by Monroe, Max
“Well…not going to lie, it’s the absolute last place I’d expect to do business,” I respond, and a soft, amused chuckle turns my voice husky. “And I’ve done business in a lot of places.”
Stubborn as always, she quirks a challenging brow. “By do business do you mean business? Or do you mean sex?”
“Sex?” I smirk innocently. “Oh my goodness, Ruby. I’m positively scandalized. What a dirty mind you have.”
She rolls her eyes, and I rest one arm on the back of the bench.
“For the record, I’m open to either option.”
“I didn’t say there was an option.”
“Oh. In that case, I guess I mean business. Regular, boring, plain old lawyering…in a dog park, of all places.”
She sighs and shrugs. “I come here whenever I have free time. I like to visit the dogs.”
“Visit the dogs?” I ask. She nods. “You mean you don’t have one?”
“No.”
“So, you just come here to the dog park without a dog?”
“Yep.”
“You just stop in all the time…here at the dog park…sans dog?”
“Stop saying it like that!” She slaps a hand against my chest. “It’s not that weird.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, doll, it is. It’s fucking adorable, but it is strange, strange, strange.”
She huffs, annoyed now, and I focus in on the little hard line between her eyebrows. It’s an imperfection—a crack in her otherwise smooth skin—but I think it might just be one of the most endearing things I’ve ever seen.
“Here are your dumb contracts,” she pouts, and I laugh as she hands them to me. “And I didn’t even have to get Mr. Porvost loaded up on tequila and cherries or hire a redheaded hooker to get them. Go figure.”
“Very impressive, thanks.” I lift the contracts to my nose and wince. “Though, I’m not sure he wanted them to smell like dog…”
My shoulder rocks back as she shoves it.
“Don’t be a jerk!”
“A jerk? Moi?” I shake my head. “Never.”
She snorts.
“Women love me,” I add.
“Oh, I know,” she grumbles. “I know wayyyy too intimately about the way women love you.”
“But not you?” I ask with a smirk. “You’re completely unfazed by my charm?”
“I wouldn’t say unfazed,” she muses. I perk up and waggle my eyebrows. A secret little grin settles into the pointed corner of her mouth. “I feel nauseated by it at least three times a day.”
My smile grows as hers does. She’s amused herself greatly, and I have to admit, I’m enjoying watching her bask in the glory—even if I am the butt of the joke.
“Proud of that one, huh?”
“You bet,” she says, waggling her eyebrows up and down. “I might even take this show on the road. Forget the books. Forget law school. I’m going to be the next Netflix comedy special.”
A wistful sigh leaves my lungs. “I hear life on the road can be hard…”
“I’ll adapt,” she says easily, looking around the park and smiling every time she sees a new dog. “I’ve done it before.” She snorts. “Well, not the stand-up comedy, but life on the road.”
“You have?”
She nods without looking over at me, watching as a poodle prances along the path, its owner walking in much the same way behind it. “Between college and law school. I spent a year traveling all over the US.”
“Doing what?”
She shrugs. Laughs. “Seeing. Doing. Experiencing. Life is so different from one place to the next. We all live in these tiny little bubbles, with our tiny view on ideals. Even those of us who think we’re enlightened. Seriously. There are parts of this country so few people know about.”
Her eyes are bright and expressive, her heart quite obviously fully engaged. And I can’t stop looking at the way her mouth curves up and into her face, all the way into the corners of her eyes.
She tilts her head. “What?”
I try like hell to pry my gaze away from her, but I can’t.
It’s stuck.
“Hey, Ruby!” a woman calls, just as a Pomeranian jumps up into the spot between us on the bench and yelps for Ruby’s attention.
“Oh my God! Julie! Hi!” Ruby nearly shouts, jumping up from her spot, scooping up the pup to give it cuddles, and wrapping her free arm around the woman affectionately.
“I didn’t know you guys came here! Oh my goodness. Hi, Rosie, you little sweetie!”
