I glance at the bartender, but her attention is laser focused on a guy sitting in front of her at the bar.
“Can we put it behind us?” Hope edges her words. “The Alcester case is important to Kurt and I promised him I’d do right by his client… our client.”
“Your client doesn’t deserve you.”
“My client has faults, but he’s a good man,” she says with conviction.
“Your client is a cheating coward.” The words spill out of me without any thought.
Christ. I need to temper myself around her. Eden is not like every other attorney I go up against.
I know her heart. She’s compassionate and caring. She was that one soul in high school who would befriend the kid nobody wanted anything to do with.
She rescued injured cats and worked at a homeless shelter on the weekends.
She’s everything I’ll never be.
She leans her elbows on the table. “You don’t know your client as well as you think you do.”
I scratch my chin. That lures her gaze to the light beard that covers my jaw.
“She’s not perfect, Dylan.” Her finger taps the table between us.
“You’re itching to say something, counselor.” I pat my chest. “I’m dying to hear what you think you know about my client that I don’t know.”
“You want me to hand my advantage over to you?” She pushes back in her chair. “That’s not going to happen.”
Seeing Eden like this is new for me. I like it. My cock fucking loves it. I’m hard as stone.
“Give me a hint.” I smirk, because I know she’s got nothing.
Trudy Alcester is almost as good of a person as Eden is. She’s a philanthropist, a faithful wife, and a devoted mother.
One of her husband’s mistresses blindsided her with a visit to their doorstep to expose his sins.
I got a call from Trudy the next day.
Eden’s gaze darts around the bar. “Just between the two of us, when you saw me at Veil East the other night, I was there looking for someone who knows your client.”
I can’t contain a hearty laugh. “Who the hell in that club would know Trudy Alcester?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “You’re just going to have to wait until I call that witness to the stand.”
What the fuck is this? A bluff?
I had Trudy swear on everything dear to her that she wasn’t hiding anything from me. I trust her, but what sorcery is Eden trying to pull.
“She hasn’t fucked around.” I motion for the bartender to bring me another scotch, but she can’t take her eyes off the guy she’s flirting with.
My phone pings in my jacket pocket just as Eden’s starts ringing in her purse.
“Duty calls,” she quips as she fishes in her bag.
I slide my phone out and glance down at the text on the screen.
Gunner wants a minute of my time to go over a case that we’re closing out this week.
He can wait.
Apparently, Eden’s client can’t.
I listen as she answers the phone in a cheery tone. “Troy? How are you?”
She rises to her feet, tossing me a wave as she points at her watch.
Chatting to the bastard about their next meeting, she turns to walk away.
Some of my questions were answered tonight, but not all. I’ll get Eden alone again before week’s end and when I do, business will be the last thing on my mind.
Chapter 14
Eden
I had a feeling Dylan would show up here.
I’m back at Veil East. Part of the reason is my ongoing search for a witness for the Alcester case. The other part is the music and the dance floor.
Back in Buffalo, I have a regular club that I go to when I want to blow off some steam.
I can have a drink, dance, and socialize with the people I work with in a safe environment.
Dancing is fuel for my soul.
The car accident derailed my plan to earn a living dancing, but I never lost my passion for it.
Dylan tosses me a wave from the stool he’s set himself on near the bar.
I wave back, trying not to stare.
He’s wearing gray slacks and a black V-neck sweater. A few strands of his hair are brushing his forehead.
It’s ridiculous how gorgeous the man is.
He called the office earlier today to check on Kurt. He spoke to Mrs. Burton. She relayed the good news. Kurt’s surgery this morning was a success. He’ll be home early next week and back at work within the month.
I invited Noelle to come with me tonight to celebrate, but she chose sleep over dance.
I can’t blame her. I saw the weariness in her eyes when I got home from work today. Relief washed over her expression when she blurted out that her dad was awake and alert enough to ask for a cheeseburger with extra bacon.
“Red is your color.”
I turn my head to find a man next to me. He’s blond, cute, and definitely younger than me.
“You think?” I spin in a circle to show off the wrap dress I love to wear when I’m dancing.
“I know.” He flashes me a devilish grin. “You’re beautiful.”
I’m tempted to look over at Dylan, but I don’t owe him a thing.
We share a platonic past and a one-night stand.
I wasn’t his first. I know I won’t be his last.
For all I know, he’s already mid-pick-up tonight.
“I’m Hank.” The blond man in the black suit and tie offers a hand to me. “What’s your name?”
I’d ask him if it matters, but I think to him it might.
He can’t be more than twenty-four or twenty-five. He took time and care with his appearance.
His jaw is closely shaved, his hair neatly trimmed, and the cologne he’s wearing is expensive. At first glance, it would be easy to make the assumption that he works in an office tower in the heart of the city.
The callus on his thumb and the tanned skin of his nose and cheeks tell a different story.
He works hard for a living, somewhere in the sun.
