Dating a Lawyer (The Dating Series Book 3)

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Dating a Lawyer (The Dating Series Book 3) Page 14

by B. T. Love


  The sight brought a smile to my face and a sense of relief to my soul. “Would you like me to continue?” I asked.

  She sat her glass back down. “You mean there’s more?”

  “There’s plenty more.”

  “Well, I guess I will grant you the request of elaborating on your statement.”

  “Spoken like a true lawyer.” I looked back down at my glass. “I’ve heard about you around town.”

  “I’m sure you have.”

  “You’re fantastic at what you do.”

  “I know.”

  I laughed under my breath and cut my eyes back up to hers; she was so much like me. “Yeah, I know you know. Anyway, I was actually nervous to meet with you for the first time on Friday.”

  Her head pulled back with surprise. “You? Nervous?”

  “Yeah, it threw me off too. And then when you came into the conference room and introduced yourself I nearly fell off my seat.”

  “Bull.”

  “I wish it were. Then to top it off you opened your mouth and the most sarcastic words came out, and . . .”

  “And what?” she asked impatiently.

  “And, well, that was it.”

  Her eyebrows knitted together. “What was it?”

  I took another drink. “I had to have you.”

  I didn’t know why I said that. I mean, it was true, but what on earth made me spill my emotional guts to this woman? That wasn’t like me. I always played hard to get in relationships. I never came clean with my feelings so quickly like I did with her. But the reality was that I wanted her, and I needed her to know that. I had the tendency to come off as a huge dick, and she needed to realize that that wasn’t the real me; I needed her to know that I actually liked the woman I was constantly arguing with.

  “What . . . really?” she said anxiously as she reached for her glass of wine. But instead of grabbing a hold of it she knocked it over, sending the red liquid splattering across the table and onto one of my most expensive dress shirts. “Oh my gosh, Brad, I’m so sorry!” she said as she pulled an excessive amount of napkins out of the dispenser that was on our table.

  I casually laughed it off. I could easily afford another one, and even if I couldn’t, it was the woman I desired that did it so it didn’t really matter. She could throw wine on me every day if that was her wish. “Don’t worry about it,” I told her happily. “I have plenty more of these shirts at home.”

  “Ugh, I feel like such an idiot.”

  I wiped the napkins over the cold stain that was making the shirt suck against my skin. “Don’t say that. You are very far from being an idiot.”

  She picked up her glass and pushed it off to the side. “Well, no more wine for me tonight.”

  “Or maybe you need a little more.”

  “Yeah,” she laughed. “After a confession like yours I might need a little more to settle my nerves.”

  I nodded, completely agreeing with her. “Why do you think I ordered a beer?” I said with a warm smile.

  She sat back in her seat and folded her arms over her chest. “So, let me get this straight: You say mean things to me because you like me? That sounds a tad bit like grade school, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, it does. That’s why I wanted you to get to know me outside of work. The role I play at my job . . . it’s different than the one I play in my personal life. I mean, I’m very successful at what I do, and a part of that is because of how I come across in the courtroom. Sometimes it’s hard to get out of that frame of mind, but, it’s important that you see me as the person I really am.”

  “And why is that so important to you?”

  “Because,” I shrugged, “you’re an intelligent woman who just happens to be fascinatingly beautiful. Why on earth would I pass up the opportunity to get to know you on a personal level?”

  Her eyes scrutinized me for a moment before softening into a relaxed state. “Brad, I, I don’t really know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll go out with me again.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  Well that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Why not? I didn’t mean to come on too strong.”

  She shook her head. “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just . . . you’re my competition. I mean, I think it would be odd to date someone who I was battling against in court. I’m sure we’ll continue to get cases where we’re against each other, and I could see it causing problems for us. Maybe if you were in a different field, like, maybe mobile home law, or—”

  “Mobile home law?” I laughed, cutting her off. “What am I, an eighty-year-old man?”

  “Well you know what I mean. We’re rivals. How would that be healthy?”

  Just then, Cindy brought us our food, setting both plates down in front of me. “Wow, these look fantastic,” I said as my eyes darted between the two burgers. I knew right away which one was mine.

  “Will you be needing anything else?” she asked.

  Roxanne took a loose wine-splattered napkin from the table. “Yes, can you write down on this napkin which burger has the bison meat?” she asked as she handed it to her. “I uh, I spilled my wine . . .” she admitted with embarrassment once the waitress eyed the crimson spot.

  “Don’t worry Roxy, it happens all the time. So, how do you want me to do this?”

  She pointed to the plate that I knew was hamburger meat. “Well, let’s say that this plate is number one and this one is number two,” she said as she pointed to the second one. “Just write the number on the napkin that the bison burger is on.”

  “Okay,” she nodded. She wrote a number on the napkin and then folded it up, handing it back to Roxanne. “There you go.”

  “Thanks,” she smiled.

  “Do you need more wine?” Cindy asked her.

  “No thanks, I don’t trust myself.”

  “Well you two enjoy your meal then.”