“Oh,” I marvel quietly. “So, this is how she greets someone she likes.”
Ruby doesn’t hear me; she’s too busy snuggling the hell out of the little fluffy dog, but her friend does and smirks.
“Who’s this, Ruby?” she asks suggestively. Ruby draws her eyebrows together at her friend’s tone, and then she rolls her eyes.
“Oh. That’s just my boss.”
I shake my head at her less than impressive greeting and stand to take the woman’s hand in mine. “Caplin Hawkins. Nice to meet you.” I put my lips to her knuckles.
She blushes, putting a hand to her chest. “Julie Lahitch. It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Julie is engaged to my friend Kevin,” Ruby says pointedly, a scowl in place on her face.
“That’s great,” I say, biting my lip to keep from laughing at her worry. I have no attraction to her friend, but even if I did, there’s zero chance I would mount her out here in the open like one of the dogs in the park. I turn to Julie with a smile. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Julie replies, clearly more smitten with me than her friend. “Are you married?”
Ruby scoffs audibly.
“No,” I say, ignoring the little minx. “I’m not.”
“Engaged?” Julie asks, a sly smile edging its way onto her face as she glances at Ruby out of the corner of her eye.
“Nope.” My smile deepens. “Single.”
“Single but very much manwhoring…wait, I mean mingling,” Ruby says derisively, and I tilt my head in teasing offense.
“I’ll have you know I haven’t mingled in a while.” I try to calculate how many days it’s been and lose track when I get over three weeks. God. This might just be the longest I’ve ever gone, and I can’t even mentally pinpoint a reason.
Has it really been that long?
Like, over a month since I did anything besides flirt with a woman?
Jesus Christ. The almost-kiss with Ruby is the most action I’ve had in…a long fucking time.
What is happening to me?
“Feeling self-conscious about your winter body?” Ruby teases and pulls me from my mental calculations and overall confusion over the long sexual drought.
Her little, confident grin has me shaking my head and chuckling at the same time. “There’s only one body when it comes to Caplin Hawkins, doll. And it’s always a good one.”
“I bet,” Julie says with a nod, fanning herself.
Ruby hits her with an elbow.
“Ow,” Julie murmurs through a giggle while she rubs at her ribs.
Ruby gives me a hard glare that suggests I move on with my life, and the contracts in my hand reinforce it. I’ve got a whole lot of shit to get done, especially with Ruby having the day off, and the longer I stand here, the later my night is going to be.
I shake the contracts in front of me meaningfully and give both of them a smile. “Well, I guess I should be on my way. Gotta get these back to the office and make a few calls.”
Ruby’s smile is so painfully based in fake happiness, I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“So great to see you,” she says bitingly, and this time, Julie elbows her in the ribs.
“It was nice to meet you, Julie. I hope to see you again.”
“Of course. You should come out for drinks with us one night,” she offers with a smirk, and Ruby’s face turns white with panic.
I nearly laugh. “I appreciate the offer, but I keep a pretty busy schedule
. Unless you guys go out for drinks at three a.m.?”
She shakes her head and pouts a lip.
I laugh. “That’s what I thought.”
“Bye, Cap,” Ruby interjects, ready to get rid of me.
I don’t let her attitude deter me, though. It’s so overpronounced, so obviously a venture in trying to prove to herself just how much she doesn’t like me.
Instead, I meet her eyes and hold them until all pretense falls off her face, and she’s just there. The Ruby I know is really inside.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, doll.”
She nods, and the hint of a smile is a shadow on her lips. “See you tomorrow.”
With a nod and wink at Julie and one last grin at Ruby, I step away from the two of them and head for the entrance of the park.
Unexpected disappointment fills my chest, and I find myself wishing I could’ve stayed longer. For what, I’m not quite sure. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of man’s furry best friend, but I don’t necessarily have the urge to hang around a dog park all day just to see them wag their tails and mindlessly lick their balls.
But…Ruby. You certainly like spending time with her, my brain taunts.
