“And I also want to have costumes there for those who don’t have any, in case they want to dress up,” she added. “We can make it a cool station or something so they don’t feel awkward about it. I’m working out the cost now—”
“I’ve got it. Give me the details and I’ll sort it out.”
Her eyes widened and I felt my cheeks heating under her scrutiny. Jesus. Fuck.
“It’s no big deal,” I added, my voice gruffer than I intended it to be.
“It’s really sweet.”
Fuck. Shit. Fuck.
“I’m a guy. By definition I am not sweet,” I grumbled.
Her lips twitched. “You’re right. My apologies.” She leaned forward across my desk, lowering her voice to a mock whisper. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them about what a hard-ass you are, how you eat 1Ls for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
It was the words “lips,” and “hard-ass,” that made me do it. I’d been thinking about those kids, honestly I had, and then she said, “lips,” and my gaze went immediately to her mouth. At “hard-ass,” the erection that had been dissipating sprang back to life as I thought of her ass in my hands. And then she leaned forward, and because my brain was temporarily disengaged, I did the thing I’d been dying to do since I’d seen her this morning.
I tugged on her ponytail.
The absurdity of the motion caught us both off guard, and we froze as I reached out and grabbed a fistful of the swinging hair.
Silky. Soft. Perfect.
I wanted to feel the strands on my stomach when she went down on me, wanted to wrap my fingers around her long hair, holding it like a rope binding her to me.
Her lips parted at my touch, her eyes full of heat. I wondered if she’d kiss me back if I leaned forward another inch, if I gave in to temptation. The breathy sigh that escaped her lips answered my question better than words could have.
We stayed like that for a moment, as if we both knew that moving forward was impossible, but neither one of us wanted to pull away.
And then finally, when the nearness became almost unbearable, I released my hold on her, leaning back into my chair, trying to convince myself that I had more self-control than I obviously did.
She blinked and shifted in her seat, her back straight. I waited for her to freak out, half expected her to get up and leave. But Blair Reynolds never gave me what I expected.
I almost thought she’d been totally unaffected by the moment that had passed between us. Almost.
But some things you just couldn’t hide.
Like the way her chest rose and fell as if no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite catch her breath. Or how tightly she held her hands together in her lap, her knuckles white, as though she held on for dear life.
Chapter Eleven
Four days away from the election, another day, another Reynolds campaign event with the Reynolds sisters conspicuously absent. It’s difficult to campaign on “family values” when you’ve driven your own family away . . .
—Capital Confessions blog
Blair
I closed my phone’s browser, already dreading the call I’d receive from my mother. I figured the only reason she hadn’t shown up on my doorstep was the fact that I was never home, considering I was pulling twelve-hour days at the law school, not to mention how busy I’d been planning for the Halloween carnival.
And now that it was here, it had all been worth it.
Greenwood Middle School’s gym was a shrine to Halloween. I’d gotten my twenty volunteers—more like forty, once Gray had issued his extra credit offer. Everyone was dressed up in costumes, and we had stations set up throughout with masks and more, that thanks to Gray’s generous donation, would make sure all the kids got a chance to participate. There were tables with games and prizes, a ton of food that I’d called in every favor I could think of to get donated, and lastly, dry ice punch in a giant black cauldron. I was still putting the finishing touches on it.
“I didn’t realize you included ‘miracle worker’ among your many talents.”
I whirled around and collided with a hard, black-sweater-clad wall. Gah. I looked up into Gray’s dark eyes.
“Where’s your costume?”
He grinned. “I could ask you the same.” He leaned closer, his lips inches from my ear. “Disappointed not to see horns and a pitchfork?” he teased.
I laughed nervously, trying to focus on the mental image of him wearing a forked tail and not how good he smelled.
“I’m devastated.”
“Where’s yours?” he countered, gesturing at my jeans and T-shirt.
“I’m planning on dressing up. I was just putting the finishing touches on the punch.” Behind me, the ice smoked out of the cauldron, the perfect witch’s brew. “I think I put in too much eye of newt,” I joked. “Or maybe it was too few snake eyes. It’s a tricky recipe to get right.”
His smile deepened, his eyes twinkling.
I felt my cheeks redden and I jerked my head away, my gaze settling on one of the costume stations. I turned my back to him, striding over to the box, rifling through it until I found a white Phantom of the Opera–style mask. I figured he would object to dressing in a full costume, but the mask seemed like a good compromise.
“Here.” I held it out to him. “You have to dress up.” I gave him my most persuasive smile. “It’s for the kids.”
He took the mask from my hands, our fingers brushing beneath the plastic. I expected him to pull away, but instead his fingers curled around mine and squeezed. It was just a moment, a whisper of a moment, and then it was gone.
Gray looked away first, staring down at the mask in hand.
“Phantom of the Opera, huh? Seems appropriate.”
I was surprised he recognized it. Something about people spontaneously breaking into song didn’t quite fit his no-nonsense image.
