Burn for Me

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Burn for Me Page 6

by Lea Coll


  “Kelli,” I called once I’d calmed Ms. McClellan down and headed to where her desk sat just outside my office.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  I tilted the file toward her. “You tell me. There’s a work order here for a letter to the client advising of the postponement, but it was never done.”

  She came closer to see it. “I usually mark it when I’m done, but it doesn’t look like I ever saw this. Are you sure you put it on my desk?”

  One of us could have made a mistake, but this had never happened at the public defender’s office. I trusted my secretary not to let anything fall through the cracks. I didn’t have that same relationship with Kelli, so I’d need to double-check things myself for a while. “That’s what I would have done if I filled out a work order for you.”

  “Well, I don’t know what happened,” she huffed. “I timestamp the work order when I start the work and when it’s completed. Then I place it on your desk for your review and signature.”

  But the work order hadn’t been marked at all. “Be more careful in the future.” I’d let a few things slide with Kelli because I was new, but it was my reputation on the line. Ms. McClellan seemed fine when I got off the phone, but she could still call one of the partners and complain. I needed to be diligent to make sure nothing like this happened again.

  She shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye out on your calendar and double-check to make sure trial notices and postponements are mailed.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  This time when I went back to my office, Logan partially blocked my way. “Screw up, already, Cook?” he asked softly as I brushed past him.

  His words had me gritting my teeth. How long had he been standing there?

  “You forget to call your client? Rookie mistake.” His breath tickled my ear as he leaned down, speaking softly to me.

  He stood so close I could smell his aftershave. “I’m not sure, but Kelli was supposed to send out a letter.” I moved away from him so I could think without him standing so close. “I don’t know what happened. I placed it on her desk but found the file in the cabinet.”

  “We’re new here. We don’t have the secretaries’ respect yet. Might be a good idea to call yourself from now on even if a letter was sent.”

  “No, kidding. It wasn’t fun trying to calm my client down and I hope she doesn’t call and complain about me.” I needed to be more careful and not rely on the secretary like I had at my old job. It was my responsibility.

  “Don’t worry about it, Cook. It happens.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me? This is a perfect opportunity for you to rub this in my face.” I scrutinized him while he shifted uncomfortably.

  “Let’s just say, I like a fair fight.” He nodded his head toward the wall separating my office from Sadie Cole’s. “What’s up with the new girl?”

  “Sadie?”

  “Yeah, she doesn’t talk much.” He leaned against my desk.

  Why did he care? Was he interested in her? “You found someone else who’s immune to your charms.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” His cocky smirk caused anger to race through my body. “You’re not immune,” he said it like it was a fact.

  “Trust me, Logan, I’m not interested in you.”

  He smiled like what I said was funny. “We’ll see about that.” His voice was deep and resonant.

  I licked my lips, unable to look away from the intensity in his eyes, and I found myself wondering if he liked dirty talk in bed. How the hell did thinking about the timbre of his voice lead to thoughts of sex? When Logan flirted with me, he was serious—there was no dimple popping, a cocky smile, or sparkling blue eyes. It was all dark eyes, intensity, and heat. It made me think about how he’d be in bed and I shivered at the thought. I had no business thinking of Logan’s skills in bed.

  He suddenly pushed off the desk as if he could read my thoughts. “If you’re trying to discourage me; it’s not working.”

  That was the question. Did I want to keep discouraging him? I hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. At the end of this probationary period only one of us would make partner and if it was Logan or me, we couldn’t date each other anyway. It wouldn’t even make sense to start something even if my body had other ideas.

  EMMA MANAGED TO SKIP MOST of the training sessions the rest of the week, leaving me alone with Logan. I was starting to crave the early morning runs, but I told myself it was the endorphins from running, not Logan.

  “Hey killer,” Logan said when I approached him Sunday morning. His eyes traveled lazily from my head to my toes causing my body to heat up and my heart to race.

  “Let’s do a quick warm-up.” He checked his watch.

  We started at a brisk pace since I was in better shape now. Thoughts of the day we met tumbled around in my brain and I asked, “What happened to that woman you were with when we met? You know tall, bleached blond hair, tan, long legs.”

  “You have a good memory.” He chuckled. “Yeah, she wouldn’t leave me alone back then. I wasn’t the best at discouraging her either.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as we ran down Cross Street in front of the shops.

  “I attract women easily and I’m bad at telling them I’m not interested. I know that sounds conceited, but women are drawn to me.”

  “You’re a charming guy. I get that.” It was the same reason I’d see women approach him when we were out in a group.

  “Yeah, that’s probably why I was serious with one woman in college and then another in law school, it kept other women at bay. It was easier to be in a relationship. That sounds like I used them, but I liked them and I was a good boyfriend. I didn’t want anything more. When you get to law school, women are looking for a husband. I wasn’t ready for that, so that’s why my law school girlfriend broke up with me.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.” I was thinking of marriage with my law school boyfriend.

  “I haven’t dated anyone seriously since then. I’m not saying I’ve been a saint, but most women at this age want to settle down and I haven’t met anyone I feel the same way about.”