I shrug off the thought quickly and avert my focus to the current task at hand.
There’s work to be done, and word on the street is that, at Caplin Hawkins Law, I’m the only man for the job.
Ruby
“Oh my God, Ruby,” Julie moans dramatically, as soon as Cap is safely outside of earshot. “That’s your boss?”
I roll my eyes and nod at the same time.
Julie takes my hand and pulls me down to sit on the bench. “How in the hell do you get anything done? I mean, don’t you just want to stare at his ass all day?”
“What?” I snap, my impression of being scandalized pretty good, if I say so myself. It’s easiest to lie to her since I’m already lying to myself. In reality, just five seconds ago, I was watching—more like gawking—as the ass in question walked away.
“And his eyes. They’re like fine, Swedish caramels,” she moons, and I squint.
“I don’t think caramels are a Swedish thing.”
“Whatever, Ruby. Stay focused here. Is he not the most perfect human specimen you’ve ever laid eyes on?”
“He’s good-looking,” I admit, and she snorts.
“Yeah, he’s just good-looking. And the sun is just a star.”
“Oh God, Julie, come on. You’re engaged!”
“Yes, I am. But I’m not blind, Ruby!”
“All right. Caplin Hawkins is hands down the best-looking man I have ever encountered in all twenty-eight years of my life.”
She nods enthusiastically, and I hold up a finger.
“But he is also the most egotistical, inappropriate, woman-using narcissist in the free world.”
“That seems like an exaggeration. He was perfectly lovely.”
“Just trust me on this, okay?” I sigh. “Cap is not the kind of man you or I or any self-respecting woman should spend any time seriously thinking about.”
She frowns. “But what about the spank bank, Ruby? What about the spank bank? Would you deny me this?”
“What about Kevin!”
She rolls her eyes. “I love Kev, you know that. But fantasy is healthy. I’m not gonna go picturing your hunky dreamboat boss while I’m sleeping with my man, but I’m allowed to theorize.”
I shake my head.
“And you’re single! You can do more than that, and you should! Live a little, for God’s sake.”
“Why does everyone keep implying that I don’t enjoy myself?”
She laughs. “Maybe because you don’t?”
“I’m about to enjoy myself, I’ll have you know,” I refute and stand up from the bench, swinging my bag over my shoulder with purpose. “Right now, I’m going across the street to the bookstore.”
She stares at me pointedly. “To get the book you need to study for recording?”
“No,” I deny, my face a mixture of glee and nana-nana-boo-boo.
“Research on your craft, then.”
I scowl. “There’s nothing wrong with research!”
“No, you’re right. But even reading has become something you don’t do for pleasure.”
“Hey! I enjoy—”
“I know you enjoy reading.” She cuts me off with a hand toward my face. “But you’re still doing it with a purpose. What do you do, just for the hell of it, with no other benefits at all?”
I give her the stink eye as I pet little Rosie goodbye. “I come to the dog park.”
“Exactly my point.” She smirks. “Just think about what I’m saying, Ruby. It might do you some good to let go a little bit. Have some fun.”
“I had a whole spa day just this morning.”
She eyes me skeptically and then surveys my obviously groomed features for evidence. And I know it’s there.
“Wow. Okay. That’s a good start. I’m glad you actually did something for yourself today.”
I prance a little on my feet.
You only did it because Cap made you. Really, the credit should go to him.
Annoyed at my thoughts, I decide it’s time to head to the bookstore. I lean in to give Julie a kiss goodbye on the cheek, pet Rosie one final time, and then head across the street to Hilda’s Books.
It’s a quaint little shop with a limited selection, but I’ve found some real treasures over the last three years of shopping here.
The books are usually well-loved and overread, and you can practically feel the lives they’ve touched all over the pages.
I drag my fingers along the shelves, feeling the spines as though they can reach out and grab me back. And I climb through crowded stacks and around and into the back where Hilda keeps the historical romances.
