Ford starts slowing down so he can turn in to the parking lot of the Marriott Hotel where the charity silent auction will be held.
Turning my head so I can gauge his honest reaction, I ask him, “Are you okay with this?”
Ford snickers. “We’re not exclusive, Leary. If you’re interested in him, I back away. You know that.”
“I’m not interested in him,” I mutter. “I was trying to intimidate him. Test him. Get the upper hand. Throw him off his game.”
“Fine, then,” he says as he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park. Taking off his seat belt, he leans across the seat toward me, slips his hand back on my thigh, and murmurs, “Let’s blow this party and go back to my place.”
“What? No,” I say quickly, pushing at his hand with no success. “I want to go to this charity event.”
Releasing his grip from my leg, he reaches up and tweaks me on the nose. He grins and says, “You’re cute when you lie, you know that?”
“Whatever,” I say as I turn to open the car door.
“He’s going to be here,” Ford says, and I instantly go still, my hand hesitating on the handle. It crossed my mind, and the thought was making my heart thump and my girlie parts tingle. “Tell me to back away, Leary. You’ve done it before when you wanted to pursue someone.”
My shoulders sag as I sigh and pull on the door handle. It opens and I step out, taking a moment to smooth down my dress. Leaning back down, I look inside the car, Ford’s face now completely awash in light. “I want you to back away,” I tell him quietly.
He nods at me with a smile, and I close the door.
I didn’t tell Ford to back away because I’m interested in a relationship with Reeve. There’s no way that could happen, not with us on opposite sides of an emotionally explosive case.
But I am intrigued by him, and I can’t say I’m hating our sexual flirtations. So I can’t in good conscience continue something with Ford. I might be liberal and open-minded when it comes to my sexuality, but I don’t mess around with two men at the same time.
I’m also not averse to no-strings, hot and steamy sex. Maybe I’ll cross that line with Reeve and maybe I won’t, but I know I needed Ford to back away, leaving me to continue this war I have going on with Reeve.
Ford is off talking to some peers about boring shit like golf. I’ve already put in my bids on a few items for the silent auction, but I hate this networking shit, so now I sit at the bar just off the lobby entrance wanting a little time away from the music, dancers, and egotistical attorneys swarming the ballroom.
The bar is a massive, square-shaped unit that can seat probably ten people on each side. Maybe because it’s a Tuesday night and not much is happening during the week, or maybe because everyone is in the ballroom for the charity event, the bar is completely devoid of people except for me and the young bartender who’s been shooting me flirty looks since I arrived.
My back is to the windows that overlook the Raleigh skyline, and I have an open view of the hotel lobby so I can catch Ford if he’s looking for me. Otherwise, I’m completely happy here in my little bubble, being left alone so I can ruminate about Jenna’s case and the problematic defense attorney with whom I have to deal.
I sip my martini and then swirl the skewered olives around in the glass. I’ve been here for forty minutes and no sign of Reeve. I’m thinking of catching a cab home, not wanting to impose on Ford for a ride since it looks like he’s having a good time.
A warm hand presses to my lower back, and hot breath spreads over my bared shoulder. Lips to my ear, someone presses in close, and I recognize Reeve by the sexual confidence oozing off him. I have no clue how he sneaked by my watch. Probably while I was staring at my olives.
“Don’t you look lonely sitting here all by yourself,” he breathes into my ear. I can’t control the shiver that runs up my spine.
I slowly look at him, making a point to uncross my legs and recross them, knowing it pulls my cocktail dress a little higher up my leg. Another inch and he’ll be able to see the black lace of the stockings he bought me.
Not missing a thing, that man, his gaze goes down to my legs. He fingers the edge of my dress casually, slipping just the tip of his finger under it. Raising his eyes to mine, he asks, “Are those my stockings?”
“My stockings,” I correct him with a smile. “But yes . . . they’re the ones you bought.”
“Am I going to get to see them tonight?” he asks with a boyish grin, tugging on the end of my skirt.
“You’ve already seen them. You bought them, after all,” I quip.
“Tease,” he murmurs with an amused smile, and his hand falls away from my leg. I find it amusing myself that I’m disappointed by the loss of his touch.
Reeve orders Woodford Reserve neat. I fiddle with my olives while his drink is made. After the glass is set down in front of him and he pays, he turns his attention back to me by propping his right arm up on the bar, his left casually resting on the back of my chair.
“So, I’m curious,” he begins as I take another sip of my martini. “All this stripping and cock grabbing . . . is that what I can continue to expect as we proceed through this case?”
“Why? Don’t you like it?” I purr in a sympathetic tone.
Reeve chuckles and his left hand reaches out to caress my shoulder briefly before returning to the back of my chair. “On the contrary, I like it very much. It’s just that I’ve never met someone who uses so much more than just regular legal tactics to win a case. It means I have to change my tactics.”
“Well, don’t expect me to divulge all my battle plans to you. I don’t want you prepared for what I’m going to throw your way.”
Mischief fills Reeve’s eyes and he gives me a wide grin. “Looking forward to it. But I’m also curious—do you fight like this with every other male defense attorney you come up against?”
I hear a bit of censure in his voice, maybe jealousy. I bat my eyelashes at him. “Only if the case is important enough.”
Reeve actually grimaces slightly and his voice is slightly strained. “Have you ever had a case this important before?”
“No,” I tell him softly. Because it’s true. I haven’t.
I might have had cases that were bigger and worth more money, but never one as personally important before.
“What makes this case so special?” he asks, his head tilted in curiosity.
“That is none of your business,” I say firmly, hardening my gaze against his inquisitiveness. There’s no way I would ever tell Reeve about my motivations. Only Midge and Ford are privy to that information, and I only told them so they understand that there aren’t many lines I won’t cross in the pursuit of victory for Jenna.
Reeve stares at me, then gives a slight nod of acceptance. He swivels his head to look around, and I notice that the bartender has his back to us, watching a baseball game on one of the TVs mounted on the wall. Satisfied with the small measure of privacy we have at this moment, Reeve looks back at me. “Now let me see a little bit of those stockings.”
My breath hitches as his gaze drags down to my lap and his left arm leaves the back of my chair. He turns his body to shield me from the bartender and takes the edge of my skirt in between his index finger and thumb. He drags it up slowly—just a few inches are all that’s really needed before the lace edges are revealed. Reeve turns his hand and runs his knuckles over my skin that’s peeping out.
“Spread your legs,” he murmurs, giving my thigh a nudge.
I tilt to the side again, confirming that the bartender has his back to us. No one else is in the bar, although I can see several people walking in and out of the lobby not thirty feet away. Still, Reeve has me blocked from anyone’s view.