit, you know that?”
“Why would that scare you?”
“Because it sounds to me like you blame yourself for Brianne’s passing.”
“I don’t.”
“You shouldn’t.”
We both take a slow drink, and I stare at the liquid again.
“There’s a new woman at work,” I blurt out.
Jaime stiffens beside me, but his voice stays casual when he speaks. “Oh yeah?”
“I don’t know what to think of her. She reminds me of Brianne, but different. She has that same kind of attitude, but she’s…” I sigh. “I don’t know. She’s been through a lot. She doesn’t have the carefree sort of spirit that Brianne had.”
“Brianne was special.”
I nod. A lump forms in my throat. “The thing is…” I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
“Because we’re friends. Because you were
my best man. Because you can.”
I swallow and continue where I left off. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’d be able to deal with Brianne’s carefree positivity. This girl—this woman—that I work with, she’s… real. She gets it.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Forget it.”
“It’s okay to move on, Marty. Brianne would have wanted it.”
My eyes prickle and the lump in my throat gets bigger. “Yeah,” I croak. “It feels wrong.”
Jaime is silent for a while. He nods to the girl behind the bar, and she passes over the bottle of scotch. He refills our glasses without a word, and then takes a sip.
“You know, Marty.” He takes a deep breath, letting the light catch his drink. He doesn’t look at me, and I’m grateful for it. “There’s something I haven’t told you before.”
The back of my neck prickles. I turn toward him.
“What do you mean?”
“The first time Brianne went to the hospital, when I drove her—”
“And I was in the fucking mountains.”
“You were at work,” he corrects me, his face crumpling. “She—ah, fuck, Marty. I don’t know if I should be telling you this.”
“Well it’s too late now.” I comb my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Spit it out.”
He takes a deep breath. “I think she knew something was wrong. She was white as a sheet, lying in that hospital bed. Her hand was shaking and it was so cold. I was holding it, like this.” He turns his hand on the bar, palm facing up.
His voice chokes up, and he clears it with a sip of scotch.
“She told me that if anything happened to her, I had to make sure you moved on. She said—” he inhales and shakes his head. “She said that she didn’t want you turning into one of the lawyers that you hate just because she was gone.”
I can’t look at him. My hand tightens on the glass of scotch, and I nod my head a few times.
“That’s easier said than done,” I finally manage to croak.
Jaime sighs. “I know. It didn’t seem right to tell you before. You… you just disappeared. This is the first time I’ve heard you mention any other woman.”
Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series Page 5