Unable to Resist

by Cassie Graham

  I nod and soak in the information. “Now what happens?”

  He flashes a smile, maybe to lighten the mood, maybe to make my insides feel like they’re melting.

  “Hopefully one of the bastards confesses. If not, they’ll dig deeper,” he says, his voice strong—very lawyer-esque, if that’s a thing.

  I begin to chew on my bottom lip when his phone rings.

  He picks it up. “Duane Rynard.”

  God I love his name.

  He listens and his eyebrows shoot up as he writes something down on a piece of paper. “Okay, well that’s quite interesting—holy shit.” He shoots a look in my direction. “Alright, I’ll let her know. Thanks. Yeah, I’ll let you know what she says. She’s sitting in front of me right now. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll call you back.”

  I listen to him say his goodbyes and anxiously wait for the new information.

  He rubs his temples and breathes out a huge breath of air. “One of the suspects claims to know you.”

  Oh, lord.

  “And he refuses to talk to anyone but you,” he finishes.

  The blood in my body gushes to my ears and all sounds from the lively city below us calms.

  “What—so, what does that mean? What do I need to do?”

  “How do you feel about making a trip to Arizona, darlin’?”

  All the color in Ann’s face drains when I air my question. Like a reflex, I stand and rush to her side, pulling up a chair so I can grab her hand, embracing it reassuringly.

  She immediately laces our fingers together and I silently thank whomever I need to for allowing her to not flinch at my touch.

  I’ve been trying my damndest not to touch her—minus the waist grabbing in the lobby earlier. Seeing her scared in front of me throws all hesitation out of the window. I fight it, I want to protect her. I want to make her feel safe.

  “It’ll be okay. You’ll go in, you’ll talk to him and it’ll be over.” I try to comfort, knowing in my mind it’s never that easy on anyone.

  She nods her head. “What’s—what’s the man’s name? The one I’m supposed to know.”

  Her nose lets out a sniffle.

  I look down at my notes. “Brenton Hall. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

  Her eyes move side to side, like she’s scanning her brain for answers. “I—,” she hesitates. “Duane, I don’t know who that is. I knew a Brent, but his last name wasn’t Hall.”

  I figured as much. Most of these guys just want a chance to scare the shit out of the relatives.

  Ann lets her tears escape, her tough demeanor cracking, and I react. Bringing her into my embrace, she tucks her head into the crook of my neck and softly cries.

  I soothingly rub her back, and murmur encouraging words. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m here.”

  Why am I saying stuff like that to her? I’m her lawyer. Nothing can happen. My hand stills at my realization.

  Fuck, nothing can happen.

  I want her, so fucking much. She puts on a good front, but I see she’s hiding so much. I want to dive into her life and be there for her.

  Yet—I can’t.

  She looks up at me through her tears and shakes her head. “It’s not like you can go with me,” she says, crushed.

  Tiny bits of hope sprout. Actually, since I’m her lawyer, I can.

  “If you want me to come, I can. I’m your lawyer. If you want me there, I’ll go with you. You don’t have to be alone.”

  She instantly relaxes in my arms, and takes a deep breath.

  “Okay. I definitely want you with me. When do we need to leave?”

  Fuck, it shouldn’t make me happy, but hearing her say she wants me there makes me fucking ecstatic.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  I look at my watch, I can probably get us a flight today.

  “Let me look up flights and we can leave as soon as possible. Would that be okay? Can you leave on such short notice?”

  She nods. “Yeah, my friends can run the shop while I’m gone. I can buy my own ticket Duane. You don’t have to do that.”

  I squeeze her one last time, resisting the urge to kiss her head and go to sit behind my desk.

  “It’s no problem. This way we sit together. If you feel the need, you can pay me back.”

  She wipes under her eyes and straightens up.

  “Alright. My best friend lives there. I can stay with him. He lives in a huge house, with plenty of room. I don’t know the correct protocol, but he has room for you as well.”

  It’s not a good idea for me to stay there—or anywhere with her. I shouldn’t cross any lines while I’m invested in her case. Plus, if I’m being honest with myself, knowing she is just a few feet away from me, it’ll be hard to keep myself in check.