  This was more information than I’d ever gotten about Logan and it explained everything. He did have a way with women; he drew them in with a smile, made them feel like they were the only one in the room. Feeling sympathy for his situation, I pushed him teasingly. “It must be hard to have to say no to all those women.”

  We rounded the corner and ran under the arched entryway to campus nearest the track. “It is. You have no idea what a hardship it is.”

  I snorted. “I bet.”

  “Are you making fun of me, Cook?” He had an evil glint in his eye as he swung his arm out as if to tickle me.

  I squealed, dodging to the side so quickly I felt a twinge in my calf. “Don’t chase me; I’m too tired to run from you.” I tried to run away from him, but he easily tackled me to the ground, straddling my hips, and tickling my ribs. “Please, stop,” I cried between bouts of giggling.

  Then his fingers stilled, his hands spanning my rib cage, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. He leaned over, so his mouth hovered just over mine. I instinctively arched a little, wanting his hands to move higher over my breasts. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Drawing you in.”

  “Teasing me is more like it.” When he was straddling me, it was hard to think of anything else.

  “This is me making an effort to get you to notice me, Ashley. I know you want me too.” His eyes challenged me to disagree, but I couldn’t, not after my reaction to him. It was then I noticed the twinge in my calf had turned into a sharp pain. I tried to reach for it wincing in pain.

  Logan jumped off of me. “Did I hurt you?”

  “When you tried to grab me, I jumped, and felt a twinge in my calf.” I sat up and stretched my hand down the back of my leg to show him where. “It’s feels more like a sharp pain now.”

  “Maybe you didn’t stretch long enough. Lay back and I’ll
help stretch it for you.”

  “Or maybe you shouldn’t grab people when they’re running,” I teased.

  He arched a brow, and said seriously, “Maybe you should stop running from me.”

  I swallowed but didn’t trust myself to speak. He’d said he wanted me to notice him and now this? I thought he was interested in me before and was wrong. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again even though my body was saying otherwise.

  When my back and feet were flat on the ground, Logan knelt between my legs, lifting my foot off the ground, pressing my injured leg straight in the air then used his weight to lightly press my leg toward me. “You feel a stretch?”

  I grimaced. “It hurts a little.” Soon the stretch started to feel good and I focused on the warmth of his hands through my thin leggings, and my foot resting on his shoulder, which caused a tingle to travel from my calf to my core and my face to heat.

  As the pain eased, Logan increased the stretch and I bit my lip as he shifted between my legs. After a few minutes, his eyes darkened and dropped to my lips. “What are you thinking about, Cook?” he asked quietly.

  I cleared my throat. “How good it feels.” I felt myself get wet and my nipples pucker from the light pressure of him between my legs.

  “I can make you feel better.”

  If we’d been alone in one of our apartments, my answer would have been please, but we were in a public park where anyone could see us.

  “Is this how you come on to all of your women?” I asked, trying to distract myself from his touch. If I was mad at him, I couldn’t be turned on.

  “I think it’s a bit of an exaggeration to say I have all these women.” He placed my injured leg on the ground and picked up my other leg to stretch.

  “In high school, you had all the girls after you. You paraded a new girlfriend around each week, with her wearing whatever jersey of yours was in season.”

  “The important thing is that you noticed me.” He smirked, causing his dimples to pop.

  “You’re not my type.” I remembered the woman he’d been with that night at the Fish House—her bleached blond hair, too-short skirt and sky-high heels.

  “Let me guess. You go for the studious straight-laced, type-A personalities, who don’t play sports.”

  My mind flashed back to Greg in law school. “How did we get on this topic?” I desperately wanted to change the subject and pull my calf out of his hand, but he tightened his grip.

  He smiled smugly. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  I huffed. “Why does it matter?”

  “You should branch out a little. Try something new.”

  “Is that what you are—something new?” I asked breathlessly.

  “I am. And you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He released my leg. “Feel better?”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice. My leg felt better but my core still throbbed from his proximity and his touch. And I couldn’t forget what he’d said earlier—he wanted me to notice him and I should stop running from him. It sounded so simple.

  LATER THAT MORNING, I MET with Emma and Luke at the farmers’ market, which closed down High Street near the fountain and the courthouse. The children’s area was set up by the fountain with a bouncy house, bubbles, chalk, and hula hoops. Fanning out from the park were tables of produce, candles, pickles, meats, cheeses, wines, ice cream, flowers, and Samantha’s Sweet Treats Bakery booth where Jack and Samantha were working today.

  “I can’t believe you’re here, in the flesh. I didn’t think you were allowed to leave the office? Do you have cots to sleep on?” Emma laughed.

  I winced at her accurate description. I felt guilty for missing out on seeing my friends. “Hey, that’s a real thing.” We’d both heard of judge’s law clerks sleeping in the office due to the workload. “I have to work later. Most of the partners work Sundays,” I said.

  “So, if they’re in the office you need to be too?” Emma asked.

  “You got it. Face time and all of that.” Partners wanted to see us in the office; working from home was discouraged.

  “Did you guys see Chestertown Cat & Dog Rescue is here today?” Stella asked, coming up to us.