“Eden,” I offer back as I slide my palm into his hand.
“As in the Garden of Eden? Are you the paradise I’ve been looking for?” he jokes. “Dance with me?”
It can’t hurt. There’s a certain comfort that comes from having the strong arms of a man wrapped around me as I move to the music.
It’s heaven if the man can keep the same rhythm as me.
Dylan can. He always could.
The first time I asked Dylan to dance I was sixteen-years-old. He picked me up from a modern dance class so I could tutor him before football practice.
The ride in his shiny red Mustang was a treat, but the dance we shared before we left the rehearsal hall was what got my pulse racing and made my knees weak.
He took me in his muscular arms. I placed a hand on his broad shoulder and shivered when his hand slid down my back.
He twirled me in circles, his blue eyes never leaving mine, as the room cleared and my infatuation bloomed into a full-on crush.
It was a crush on the boy who saw me as the coach’s daughter.
That’s all I was to him until two nights ago.
“I hope you can keep up with me,” I say to Hank.
He pulls me close, his breath skirting over my cheek. “I have no doubt that I can.”
He leads, clumsily, as the music shifts from a throbbing fast beat to a slow, smooth pace.
He spins me once toward the bar. I steal a glance, not wanting to make eye contact with Dylan.
My heart stutters for a beat when I realize that the stool he was sitting on is vacant.
He’s either left with someone or is on this dance floor, sweeping another woman off her feet, just as he did with me.
We had a moment in time that I never thought we would. It was a moment that I had dreamed of when I was a seventeen-year-old girl watching the boy she wanted walk away from her.
“Eden?” Dylan’s voice behind
me drags my gaze over my shoulder.
I lock eyes with him.
He glances at Hank. “She’s with me, pal.”
“Are you?” Hank asks, disappointment edging his tone.
I look at his kind face. On another night, in another club, things might have been different.
“I requested our song next.” Dylan moves to stand next to me. “You belong in my arms for that one.”
Our song? My curiosity is strong enough to pull me away from my current dance partner.
I turn my attention back to him as couples dance past us. “It was nice meeting you, Hank.”
I smile when he drags my hand to his mouth to plant a kiss on it. “It was my pleasure, Paradise.”
When Hank turns to walk away, Dylan leans in until his lips brush against my ear. “He has no idea what paradise is. You taught me the meaning of the word two nights ago.”
I close my eyes against the rush of desire I feel.
“Dance with me, Eden,” he whispers, his hands gliding over my waist. “Let the music take you away.”
I step closer to him just as the song changes again. The track we slow danced to the other night fills the air in a pounding beat.
It’s fast, jumpy, and pulls the people around us apart as they flail their arms and bounce up and down.
Dylan tugs me against him and without any thought, we dance to our own rhythm, the same way we did when we were teenagers in the rehearsal hall.
Chapter 15
Dylan
I came to Veil East tonight with the hope that by some off chance, Eden would be here.
I found her wearing a red dress with her hair cascading down her back in waves. The same fiery color stained her lips. I wanted to kiss it off.
Yearned to kiss it off.
I watched from the shadows as she danced her way through two songs before I took a seat at the bar.
I was about to join her when a guy in a black suit approached her.
I studied every move between them. I saw her tug on the silver hoop in her right ear. I stared as he raked her from head-to-toe, his gaze stumbling on the fullness of her breasts under the fabric of her dress.
I swear to fuck he was as mesmerized with her as I was when I first saw her the other night. The truth is, I was captivated when I was seventeen and she asked me to dance when I went to pick her up for one of our tutoring sessions.
I’ll never forget that night.
I fell in love with her as she looked up into my face with her big, blue eyes. I held her petite body in my arms and wished that I could take her in my car and drive her to a place where no one would ever find us.
“Are you thinking about how I’m going to wipe the floor with you in court?” Eden elbows me as we stand on the sidewalk outside the club.
People are milling about. Some want into the venue. Others escaped the crowded dance floor just as we did.
It was Eden’s idea to take a breather outside.
I haven’t broached the idea of going back to my place again. I’ll let her set the pace tonight.
I shake my head. “No shop talk tonight.”
“What do you want to talk about, Dylan?” She smiles.
Christ, she’s so goddamn beautiful.
Her hair is wild. A light sheen of sweat dots her forehead and that red lipstick disappeared onto the rim of the glass of scotch I ordered after we danced.
I took the first sip. The rest slid between her lips when she tugged the glass from my hand.
She’s already feeling the impact of that.
Her cheeks have flushed pink. Her breathing has slowed.
“Let’s talk about high school.”
I have no idea if this is the right time for us to stroll down memory lane, but there’s only one way to find out.
“High school?” She spins in a circle. “I know that you couldn’t let go of Barrett. No surprise there, but who else do you still see?”
“No surprise there?” I reach forward to brush a strand of her hair away from the side of her face. “What the fuck does that mean?”