  I smile at her gesture. “Thank you, but I’ll just stay at a hotel. That way you can visit with your friend, and I can stay out of the way.”

  I’m trying to sound like the responsible one, but I don’t really sound convincing in my own ears.

  Sadness flashes over her features, and she wiggles in her seat, seeming incredibly uncomfortable with the situation. Then, just as I see the sadness, it’s gone. Poof. Nothing. No emotion.

  I don’t know which one is worse.

  She picks at her sexy frayed shorts and the silence grows thick between us.

  God, I’m a prick.

  I redirect my attention to my computer, and pull up some travel options.

  As I scan the screen, my brain keeps trying to rationalize my feelings for her.

  She’s gorgeous, that’s obvious. I’m insanely attracted to her. I haven’t been into a woman in this way in ages. Pathetic, but it’s true. She also makes me laugh, she’s quick witted, making me think she’s probably a feisty one, which is something I’ve yet to find in a woman. She’s successful from what I gather, and makes her own way. Did she say she owns a shop?

  The biggest thing of all though? She has a big heart, a huge capacity to love. I can see it in her eyes; they speak volumes. Those crystal clear, blue eyes are a window to her gentle soul. I find myself wanting to peek into that damn window to watch her.

  Like a stalker. Duane? Really?

  I click on a flight and purchase our tickets. I don’t bother telling her the amount. I would never take her money, no matter how much she insisted.

  Confirming our flights, I turn to her. “Okay, our flight leaves at noon. Let’s go pack and I’ll pick you up at eleven. Sound okay?”

  She hides an eager expression, looking down at her lap.

  “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll see you soon.”

  With that, she gets up and practically runs out of my office.

  The moment Duane’s arms unexpectedly wrapped around my body outside his office, steadying me, my breath hitched. Moving the escaped hair from my face, I found his bright, playful eyes staring back at me.

  In that instant, my heart ached. It begged and pleaded to beat out of my chest and into his hands.

  It was already his, and he couldn’t even have it.

  This is not good.

  Moving to the back of the death box, aka the elevator, I rest my head on the wall. How did I get myself into this predicament?

  I just need to put my feelings aside. There’s no other option. I have to revert back to the time in my life before Duane.

  Was that really only a couple days ago? How is that possible?

  No, it doesn’t matter. He’s my lawyer. I need to keep my heart at a distance.

  Says the woman who just confessed that her heart was his.

  The elevator dings, releasing me, and I leave the building behind me.

  I take my time returning, giving myself some time to think—or not think. The radio plays, giving my brain a short respite. When I pull into the parking lot, I feel slightly more level.

  Stepping into the shop, Mia and Liv are tending to customers. Things seem so normal.

  It’s crazy to think my life seems to be spiraling while every
one else’s goes on without a hint of knowledge that things are crumbling around me.

  I guess that’s how life is. I’m probably just as oblivious. Living in my own little world while others go through hell and back. Humans are so damn selfish sometimes.

  Note to self: Try to be more aware of others. Everyone is suffering in some way or another.

  I’m greeted with smiles from Liv and Mia when they see me. Subtly, I gesture for them to follow me to the kitchen. Once we are out of earshot of the customers, I unload.

  “I have to go to Arizona,” I say, my eyes on my cell phone, “in three hours.”

  They look at each other and then back at me.

  “I guess they brought suspects in this morning, and one claims to know who I am. He refuses to talk to anyone but me.”

  Liv steps forward, placing her hand on my arm. “Holy shit, are you okay? You know you don’t have to worry about the shop. We’ll be fine.”

  I nod my head. “I know. I’m—I don’t know. Confused? I guess. But I have no other choice. I need to find some closure.”

  Mia comes on the other side of me and wraps her arm around Liv and I. “It’s going to be okay. Are you really going alone? You hate heights. Is it really a good idea? Maybe you can drive?”