  Roxanne looked back over at me. “You ready?”

  “Yep. But first we have to decide what I get if I’m right about being able to taste the difference.”

  “Well, what do you have in mind?”

  I moved my head from side to side as a thought jumped around. “I’ve got it. If I win, then you’ll start talking to me on a personal level.”

  She seemed okay with that. “And if you lose?” she asked.

  “Then I’ll be destined to spend the rest of my life pining after you.”

  “Fine,” she laughed. “Get ready to start your eternity of pining.”

  I smiled and picked up the burger on plate number one. “This isn’t bison,” I said with sureness.

  “But you haven’t even tasted it yet.”

  “I don’t have to; I can smell it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Roxanne, come on. I’m a man; I know my bison.”

  “Okay,” she gave in. “Is that your final answer or are you going to take a bite?”

  “You know what?” I said as I sat it back on the plate and slid it over to her. “I am so confident in my answer that I’m not even going to try it. Go ahead and open the napkin.”

  She unfolded the red-splattered paper and her eyes widened as she looked down at the answer. “You have got to be kidding me!” she said as she flipped it around for me to see the number two written on it.

  “Yes!” I said, throwing my hands in the air with my victory. “See? I know what I’m talking about.”

  “That you do,” she smiled.

  “So that means I can take you out again,” I stated confidently.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Good.” I crossed my arms and leaned back into my seat. Man, she looked so beautiful, like a glowing angel that was sent down from heaven. “Your hair looks pretty when you wear it down like that, Roxanne,” I told her, unable to keep my fascination with her to myself.

  Her face glowed with a smile. “Thank you, Brad. And please, call me Roxy.”

  * * *

  After spending much more time with Roxy both on da
tes and over the phone, I decided to invite her over to meet my dad. As I listened to her talk to him in the other room I imagined showing her my master bedroom and my king-sized bed, the perfect place for me to make love to her. Actually, it wasn’t quite the perfect place since my dad was constantly home, but still, my mind wandered as I imagined what I would do to her naked body between those Egyptian cotton sheets.

  I heard my dad bragging about me, talking about when I was elected class president during my senior year of high school. He always told that story, and he always ended it by saying something about me never giving up on something I wanted. The man was right; I never gave up on what I wanted. And I wanted Roxy. I wanted her so bad it hurt; I wanted her so bad that my body ached in more ways than one.

  I brought her her tea and we went outside and walked around the side of the house in the direction of the barn; I wanted to show her the pond since it was my favorite place on my property. It was also the place I wanted to kiss her for the first time. That would only make that spot even better than it already was.

  After introducing her to Kitty we continued our way over to the small body of water. “Here it is,” I said with pride. “I love this pond.”

  “It’s beautiful. Are there fish in it?”

  “Yeah, some Coy. They’re a little hard to see though because the lily pads are kind of getting overgrown.”

  She pointed to the large rock that I often sat on to think. “That’s the perfect place to sit,” she said, nodding at it.

  “It just happens to be my favorite spot. You wanna have a seat?”

  “Sure,” she smiled. As we went over to the rock and sat down our shoulders grazed and we laughed quietly. God, just touching her shoulder excited me. “Well Brad,” she sighed pleasantly, “your house is beautiful. Thanks for inviting me out to see it.”

  “Thank you. I wanted you to see what my home life was like.”

  We spent the next few minutes talking about my dad’s illness and the passing of my mom. It was nice to have someone to discuss it with. I wanted to talk to my dad more about how I missed my mom but it was too hard on him, so I just left it alone. And every time I tried to talk to my dad about his situation he just tried to shrug it off and act happy. I think he was afraid to let any sadness enter his mind out of fear that it would consume him and he wouldn’t be able to climb back out. But all I really wanted to tell him was that I was going to miss him when he was gone, that I was going to miss our man to man talks, and that I would feel the loss of not being able to throw around the football with him anymore.

  Roxy smiled as she asked me if I ever wanted to be a parent.

  “Sure,” I shrugged. “Honestly I would be fine either way. I love kids; I love my niece. Being a dad would be an honor. But at the same time if it never happened I would still be fine. I’ve got my Kitty over there to fill that void.” I nodded over at my dog who was laying by the other side of the pond, chewing on a stick. We both laughed.

  “Well he’s certainly the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen.”

  “And just like a baby he’s good at helping me pick up chicks.”

  “Oh lord,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you use poor Kitty as bait.”

  I crossed my arms and looked down with a chuckle. “Nah. I don’t need help picking up chicks; they flock to me.”

  “There’s the Bradley Hunter I’m so fond of.”

  I nudged her shoulder, feeling that familiar spark once again. “So you’re fond of me, huh?”

  “Unfortunately,” she smiled.

  “So does that mean you’ll let me kiss you now?”

  Her head pulled back with surprise. “Kiss me? Now?”

  “I mean, if there’s a time that works better for you I can call Nancy and reschedule it,” I joked.