She laughs aloud, the sound clear and pure.
“You two were always like this.” She crosses her middle finger over her index finger. “You’re like peanut butter and jelly, or soup and sandwiches.”
“You’re hungry,” I say with confidence, taking some pride in the fact that I still remember things about her that should have been easily forgotten. “You used to talk about food whenever you were hungry.”
“Only for fries.” She glances over her shoulder at a car stopping next to the curb. “I haven’t had fries in forever and a day.”
“I’ll take you for fries, and we’ll talk about high school.”
“About Barrett?” She laughs. “He’s hot so I get the appeal.”
“He’s not hot.” Chuckling, I shake my head.
“Not as hot as you,” she says quietly.
I’ll gladly take the compliment. I’ll also take the beautiful soft smile that came with it.
***
“Show off.” She takes a bite of another fry. “Why am I not surprised that we’re eating truffle fries and drinking champagne? I would have been happy with soggy fries from the fast food place across the street and a diet soda.”
I would have been happy feeding her those soggy fries in my bed, but I’m trying to keep my aching dick out of this, for now.
Nova is co-owned and operated by a friend of mine.
Tyler Monroe is the head chef and the guy who can whip up a heaping plate of truffle fries on a moment’s notice.
I sent him a text message on our way here.
We walked over since the restaurant is only a few blocks from the club, and Eden insisted that she needed the fresh air to sober up.
The champagne won’t help with that, but I expect my explanation for why I ordered it will bring another smile to her face.
I lift my glass in the air. “Here’s to my taking your client for every penny he has. I can already taste the sweetness of victory.”
Her glass stays on the table even though the corners of her lips are tugging up into an almost grin. “I thought that you didn’t want to talk about my pending win in the Alcester case. I’ve never lost in court, Dylan.”
“How many cases have you tried? Two? Three?”
That parts her lips in a soft laugh. “Who else besides Barrett do you still see from school?”
“No one,” I answer honestly. “I broke free of Chicago right out of the gate.”
Her gaze drops. “New York City was calling your name?”
“NYU was.” I reach for a fry. “That’s not news to you.”
“I remember.” She watches as I chew. Her gaze slides to my neck when I swallow.
I like that she’s interested enough to stare.
“Have you kept in touch with anyone, Eden?”
I don’t give a shit if she still talks to Brittany, her best friend from senior year. I only want to know about Clark, the guy she was head over heels for. The fool who didn’t know what he had in her.
“Do you remember Brittany?”
For fuck’s sake.
I nod. “Sure. She was the cheese to your macaroni.”
She tosses her head back in laughter. “She’s the Barrett to my Colt.”
I thought she’d forgotten the nickname everyone called me; everyone but her.
I was Dylan to her. Plain and simple. She didn’t listen when I told her to call me Colt.
I secretly loved that she ignored my request and called me by my first name whenever she got the chance.
“Do you talk to anyone else?” I push, fishing for Clark’s name and the confirmation that he’s completely out of the picture.
“Like who?” She levels her gaze on me.
I spit it out because I want the subject swept under the rug tonight before I take her back to my bed. “Clark Dodson. What’s the story with the two of you?”
The fry she just picked up falls to the table from her tre
mbling hand. “There’s no story to tell. Clark is part of my past.”
Chapter 16
Dylan
In court, this is the point when my pulse quickens and I go in for the proverbial kill.
I crave this look on the face of my clients’ soon-to-be exes when they take the witness stand. It’s an intoxicating mix of terror and fear.
Seeing it flash across Eden’s expression only knots my gut.
I should feel a rush of relief knowing that Clark is history to her, but he’s not.
If he were, she wouldn’t have downed every drop of her champagne in one gulp.
She starts to reach for my glass, but I halt her hand with a brush of mine over it. “Eden.”
Her eyes close briefly at the sound of my voice.
When they open she’s found something again. It’s composure or a sense of calm.
Whatever it is, it’s a respite from the turmoil that crowded her just seconds ago.
She’s pulled herself together in the blink of an eye. I’m an expert at it myself. I hate that she’s had to perfect the skill too.
“I’ve had too much to drink.” A soft faux laugh bubbles from somewhere shallow within her.
It’s supposed to shift the focus from my question about Clark to her abrupt departure. I sense it coming. It’s about to happen.
“I should go.”
There it is.
“Where are you staying?” I’m not asking because I’m about to offer an invitation to my place. Curiosity is feeding my need to know where she’s going to end up tonight.
“With Kurt’s daughter.” Her gaze falls to her watch. “Noelle. She has an extra bedroom. I’m sleeping there while I’m in the city.”
I’ll take her back to wherever the hell that is but first I want to know when she’s planning on heading home to Buffalo.
Until now, I haven’t given any thought to the fact that her time in New York is temporary. Our time together is fleeting.
“Kurt drafted you to be the star of his Manhattan dream team. What’s the plan after the Alcester case?”
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