  I snort. I didn’t even think about being miles above the ground. It’s a little too late now to back out, though. And I seriously don’t want to anticipate how long it’ll take me to get to Arizona from here by car.

  “I’ll be okay. Duane is actually going with me.”

  Both of their arms drop and they step away to look at me. They must think I’ve gone crazy. It’s actually not far from the truth.

  I shrug a shoulder. “He’s my lawyer. He needs to be there to represent me.”

  Liv scoffs. “You can’t fool us, Daniels. We know you have other motives.”

  If only.

  “No, really, it’s not like that,” I protest.

  “What do you mean?” Mia asks.

  “I can’t jeopardize his career just because I have feelings for him. It has to stay professional.” Maybe the more I say it out loud; I’ll begin to believe it.

  Liv doesn’t look impressed. “It doesn’t have to be serious. You clearly like him. He seems to like you, just have some sex.”

  “Profound.” I look at her and shake my head.

  She tries to look innocent. “What?”

  “It can’t just be casual sex with him, Liv. I really feel something for him. I can’t explain it. I don’t want him unless I can have all of him.”

  I can’t budge on my decision. If I’m going to do anything, I need all of him. More than that, I want him to be mine. I want to selfishly claim him.

  “Alright, alright, I get it.” She backs off with her arms up in surrender.

  “It’s fine. I just really don’t want to think about it. I need to go pack. He’s going to be here soon.”

  “It’s going to be alright, Ann. Have faith,” Mia encourages.

  I smile and bring both girls in for a hug.

  “I love you guys.”

  They both kiss me on the cheek, and I head to the loft.

  Packing my suitcase with random pieces of clothing, I take a deep soothing breath. I have no idea how long our trip will be, so I pack enough to last me a few days, figuring it’s good enough. I grab my toiletries, phone charger and I’m done. I’m not a fussy packer, as you can see.

  I have about twenty minutes before Duane is supposed to show up, so I head to the living room and sit on the couch.

  Rubbing my forehead, I make a conscious decision to not think about Brenton Hall until I get to Arizona. I have the weight of Dad’s case on my mind, and Mia reminded me that I have to ride in an airplane, so I think it’s best to push him to the back of my mind until I’m safely on the ground.

  Next thing I know someone is shaking my shoulder and silently chuckling.

  Who the hell?!

  My eyes snap open and I see Duane smiling down at me. He’s sitting on my coffee table, in blue jeans and a Boston Red Sox shirt, being impossibly handsome. No one should look that good. Ever. Wearing clothes just isn’t fair to the female race. Clothes enhance his already stunning body. I mean—we can only take so much sexiness before we explode from the overabundance of deliciousness. And this man radiates it. I feel like I need to shield my eyes.

  “Hey sleepy, we need to get going,” he calmly says to me while tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

  It feels amazing.

  Look at me, the simplest touch from him and I’m falling apart. I don’t know if it’s the tired haze I’m still in, but I lean into his hand and breathe in his clean scent. He smells like soap and hay. I know that sounds crazy, but in Arizona, we lived across from a hay field and it always smelled so sweet. It might be my favorite scent. He smells like home.

  “Mmmm, okay,” I mumble. I can’t seem to form any real sentences in my sleepy brain.

  He laughs again, and stands. My eyes follow him the entire way up, and he sticks out his hand for me to take. Like an idiot, I don’t hesitate, and accept it. As soon as I make contact, a jolt of electricity shoots to all of my parts, and my eyes instantly look at our joined hands.

  I can’t believe I’m thinking like those saps in my books. Maybe I need to lay off the romance for a bit.

  Doubtful. You love that shit.

  Duane’s breathing picks up, and I look into his eyes. He’s looking at our hands as well with a quizzical look on his face.

  Does he feel it, too?

  He pulls out of the fog first. Dropping my hand, he walks to my suitcase at the door. “Let’s get going, yeah?”

  I try to brush the disappointment off of my face and give him a smile. “Yeah,” I pause, thinking, “How did you get in here, anyway?”

  He grins and looks down at his feet.

