“I have to.” He opened the door and went into the hallway. He turned around, tugged on his tie, and offered her a hesitant smile. “See you tomorrow?”
Letting out a frustrated growl, she slammed the door in his face.
He was so good, so honorable, and she wanted to kill him right now.
“Good night, Shel,” he called out, amusement in his voice.
She flipped off the door, and walked away, her entire body trembling, wanting, and empty…and it was all Eric Hamilton’s fault.
Chapter Nine
Eric stood outside her door the next morning, his head foggy and his eyes even more bleary than when he’d “woken” up this morning. He’d sleeplessly tossed and turned until his alarm had gone off, cursing himself out for being a goddamned gentleman. All night long, his cock had throbbed, begging for the release only she could give him, and nothing—not even his own hand and a cold shower—could ease the ache that refusing her request had left behind.
He wanted her, and he’d probably blown his only shot at having her. That was the real kicker. He’d done the right thing; he had no doubt about that. If he’d kissed her last night like she’d asked, it would have destroyed their friendship, and he wasn’t willing to risk that. He wanted her in his life, and if the only way he got to keep her there was by keeping his damn hands to himself, so be it. It might kill him, but he’d keep his fucking hands to himself.
Even when she drank too much and asked him not to.
The door cracked open, and she peeked into the hallway. When she saw him, her cheeks flushed, and the door started to shut again. But then she stiffened, shook her head, and opened it more. As she stepped into the hallway, he scanned over her, taking in every detail. She wore a skirt that fell below her knees, and a light gray blouse that had a bow on the shoulder. Her hair was swept into a loose bun, and she wore minimal makeup.
She looked absolutely fucking beautiful.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, forcing a smile that was faker than the spray tan his boss, Donald, had come into work with yesterday morning. “How are you?”
His lips twitched at her loud voice and even louder enthusiasm. “Good. A little tired, but otherwise fine. Coffee?”
“Thanks,” she said, taking it from him. “You know you don’t have to bring me coffee every morning to get me to talk to you, right?”
“I do know that.” He shrugged and headed for the elevator, keeping his word to himself not to bring up the whole kiss thing unless she brought it up first, which she clearly didn’t want to. “But I go get coffee, anyway, so I figured why not get some for my friend?”
She half laughed. “Right.” She walked into the elevator the second it opened and went to the farthest corner. “Do you have a busy day today?”
“A few cases and a couple of meetings. Nothing too crazy.” He rubbed his shoulder, staring at the numbers as they climbed down from the sixth floor. “Then I’m headed to the SPCA after work.”
That got her attention. “What? Why?”
“I’ve been looking for a dog, now that I’m making junior partner. I’ve met with a few builders about my house, and where I’d like it, so I figured if I find the perfect dog before it’s ready, we’ll just tough it out here in the apartment building until he gets his big yard.”
The doors opened, and she walked out of the elevator. He held the doors open, just in case, and then followed her. “What’s your perfect dog?”
“I don’t really have a breed preference, so to speak, but I want a dog that’s suffered.”
A surprised laugh escaped her. “That’s kind of morbid.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He opened the front door for her then placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her toward his car. “But—”
She dug her heels in. “I can take the bus. You don’t have to drive me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to the same place you are.” Not true. His office was at least ten minutes away from the courthouse—in the opposite direction. But she didn’t need to know that. “Why take a bus, and deal with the hectic rush hour public commute, when you could hop in the car with your friend and chill?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” he said softly. He opened her door for her, shooting her a smile. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
Was it just him, or did she roll her eyes as she got in?
Grinning, he walked around the back, slid in the driver’s side door, and started the car. By the time he kicked it into drive, she’d already buckled up and was sipping her drink. Reaching into the backseat, he pulled out a brown paper bag. “Here you go.”
She stared at the bag, not taking it. “What is it?”
“It’s for you.”
She bit down on her lip, staring at the package like it was a bomb instead of a heated-up pastry. “You don’t have to do this.”
He frowned. “Do what?”
“You know. Be nice, and stuff.”
He cocked a brow. “So, you want me to be mean?”
“Yes. No.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
A laugh escaped him. He couldn’t help it. “Why the hell would you want me to be mean?”
“Because it would be easier for me if you were,” she said honestly. “Every time you open your mouth, I like you a little more. It’s kind of annoying.”
His heart pounded against his ribs. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Sure you are,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow then taking the bag. She looked inside then smiled. “Blueberry.”
“I took a wild guess whether you’d be in a muffin or bagel mood,” he said as he pulled out onto the road and drove.
“You guessed correctly, like usual.” She ripped off a piece of the muffin and closed her eyes, chewing slowly. He’d never been so turned on by someone eating a fucking muffin before. He’d never be able to look at them in the coffee shop case without getting a hard-on from now on. “That’s another horrible habit of yours.”
He laughed, taking it as the joke it was supposed to be. “I’ll see what I can do about fixing that.”