  Her eyes narrowed into a friendly glare as she smiled. “I’ll let you kiss me after you answer one question.”

  “Ooh, now I’m on the witness stand, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well now I’m intrigued. Go ahead.”

  She leaned down and sat her glass on the ground. “I love your cologne.”

  “I know.”

  She straightened back up with a quizzical look. “How?”

  “Because I’m good at reading people.”

  “That’s what you think . . .”

  “You still don’t realize how good I am, huh?”

  She paused and then cleared her throat. “Then prove it if you’re so good.”

  I welcomed the challenge. “I can give you one right away. Your pen tapping habit.”

  “Yeah? So? What about it?”

  “You’re anxious.”

  I could tell my honesty irritated her, probably because I was exactly right. “You’re wrong,” she lied.

  “Liar.”

  After a few seconds passed she finally smiled. “Fine. Yes, it’s an annoying habit I’ve dealt with all of my life. I can’t help it.”

  “I know you can’t. But, why were you anxious when we were in your conference room that first day?”

  She thought about it before answering, “I was anxious that day because you were a big shot from the city.”

  “And what about now? Do you still see me that way?”

  “Sometimes,” she said honestly. “But that image is slowly fading away.”

  I was relieved to hear her say that. “Good.”

  “Now, back to my question. I noticed that you don’t wear cologne when you’re working. Is there a reason for that?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you gonna tell me?” she laughed.

  “You’ll just poke fun at me.”

  “Most likely.”

  “Fine,” I smiled. I spent the next few minutes explaining my theory on my decision to refrain from wearing cologne while I was working, which I soon realized sounded really dumb when I explained it out loud. And she wasn’t afraid to let me know, either.

  “That has got to be the dumbest thing I have ever heard in my life,” she said.

  The corner of my mouth pulled back with a smile; I loved the fact that she wasn’t afraid to tell me that something I believed in was stupid. “I’m telling you, I’m right.”

  “So what you’re trying to tell me is that we women are so driven by our sense of smell that we actually lose focus during important matters?”

  “Yep.”

  “And this is just based on one instance?”

  “No I tried it again with another woman client with the same outcome.”

  She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No it’s not,” I laughed happily. “I guarantee if you take some unattractive guy and spray some cologne on him that a woman would find him much more attractive, just by adding that one element to him. The human sense of smell is a very powerful thing.”

  “So why wear any at all? You’re wearing some right now, wouldn’t you rather have my complete attention?” She was so damn sarcastic.

  “I want your complete attention, yes. But I want you to be more, how should I say this, persuaded.”

  “Persuaded, huh?”

  “Yeah, persuaded.” I lifted my hand and carefully pulled her soft hair off from her shoulder with my finger, letting it fall behind her back. I could read her well; she enjoyed my close touch.

  “Persuaded by my senses?” she asked.

  “You have many senses, Roxy,” I said, my voice growing serious. “I can persuade all of them.”

  My words made her breaths quicken. “Only if I let you . . .”

  I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You will.”

  “There’s that over-confident man I know so well.”

  “Like I said, I’m just good at reading people,” I told her with a smile. “I know what you’re feeling right at this very moment.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that so? Then go ahead; tell me.”

  “Gladly.” I took my hand away and shifted to face her, looking her square in t
he eyes. “You found me attractive as soon as I walked into your office. I made you nervous. It bothered you that I argued so openly with you in front of your client. It bothered you that Claire smiled at me the way that she did.”

  “Go on,” she smiled.

  “When we were in the store you picked up on the scent of my cologne first, thus proving my point that it drew your interest to me, without even knowing it was me or what I looked like. I just thought I’d throw that one in there . . .”

  “Your reasoning is still ridiculous but continue.”

  “You hated me at first but as you got to know me better that changed. You wore your hair down at the restaurant to impress me; it worked. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

  Her eyes dropped as a shy smile warmed her face. “Thank you.”

  “And,” I continued, “as we’ve talked on the phone you’ve let down your wall, allowing yourself to see me as the man I really am. And now you’re here, and my cologne is sparking your senses, clouding your judgement. Because you already think I’m the sexiest man in town, and the fact that I smell good only drives your senses more wild with each second that passes. When I touched your hair you didn’t want me to stop. You’re about to let me kiss you, and you’ll thoroughly enjoy it.”

  I left her speechless. “Wow. Now I guess I see why you’ve never lost a case . . .”

  “I tried to tell you.” I smiled, my eyes softening as I studied her beautiful face. I couldn’t wait any longer. My hand found her cheek and my thumb smoothed along her skin. “Is this a good time?” I asked, half teasingly, half serious.

  “It’s the perfect time.”

  This was the moment I had waited for. I leaned in and placed my lips to hers with a gentle kiss. I kept it simple; I didn’t want to overwhelm her or come off as trying to have my way with her. Because in reality, I wasn’t trying to have my way with her. I just wanted the honor of tasting her mouth and feeling the softness of her lips, the lips that so easily put me in my place and yet so easily calmed me when they turned up with a smile.

 

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