A knight or a duke or a highlander is just what the literary doctor orders every once in a while.
I grab a particularly thick Regency romance off the shelf and start scanning the pages.
I smile to myself as I catch a couple sassy lines from the heroine, but suddenly, the hair stands up on the back of my neck.
I turn around quickly, expecting to find someone behind me, but the aisle is completely empty.
That’s weird.
I draw in my eyebrows, and I spend almost a full minute glancing at the shelves around me, waiting for someone to pop up.
If my mom knew about this, she’d be talking the metro PD into launching a full-fledged investigation.
I make a pact with myself to make sure I never mention it. Lord knows, Connie already has enough paranoia on her plate to last a freaking lifetime.
Finally, I look back down to my book, but before I can fall too deeply into it again, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
My stomach flips, and then I grimace.
Oh God. Did I really just get excited at the prospect of Cap bothering me again?
I obviously let Julie get too far inside my head.
In an effort to minimize how disgusted I can get with myself in one sitting, I leave the phone in my pocket. If they really need me, they’ll message again.
I’m only two pages farther when it buzzes again.
With a heavy sigh and a quick mental pep talk, I take the phone out of my pocket, close my eyes, and then peek one just barely open to see the name on the screen.
I’m surprised to find it say Kevin, so I click open the messages to see what he has to say.
Kevin: Julie says she saw you at the park.
I smile a little at the simplicity of his message. And here I was worried about what it might say—
Kevin: She says you’re boning your boss. So, I guess you figured out the dynamics.
WHAT THE HELL?
Me: What?! I’m not boning him! He’s not boning me! No one is boning.
Kevin: Oh, come on, someone is boning. Even if it’s not you. And, hey, maybe she just said you should bone. I’m not sure.
For some reason, I’m so flustered, I speak out loud a
s I type. “Just because I would enjoy boning Caplin Hawkins doesn’t mean I should. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the last thing I should do in my life.”
I nod just once, a punctuation mark at the end of my statement, and hit send on my lengthy text.
Cap and I are not sleeping together. Not now, not ever.
Not now, not ever.
I quietly repeat that mantra to myself two more times, and by the time I’m done, I almost believe it.
Cap
“I’ve never been turned on by old English before. It feels tingly,” Thatch says, and the rest of us groan. It’s the Monday after I followed Ruby into a bookstore like a glorified stalker, and book club is officially in session.
I’m not necessarily proud of my actions, but if I’m honest, I’m not disgusted by them either.
For the first time in the history of the world, my vampire slash driver Vin was running late to pick me up from the park where I met Ruby for the contracts. Intent on getting back to work, I headed for the subway, but before I went underground, I saw Ruby cross the street and head into Hilda’s. My subconscious made all the decisions thereafter.
“Good God,” Wes grumbles. “I don’t think I want to come to poker night anymore.”
“It’s book club,” I correct, and he gives me a smarmy grin.
“Exactly.”
I watched as Ruby picked up book after book and scrolled through the pages before finally landing on this one, and then I waited for her to leave to ask the clerk about the title so I could buy the same one. Now that I’m here, though, and I’ve had time to consider what I heard her say in the store that day, I’m not sure all this effort is actually going to get me anywhere.
Not now, not ever, she said.
Chaos ensues around me as my heart sinks a little bit.
“Come on, Whitney!” Thatch yells. “You cannot tell me you didn’t enjoy listening to a proper Englishwoman tell her gentleman that she’s going to give him a good old-fashioned blowy!”
“I’m officially disturbed by you saying blowy,” Theo says, and the rest of us laugh. Mine is just barely preoccupied.
“I wonder when the blow job started,” Kline muses, and I jerk my eyes to his face. Apparently, I’m not the only one. Every single one of us is looking at him like he’s grown a second head. He sighs and laughs at the same time. “Historically speaking, I mean. Everything has to have a starting point. We all know what a great invention it is now, but I’m just wondering who was the first person to think—”