  “Well, I knocked for a couple minutes and you didn’t answer, so I went downstairs.” He laughs. “Someone named Liv let me in once she saw me.” He gives me a knowing smile. “She seemed to know me.”

  Freaking traitor! I’m going to kill her. What the hell did my she-bitch of a best friend say to him?

  Think fast on your feet, woman!

  “Uhhh, yeah, she saw you at the bar the other night.”

  Sure that works.

  His mouth bunches on the side of his face, like he’s trying to hide his smile. He doesn’t seem to buy it, but he’s gentleman enough to let it slide. He straightens his mouth and nods his head, motioning for the door.

  I reach for my suitcase, but Duane brushes my hand away and picks it up.

  A true gentleman to the end. The feminist in me is stomping her foot in annoyance, but I’m kind of swooning.

  We go through the shop to leave. Why? I have no idea. There’s a perfectly good exit in the back.

  I must be some sort of masochist.

  Sitting behind the counter, Liv and Mia laugh out loud like teenagers. I’m sure they are talking about me. About us. Looking over my shoulder, I shoot them a death glare, and mouth, ‘shut up.’

  Liv sputters and Mia barks laughter. My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Oh yeah, both of them are kaput when I get home.

  Duane turns around just in time to see Mia slap her hand over her mouth and at least have the decency to blush.

  Serves her right.

  But Liv, in typical Liv fashion, blows a kiss, and I guarantee it wasn’t to me. Bitch.

  I huff and follow Duane out, stomping rather loudly. “Love you! Try not to burn the place down,” I call out, sarcasm lacing my every word.

  Something hits the back of my head and I turn to scowl at Mia without hesitation. I know for a fact Liv couldn’t have hit me from that distance, or at all, actually. I bend to pick up the un-used cupcake wrapper and throw it at Mia’s face.

  And, whoop! Square in the forehead.

  Seriously, how old are we?

  I mentally applaud myself while blowing a kiss and waving to my best friends. At the front door,
Duane is grinning a magnificent smile my way.

  I roll my eyes at our antics, mildly embarrassed.

  He looks back at me. “What? That was cute, and you have good aim.”

  A smile creeps onto my face. I can’t help it when he’s around. “Thank you, but to be fair she has a big head.”

  Duane pffts, and shakes his head. “You are a fiery one,” he decides out loud.

  “That’s an understatement.” I laugh. “I’ve always been told I can be kind of a fireball, but I think it adds to my charm. I blame the red hair.”

  My dad always called me a spitfire. Said that I had the attitude to match my hair color. Lively and spirited. Feisty. It always made me laugh.

  Duane’s old Ford sits in the parking lot next to my new, shiny one. Old and new. His truck is beat up. I’m sure it’s seen better days and the white color is faded, yet it’s still sexy as hell. Rugged and handsome, like its owner. My hand itches to drive it.

  The truck. It itches to drive the truck. Not Duane.

  Okay—maybe Duane, too.

  I run my hand along the bed of the truck, and revel in the silkiness of the old machine. It doesn’t have a speck of rust. By the looks of it, Duane has taken great care of it. “This is a beautiful truck, Duane.”

  “I think so too.” He beams. “I don’t have the heart to give her up. I’ll have this truck till she dies and I have to push her off a cliff.”

  I laugh. “She, huh?”

  “What?” He looks at me curiously as if he didn’t realize he called his truck a woman.

  Then it clicks.

  “Oh, yeah, she.” He grins, playing it off as if referring to a truck as a person is normal. “She’s beautiful, strong and trustworthy.”

  I’m not going to lie, hearing him love this truck so thoroughly makes me kind of fall in love with her, too.

  “Alright, alright, you’re right, she,” I emphasize the word, “Is divine, Duane. Truly, a beautiful truck.”

  He scratches the back of his head and grins. “Thanks, Darlin.”

  He puts my bag in the bed of the truck and opens my door. As soon as I step inside the truck, the smell of gasoline assaults my senses, probably because the tank is behind the cab. There’s also a strong smell of hay, and just a bit of the smell that only Duane has. It reminds me of working on the ranch as a kid.