“Please do, for the sake of the rest of the world.”
Shaking his head, he turned left, and they drove in silence as she munched on her breakfast. When she was almost finished, she ripped off a piece and held it in front of his mouth. “Try some. This is the best muffin I’ve had in years.”
He’d had one earlier, but he didn’t mention that as he took the bite out of her fingers, his cock hardening as her fingertips grazed his lips. She jerked back, and he chewed, taking his time, since he needed a damn second to gather his thoughts, anyway. “That’s really fucking good.”
“Right?” she said, forcing a smile as she tucked her fingers under her thigh. “Thank you for the coffee, and the muffin, and the ride.”
“Sure thing. That’s what—”
“Friends are for,” she finished for him, shooting him a look. “So you said.”
“Well, it’s true.”
She nodded, popping the last bite of muffin in her mouth and crumpling up the bag. As she slipped it inside her purse, she asked, “So, about your damaged dog?”
“Huh?” he asked distractedly, checking for traffic before he merged into the right lane. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you want a damaged dog,” she said, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs the other way. “Why?”
“Oh.” He swallowed, his gaze drifting down to her legs where her skirt had ridden up from her shift in position. “Anyone can walk into the store, or the shelter, and pick the puppy that’s small, fluffy, and adorable. It’s an easy choice to make. It’s our human nature to be drawn to beautiful things.”
She looked at him, her lips pursed. “True.”
“Well, a dog that’s suffered has had a horrible life. He’s ratty. Mangled. Scarred. Beaten. Sick.” He turned le
ft on Main Street, waving at an old lady whose will he’d worked on. She brightened, waving with excitement. “Those dogs? The ones with the mats, and the knots, and the scars, visible and invisible? They’re the ones who need a home. They’re the ones who have fought through a shitty life and deserve a good place to live. They’re the ones that need to be rescued. They’re the ones who need the life of luxury a single guy like me can give them. So I’m looking for that dog. The one that needs me to find her. And I’ll love the hell out of that dog once I do.”
She blinked. “Why do you want to do that, though?”
“I guess I just…” Telling her his inner thoughts seemed harder than it should have, and a hell of a lot more intimate than anything physical would have been. “I always had it easy, you know? I come from a wealthy family, and everything just kind of worked out for me. I think this is my way of trying to give some of that luck back to the universe. I want to pass it on to something, or someone, else and let them feel it, too. A dog that’s lived most of his life in a shelter needs that kind of luck, and I’m the kind of guy that can give it to him.”
She was silent.
Completely silent.
That silence went on for so long that when he stopped in front of the courthouse, he turned to her, half expecting her to be looking at him like he was an alien or a monster. But when he turned, she unbuckled her seat belt, closed the distance between them, and kissed his cheek. The feel of her soft lips on his skin was nothing short of miraculous.
There was no other word for it.
As she pulled back, she smiled sadly. “You’re one hell of a man, Eric Hamilton.”
“Do you want to come with me?” he asked, his heart pounding in his head, echoing. “To the shelter?”
She hesitated, her hand on the latch, staring at him like a deer in headlights. “You want me to help you pick out a dog?”
“Uh…” Well, when she said it like that, it sounded awfully relationship-y. If that was even a word. Which it wasn’t. “Never mind—”
At the same time, she said, “Okay.”
“Wait, what?” he asked quickly.
“Unless you don’t want—”
“I want.”
She opened the door. “If you’re sure.”
“Pick you up at five?”
Nodding, she got out of the car.
“Thanks, Shel.”
She leaned in. “Eric?”
“Yeah?” he asked, gripping the steering wheel as he avoided staring at the ample display of cleavage her position gave him.
“That’s what friends are for,” she said, winking and shutting the door. As she walked toward the courthouse, her hips swung, and he couldn’t look away.
Damn it.
Chapter Ten
“But he was cute,” she argued, stepping into her apartment with their take-out food slung over her wrist. “And he licked your face the second you saw him.”
“Exactly his problem.” He followed her in, shutting the door and locking it behind him. “If he’s that quick to love, he’s not the dog for me. I want one I have to win through hard work and dedication for the rest of his doggie life.”
She set the food down on her table and stared at him. “Oh my God.”
“What?” he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.
“That’s why you like me.” She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Because I’m like the dog you want. Hard to win over.”
He laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more.
In fact, he laughed so much that she kind of wanted to punch him.
When he finally pulled himself together, he swiped his hands across his wet cheeks. “You are not, in any way, shape, or form, a damaged dog in need of love. I can’t believe you just made that comparison—”
He peeled in laughter again.
She pulled out the white containers of Chinese food, shaking her head but hiding her face from him because his laughter was infectious. “Maybe not the dog part, but the rest is true. You had to win me over to being your friend.”
He started opening cabinets. “Where’s your silverware?”