  Stella was usually at all of the town events covering them for the newspaper. “That’s the charity for the town’s 5k,” I said, noticing for the first time the dogs and the volunteers under cover of some trees in the park. There was a mix of breeds and some cats in cages.

  Emma immediately walked up to what looked like a buff-colored mix of some sort. “Oh, look at you. You’re adorable.”

  “His name is Bailey. His owner had to give him up when one of their kids was diagnosed with a dog allergy,” the volunteer said who was holding his leash. Her name tag read Mary.

  “That’s sad.” I couldn’t imagine having to give up a dog. I placed my hand under his mouth so he could smell me then I patted his head, scratching his ears when he leaned into my hand. He was so sweet and soft. I could see having a dog greet me when I came home, cuddling with me on the couch, and going for a run with one.

  Emma cupped Bailey’s face. “Look at his eyes. Isn’t he sweet?” she asked Luke.

  Luke chuckled. “We have a dog.”

  “But Hunter’s so lonely when we’re at work. He needs a friend,” Emma said.

  “I don’t think it works like that,” Luke said. “They’re not people.”

  “Dogs are social creatures,” Mary said. “They like company.”

  “You’re not helping,” Luke said as he shook his head and laughed. “My girlfriend would adopt every dog if she could. We’re not home enough right now to get another dog.”

  “It’s important that they’re not left too long during the day,” Mary said.

  “What about you, Ashley?” Emma asked.

  I’d love one but I didn’t see how it was possible right now. “I live in an apartment and work crazy hours.”

  “Maybe if you had a dog though, you’d have a reason not to work so much,” Emma said.

  I crouched down when the dog pushed his nose into my hand and he licked my face. I laughed and scratched his ears. “A dog would be nice—maybe one day.” My apartment was lonely when I came home.

  I ate most meals at my desk since I was up at five A.M. to run, home for a shower, and then I went to work until eight or nine at night. I’d bring work home, crash when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, and start all over again the next day. It was unhealthy and not sustainable. As much as I was convinced I could work the hours, now that I was doing it, I was skeptical.

  I enjoyed my old job—the camaraderie with the other attorneys and secretaries. I missed sparring with Logan in court even though our relationship had morphed into something more complex—caring about me, supporting me at work, admitting he wanted me. Now I wasn’t in court as much and I spent most of my time tied to a desk in front of a computer. It wasn’t what I thought it would be.

  “You should adopt him. He loves you.” I looked up to find a man in some kind of army green forest ranger-looking uniform, a patch on his chest read Department of Natural Resources, and a gun was strapped to his waist. He had messy reddish-brown hair, a beard, and he was a little shorter and stockier than Luke.

  “Wyatt!” Luke clasped him on the shoulder “How are you, man?”

  “Good. Busy at work,” Wyatt said then looked at me.

  “Wyatt Carter?” I asked, remembering him from high school. He’d been two years behind me in school and good friends with Jack’s little sister, Lucy, but I hadn’t seen him much since.

  “That’s right.” He took a step closer to me and shook my hand. “Ashley Cook, right? Valedictorian and Most Likely to Succeed. What are you up to now?”

  “Working at Gunner, Thompson & Anderson as an attorney,” I said.

  “Wow. An attorney. Impressive.” Wyatt’s smile widened as he squeezed my hand and released it.

  “Want to get together sometime? Catch up?” I thought he was talking to Luke, but he sta
red intently at me, waiting for my response.

  I opened my mouth to say sure when Logan approached with Sawyer trailing behind him, asking, “Are you getting a dog?” His eyes were going back and forth between Wyatt and me.

  “No, you know, I don’t have time for pets.” I crossed my arms over my chest, uncomfortable with Logan sizing up Wyatt.

  Just then another family wanted to pet Bailey, so we moved over to give them room.

  “I’m Logan Gray. And you are?” Logan asked Wyatt, holding out his hand.

  “Wyatt Carter. I went to school with these guys.” He gestured at our little group. “But I was in the same grade as Jack’s little sister, Lucy.”

  “Yeah, I don’t remember you.” Then Logan turned to me. “It’s too bad you don’t have time to adopt a dog between work and training with me for the race. You’ve always wanted one, right?” He watched Wyatt’s face as he said it.

  “Yeah.” We’d discussed this during our runs.

  “You guys are running,” Wyatt looked back and forth between us, “together?”

  I think he was curious if we were dating, but I gestured at Emma. “This one is supposed to join us, but she can’t get out of bed.”

  She laughed and placed a hand on Luke’s chest. “Can you blame me?”

  “Wyatt this is my girlfriend, Emma Ryan,” Luke said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Emma said, holding her hand out for Wyatt to shake. “I just moved here from the city last year.”

  “Really? You don’t hear of people moving to the Eastern Shore,” Wyatt said.

  “My job transferred me here. Then I met a great group of friends,” Emma said gesturing to us, “and a guy I couldn’t resist.”

  Wyatt smiled. “That’s great, Luke. You should put a ring on this one’s finger soon.”

  “No, kidding!” Stella said. “I keep telling them I’m excited to plan a wedding.”

  “You’ll be the first to know, Stella,” Emma said, “and then the whole town will know.” Stella couldn’t keep a secret.

 

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