“I’ve read the book,” he offered, answering my unspoken question.
I didn’t know why this surprised me, but it did. He was so smart that I should have pegged him as a reader, but I supposed I had such an image of him built up in my mind that it was hard to see him doing something as normal as reading.
“It’s one of my favorites,” I volunteered.
It was one of the few books I’d read in high school English that I’d actually enjoyed.
“Let me guess? You rooted for the dashing Raoul and the lovely Christine to overcome evil and find their happy ending together.”
I shook my head.
His brow quirked. “No?”
“Raoul kind of annoyed me. I know he was supposed to be the hero and exciting, but he just blended into the background. Actually, I felt sorry for the Phantom.”
He looked genuinely perplexed by my answer. “Why? He was a monster.”
“He wasn’t a monster. He was lonely. He was hurting, and found peace in a girl who didn’t love him. He did terrible things, but he loved her. All he wanted was for her to love him back.”
“And that makes what he did okay?” Gray countered, the lawyer coming out in full force.
“No, but that’s what makes it sad rather than romantic.”
His eyes got soft and he gave me the expression he’d shared in the car.
“Blair.” My name rolled off of his lips somewhere between a groan and a whisper. As if it was something he hid inside himself, in the depths of his soul.
I’d always been a softie. Kate teased me for bawling at holiday commercials . . . movies . . . sentimental greeting cards. But it wasn’t just that I tended to feel other people’s hurts as if they were my own. It was that his hurt felt like my own. And I couldn’t bear the weight of it in my chest.
I tilted my chin to meet his gaze, to let myself drown in those beautiful eyes, and my ponytail swished forward over my shoulder. Desire flared in his eyes at the same time I remembered his reaction to my hair in his office, and then his hand lifted and hovered in midair.
He released an o
ath, his hand jerking back down to his side as if he’d been burned.
My cheeks flamed.
Most of the volunteers looked busy, but my gaze connected with Adam’s across the gym and I froze. His eyes narrowed. He was too far away from where we stood to hear our conversation, and Gray’s back was to him, but I still didn’t like the look on his face. It wasn’t suspicious, but it was curious, and I couldn’t afford curious right now. I couldn’t afford much of anything where Gray was concerned.
“I should go change,” I murmured.
“I’m sorry . . .” His voice trailed off.
The problem with the familiarity between us was that it was tough to remember when to turn it on and off. Hard to pretend like we hadn’t already crossed the Rubicon.
“It’s okay.”
I turned to walk away, but his voice called me back.
“Blair?”
“Yeah?”
He cleared his throat, and the expression he gave me filled me with all kinds of warmth. “You did an amazing job today. You’re going to give these kids a memory they won’t ever forget.”
I nodded, unable to speak for fear that if I did, it would give everything away. I’d wanted him when he was an asshole, kissed him when he was kind, but the look in his eyes now, the softness there, made my insides melt and seized my heart.
I fled the gym before I gave him everything.
Gray
I felt sorry for the Phantom.
And when she’d said it, her words had been full of compassion. Just like that day in the car. I was choking on Blair Reynolds’s compassion and I couldn’t breathe.
She was like a dream I’d given up long ago. A different life, a better me. A chance to wash the filth away.
I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone. It was a gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach, the feeling that no matter how much I ate, I’d never be full.
The worst was her kindness, her generosity, her attempts to soothe. She was like a beacon of hope, and as fucking corny as that sounded, I couldn’t resist the urge to be around her. It wasn’t about sex; I didn’t even know what it was anymore—
It was nice not being alone.
Fuck.
I tried to focus on handing candy out to the kids, not allowing myself to search for Blair in the crowded gym. I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d dressed up as, if she’d gone for a sexy costume like a lot of the student volunteers, or if she’d chosen something cute.
“Can I have a piece of candy?”
A little kid stood in front of me dressed in a Captain America costume, his hand clutched in his older brother’s. The carnival was mainly for the middle school students, but some of them had brought younger siblings with them. Everyone seemed to be having a blast.
Blair had outdone herself. The event was way more impressive than your typical school carnival. The kids wandered around with dazed, overexcited looks on their faces, as though the combination of sugar, games, and pumpkins was better than a trip to Disney World.
I’d always been happy to donate money to various charities in Chicago. I’d grown up on the South Side streets; I knew how desperately the neighborhoods needed it. But I hadn’t done anything hands-on. Ever. It hadn’t been my wife’s style, and with me working eighty-plus hour weeks, there hadn’t been much left over for volunteering. But just the simple act of handing out candy to these kids, seeing their smiles . . .
It felt a lot better than just writing a check.
I’d been one of these kids, knew how life could drag you down and pile on until you didn’t believe you had a chance at anything better. I’d been lucky that school had come easily for me, that I’d always liked learning, and that alone had probably saved me from joining a gang or worse.