“Bottom left,” she called out, smiling as she arranged the food on the table. It was nice, having someone to come home with, and eat dinner with. She’d been on her own for so long that she’d forgotten how nice it was to talk to someone and joke around over a shared meal. But this camaraderie that she and Eric shared reminded her that being alone was…well, lonely.
She hadn’t realized just how lonely she’d been until now.
Closing herself off to people had, at the time, seemed like the best option. If you didn’t let anyone in, they couldn’t hurt you, but if you did, then eventually they would. So, she’d just locked everyone out and saved her heart. But in doing so, she’d lost a piece of herself, too. A piece she hadn’t realized she’d been missing until now.
“Shel?”
She pulled herself from her thoughts. “Yeah?”
“Your phone.” He held it out to her, looking at her intently. “It’s ringing.”
She glanced at it. It wasn’t a number she recognized, so she silenced it and set it down on the table so she wouldn’t see the screen. “Thanks. Sorry, I was gone for a second.”
“Where’d you go?” he asked quietly, sitting down and undoing the sleeves of his shirt.
She watched as he rolled the sleeves up his forearms, baring inches of tanned skin dusted with light brown hair. His muscles flexed as he moved, teasing her, and she swallowed hard. It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out that she wanted to kiss him. They hadn’t been drinking, and all they had out in front of them tonight were two cans of Dr Pepper.
If she asked him to kiss her again…
Would he?
Last night he’d rejected her, and neither of them had brought that up. Was he hoping the topic wouldn’t come up again? Had he decided he liked her better as a friend than as a future conquest to screw and forget? There was only one way to find out, but was she ready for the answer? That was the real question. “What are you doing this weekend? Have any hot plans?”
He opened his container and grabbed a spoon. “Nah. Just going to take it easy, maybe have a meeting with the builder I liked the most, and chill. You?”
“But you always go out on dates on Friday nights.” She cracked open her soda. “You don’t have to hide your sex life from me. We’re friends. Friends talk about that stuff.”
He stared at her, his spoon frozen halfway to his mouth. “If there were something worth hiding, I wouldn’t, but I’m not. I don’t have any dates. I’m taking a break from it all.”
“From what?” she asked slowly, her heart pounding, because even though he hadn’t said it, she couldn’t help but think he was taking a break from women because of her. Which was crazy. Stupid. Presumptuous. But still… “From women?”
“Besides you?” He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“W-Why?”
“Because there’s no one I want to date right now. I need some time to myself.” He set his spoon down. “Why? Would you prefer I sleep around?”
She stared at him. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, either way, right? If you sleep with other women, we’ll still be friends. If you don’t, we’ll still just be friends. So, really, it’s what you’d like to do that matters, not what I want you to do. So sleep with who you want to, or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”
Oh my God, stop talking Shelby.
“But you’d prefer it if I slept around?” he persisted. “It would be easier for you not to like me if I can’t keep my dick in my pants. Then you won’t want me, right?”
She said nothing.
He was spot on, and he knew it.
At her silence, he took his spoon and scooped up some of his meal.
They ate in silence, neither breaking it. When she finished, she leaned back in her chair, picked up her soda, and watched him. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was hard. She knew him well en
ough to know that his jerky motions were signs of annoyance. He didn’t like that she thought he’d still been sleeping around. She, stupidly, liked that he didn’t like that.
So what are you gonna do about it? her inner voice taunted.
Clearing her throat, she broke the silence. “I don’t want you to sleep around, but it would definitely be easier on me if you did,” she admitted. “I don’t want to want you, Eric.”
He pushed his plate away. “Then don’t.”
“I’ve tried that. But then I do something stupid like ask you to kiss me, and once I voiced that desire out loud, it was like it took on a whole new life of its own.” She stared at his mouth, licking her lips. She was doing it again. Thinking about kissing him. Judging from the way he shifted in his chair, he noticed. “I can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to have your mouth on mine.”
He stood, his body stiff, and walked over to her. “If you want to find out, all you have to do is ask.”
“That would be a horrible idea.” She stood, her body trembling, and rested her hands on his chest. He was so hard under his crisp cotton shirt. “The worst.”
“Everyone needs to make bad decisions sometimes.” He gripped her hips, pulling her closer in one tug. “I don’t think we’re bad, though.”
“But—”
“I see you, Shel. I see the way you look at me, and underneath those gorgeous blue eyes of yours is a desire to live. And you know what? I feel it, too. With you. I’ve lived a hell of a lot. Done stupid shit. Made mistakes. But with you, I feel like I’m alive for the first time in years. When you look at me, I recognize that same look in your eyes, that same feeling that this thing between us could be amazing. So unless you can look me in the eye, right now, and tell me I’m wrong, I’m not giving up on you. I’ll keep waiting until you see what’s in front of you. What’s been here since the second I looked up from my busy life and finally saw you.”
She fisted his shirt. “I do see it. That’s the problem.”
“It’s only a problem if you let it be,” he said.
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