Embry let out a small sigh of relief when she entered the classroom and saw that Luke wasn’t there. Feeling exposed and raw, she attempted to settle in and keep her mind off of him. She decided to use Jeremy as a distraction.
“So what are you up to this weekend, Casanova?” she asked.
“Who, me?” Jeremy said, with a sexy wink.
“Yes, you. Don’t play coy. I know your game. Different girl, different section, every weekend.”
“Hey, don’t believe everything you hear.”
She laughed. “I heard it from you.”
He playfully put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, you got me. This is a stressful environment. A guy needs to blow off some steam every once in a while.”
Embry rolled her eyes. “So which of the slutty sisters is it this week?”
“Nah, I had the sisters last week. I’m moving on.”
Her jaw dropped, and she shoved him in the arm. “Jeremy! I was just kidding!”
“I wasn’t,” he said, nudging her and throwing another wink her way.
Embry wrinkled her nose. “You’re gross.”
The energy in the room suddenly shifted, and the hair on the back of Embry’s neck stood on end as she felt Luke’s eyes on her. She knew the minute he entered the room. She felt him as if they were planets in orbit, always circling, each aware of the other at all times. If the shiver that ran through her wasn’t enough to tell her that Luke had walked into the room, the lack of annoying giggles and chatter was the other clue.
As Luke set up at the podium, the girls around the classroom sat up and primped. They pulled out their mirrors to check their makeup, stuck out their chests, and fluffed and tossed their hair. Embry would’ve felt self-conscious in her simple sundress if they hadn’t looked so utterly ridiculous. It was like watching an episode of National Geographic.
Reading Embry’s mind, Jeremy leaned in and whispered in his best British accent, “The twenty-something female dresses in brightly colored cardigans and pearls in order to attract her mate.” Embry could barely contain her laughter as he continued. “As we observe the twenty-something in her natural habitat, we see her stick out her chest, a mating ritual designed to attract the male with her ample cleavage.”
Embry flew into a fit of giggles. Jeremy would never know how thankful she was for him at that moment. Then Luke looked up, and her heart stuttered. He stared at her for a beat, his mouth set in a straight line, and she saw the muscle in his jaw working. She raised her eyebrows at him—taunting—and watched as the shutters went down behind his eyes. He turned away, tension rolling off of him. His reaction was all Embry needed to boost her resolve. She sat with a smug smile as Luke began class.
He stood behind the podium, casual and in control. He owned the room. He owned any room he entered. He was a bit more dressed up than normal in black dress shoes and pants and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and showing off his tanned skin. His sleeves were rolled up in his signature Luke way, causing Embry to feel warm. She shook her head, annoyed that he had an effect on her.
“All right, everybody,” he addressed the class. “We’re going to pick up where we left off on Wednesday and talk about damages for breach of contract.” He picked up the index cards with everyone’s names and pictures. He shuffled them mindlessly. “Until I get to know y’all a bit better, I’m going to leave the index cards alone. So how about a volunteer, instead, to give me the facts on Hawkins versus McGee?”
Embry’s arm shot up without her permission. Jeremy caught her eye and gave her a horrified look. They never volunteered. But she continued to hold her hand in the air. Luke saw her, but he was stalling, and she took pleasure in watching him look around the room uncomfortably before coming back to her.
“Okay,” he said, pointing at her. “Br—”
Her wide eyes caught his, and he coughed, effectively covering up the fact that he had almost used her nickname. She let out a relieved breath when he made a show of flipping through the index cards to find her picture.
He pulled her card and looked at her. “Miss Jacobs?”
“Yes, Embry.”
“Embry.”
The way her name rolled off of his tongue was pure sex. His deep voice combined with the southern twang did things to her. It wasn’t fair.
“We missed you in class on Wednesday,” he said.
Her ears heated, and a flush crept up her neck. She couldn’t believe he was calling her out in front of the entire class. What a dick. “I was ill,” she said with a bit more attitude than was necessary.
Jeremy nudged her, raising his eyebrows in question. She ignored him and focused her attention on Luke.
“Well then, I hope you’re feeling better. Why don’t you give us the rundown on the hairy hand case.”
“Actually,” she said haughtily, “we’ve covered this case already.” She didn’t even recognize the person speaking. She never behaved that way, but she didn’t care; it felt good.
“Have you?” Luke asked, unfazed.
“Yes, we have. The boy burns his hand on an electrical wire. He goes to a doctor to fix the scarring, and the doctor wants to experiment with skin grafting—”
“Hold on a second, Miss Jacobs.” Luke held up his hand. He turned to the blonde in the front row who was frantically waving her hand back and forth. “Yes,” he paused to find her card in the pile, “Ashley?”
The girl nodded.
“Okay, Ashley, did you have something to add?” he asked.
Embry watched, mouth hanging open, as Ashley twirled her over-processed hair and batted her eyelashes at Luke. “Actually, Professor Brody, we haven’t covered this case yet.”
Luke gave her a face-splitting grin, totally feeding into her infatuation. “Thank you very much, Ashley.”
She let out a small giggle and beamed at him.
He turned back to Embry, eyes narrowed. “Maybe Miss Jacobs has been reading ahead. Whether you’ve covered it or not, let’s hear the rest of it, Embry.”
She wasn’t about to let some skank in the front row make her feel stupid. She lifted her chin, glared at Luke and continued with the facts. “The doctor promised Hawkins a one hundred percent good hand before the surgery. He took skin from the boy’s chest, grafted it to his hand, and the boy wound up with a hairy hand.”
“And what did the court find as far as damages?”
“Well, Professor,” Embry emphasized the word, “they found that the boy had relied on the doctor’s representation, which didn’t turn out to be true.”
“Meaning?” he prompted.
“Meaning”—she stared into his blue eyes and poured all the meaning she could into her words—”he lied.” She saw a crack form in Luke’s cool demeanor. To anyone else, he would appear calm and collected, but the tense set of his shoulders and the way he rubbed at his neck told her a different story.
He took a breath, most likely trying to compose himself. “I’m not sure he lied,” he said carefully, “he just didn’t fulfill his guarantee.”
Embry raised her eyes to the ceiling and let out a huff. “Either way, the doctor guaranteed a one hundred percent good hand, but Hawkins was left with scarring, “ she paused for effect before continuing, “and a hairy palm to top it off.”
Jeremy choked on his laughter next to Embry and she stared Luke down, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
“Okay, Miss Jacobs, thank you for your enthusiastic statement of the facts. But what did the court actually decide?” he asked, irritation clouding his usually clear blue eyes.
“They found that damages should be determined as the difference between what Hawkins was promised, a one hundred percent good hand, and what he received, a hairy palm.”