I’d planned on overseeing the pro bono program without getting involved, but maybe I could research places I could help out. The slower work pace helped and I definitely had the time now. I’d always been pretty balls-to-the-wall, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that I’d also burned out fast. It was nice to not work an eighteen-hour day. To sleep in a bed rather than the couch in my office. To eat normal meals rather than existing on caffeine, coke, and the occasional sandwich my secretary picked up for me. I went to the gym now, had even started boxing again—a habit I’d lost when I’d started law school.
Rehab had taught me to find balance in my life, to recognize my triggers. I had the kind of personality where shit snowballed real quickly if I didn’t get it under control.
“Can I have some candy?”
The sound of the small voice jerked me back as I stared down at the cutest little girl I’d ever seen. She’d lost her front teeth, gracing me with a winsome smile, her little body dressed in a purple costume that looked like a fairy or something. The words came out with a slight lisp.
I crouched down, dropping a few pieces in her outstretched jack-o’-lantern candy basket.
Jessica hadn’t been a big fan of children—too messy, too loud, too much trouble, even with the nanny my money would have provided. I’d never been a kid guy. I’d been so busy making money I hadn’t really cared. But staring at this adorable little girl, I wondered what it would have been like if we’d had a kid. Would I have fucked it up with all of my problems? Or would loving something more than myself have grounded me in a way nothing else seemed to?
The little girl flashed me another smile, sending a pang somewhere near the vicinity of my heart. And then her chubby little hand came up and she gave me a wave. A smile tugged at my lips as I returned the wave, my body crouched down, eye level with her. We studied each other, and then she turned her head, and I was forgotten.
“I want to go see the princess!” she cried.
I followed her gaze and froze.
Blair stood a few feet away, dressed like a ballerina. The top was pink and gold, held up by thin straps that showed a mouthwatering amount of skin. It fit snugly against her torso and then flared out in a lighter pink tutu. Her legs were covered in tights, ballerina slippers on her feet. Her hair was up in a tight bun, some sort of tiara on her head.
A group of girls surrounded her, their eyes wide, clearly dazzled by her. I didn’t blame them. She looked like something out of a fairy tale.
Blair beamed, bending down to speak to one of the little girls, her eyes glowing, and our gazes locked as if she knew I was standing there, as if she’d been looking for me all along.
Blair
I wasn’t sure my ovaries could handle the sight of Graydon Canter smiling at a little girl dressed like a fairy.
I was ridiculously attracted to him on a normal day, add in the way he beamed at the little girl, and I was done.
And then he looked at me, and everything else fell away as a flutter took root in my heart, spreading throughout my body.
It was as though he held a string that bound us together, and even if I’d wanted to sever the tie, I couldn’t.
“How are things going?” I asked, flashing the little fairy next to him a big smile, trying to get my racing heart under control. My entire body felt electrified, awareness humming through my veins.
His eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“Good.”
I took some candy from the bucket in front of him, my hand shaking slightly, and handed it out to the girls around me. Gray stood still beside me.
When I’d finished, I hovered there, not ready to leave.
I wracked my brain for topics to discuss.
“It’s a nice turnout, right? Everyone seems to be having a good time. Even the volunteers. Nothing like celebrating Halloween and seeing kids smile to take the stress of law school away.”
I took a deep breath, the pace of my rambling timed by the rapid beating of my heart.
“Speaking of, I’ve heard of other law schools bringing in pets to visit with students during finals. It helps relieve anxiety. I was thinking we should do something like that, but maybe use shelter dogs so they get some love. Wh
at do you think?”
He blinked. “Sure.”
I waited for the rest of it, but he just stood there, staring down at me with that same dazed expression on his face.
And then he spoke and shocked me.
“You dressed as a ballerina.” The words came out rough, their thrust softened by the light blazing from his eyes.
Contrasts.
The harsh white Phantom mask and the gravelly voice fit with the man who could be cold and intimidating, who ruled his classroom as though it was his fiefdom. But the softness in his gaze matched the man who’d knelt down to place candy in a child’s basket. Who’d offered his palm up in a wave that had my heart turning over in my chest, who’d taught me con law when I’d needed it.
Contrasts.
I looked down, unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze any longer. “I played one of the sugar plum fairies in The Nutcracker a couple years ago. Easy costume.”
I’d been so busy with school and the carnival that I hadn’t had time to come up with something better. My old dance costume had seemed like the perfect solution.
He took a deep breath, as if he was desperately sucking in air. And the energy around us changed.
His gaze no longer looked admiring or dazed. He looked hungry.
For me.
Gray
I didn’t take my eyes off of her the entire night.
Blair had left my side to run one of the games, and I stood there like an idiot, handing out candy, struggling to make small talk, all while staring at her like she was the sun and I’d been shrouded in darkness.
A small smile played at her lips every time our gazes met. I couldn’t touch her, couldn’t even risk talking to her, not when having her close was enough to make me lose control. So I looked. A lot.
Playing With Trouble Page 10