Blackjack and Moonlight: A Contemporary Romance

by Braden, Magdalen

  Jack watched her charm his family, her face full of happiness as she laughed at him. In that moment, he had hope. He’d found this extraordinary woman, immediately recognized her as the love of his life, and somehow convinced her to spend time with him. Leaping buildings in a single bound seemed like a simple hurdles race by comparison. He hadn’t crossed the finish line yet, but it felt like a race he could win. Provided he remembered it was a marathon not a sprint.

  His family loved her, he could tell. They were delighted that she didn’t ooh and aah around him. Stacy nodded at everything Elise said, and Lissa hadn’t stopped grinning. Even Bill seemed to hang on Elise’s every word. Jack wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen, but the way Elise fit right in unnerved him. She interacted with his family in a way he never had.

  In most family situations, Jack was an extra wheel. Welcome, appreciated even, but with little purpose for being there. A vestigial limb on the family tree. When Mom died, Stacy became the hub around which everyone revolved. They made him welcome at holidays, included him in their celebrations, and encouraged him to treat their house as his second home. Only now, watching their delight with Elise, could he appreciate how uninvolved he’d been. They loved him, but how much work had he really done to reciprocate that love? They only stayed with him when business brought them to Philly, and not always then. He couldn’t remember ever making any of them laugh.

  Not the way his moonlight girl did—admittedly at his expense. An expense he was happy to pay. He’d taken himself far too seriously for too long.

  Watching the students cross the stage, Elise remembered her own law school graduation. Her dad had claimed an emergency case as his excuse not to show up. He’d missed her law school graduation so he could operate on a dog. Her stepmother wouldn’t leave Ohio without Dad, and Elise’s half-brothers had been in high school. Chances were Dad had never known how lonely she’d felt. Everyone else’s families hooted and cheered as their graduates received a diploma. She’d only had Peggy, who wasn’t the hooting type.

  Elise understood why her family couldn’t be there, but it hurt all the same. She’d been calm while she waited for the As and Bs to precede her and she remained calm when she walked across the stage to shake the dean’s hand. Back in her seat, though, she’d cried as the rest of the alphabet filed up to follow suit. So stupid—it was just a diploma.

  Still, it was bittersweet to be with Jack, watching all these fresh faces as they closed one chapter of their lives and prepared for the work to come. It wasn’t easy to be that young—at least she hadn’t found it easy. The gray hair made her look older, which had been awkward in law school. Once she started working as a lawyer, life got a lot better. Having people add ten years to her age became an asset.

  She must have sniffled because Jack suddenly handed her his handkerchief. She smiled her thanks. He squeezed her hand, comforting her without knowing why she was upset. Sometimes his perfection was a good thing. To repay his kindness, Elise hooted and cheered when Libby Pembroke shook the dean’s hand. It was nice to celebrate as part of a family.

  Elise rather thought the Pembrokes and Jack would jettison her after they found Libby in the throng of black robes and colorful cowls. Stacy set her straight.

  “Don’t be silly. We’re heading out to The County Cork for an old-fashioned Irish celebration. You have to come. I have tons more questions about my baby brother.” Elise allowed Stacy to pull her along back to their hotel where Jack’s car was parked.

  At the bar, Elise was introduced to everyone as Jacko’s girl, which amused her no end. Luckily, Libby was the star of the show.

  “How’re you doing?” Jack asked. He curled his arm around Elise’s shoulders and gave her a little squeeze.

  “A bit bemused, but fine. Who’s the woman putting out all that food?”

  “Sheila, Barney’s wife. My sister went to Catholic school with Barney and Sheila.”

  “Huh. I’d have thought the Fitzgeralds would have popped you guys into some exclusive private school,” Elise said.

  Jack laughed. “They tried, but my mother wouldn’t hear of it, at least not for elementary school. Mom always said nothing good came from putting on airs.”

  “So did you go to the same school?”

  His smile faded and his jaw tightened. “At first. Then I got popped into that exclusive private school.”

  “And was that putting on airs?”

  “Things were different then,” he said. End of subject, clearly.

  “So, Jacko, how did you find yourself a real woman?” Barney asked in a loud voice. Before Jack could respond, Barney announced, “First real woman he’s brought in here. One time, he and some tart came in wearing evening clothes. God’s truth. A tuxedo in here? I thought I’d never live it down.”

  Jack seemed relaxed enough about being teased. “Now, Barney, be fair—it was St. Paddy’s Day. I couldn’t skip the Cork, no matter what I was wearing.”

  “So—were your cummerbund and bow tie emerald green?” Elise asked him, earning a wink and thumbs-up from Barney.

  “Vixen,” Jack whispered into her hair. His arm was along the back of her chair. She could feel his warmth when she leaned back.

  After Libby got some amazing graduation presents—including an apartment from Jack—Elise sensed this was a good time to throw in her own present. “I feel like the evil godmother, handing over the last gift, but I promise you there’s nothing to prick your finger on.” She passed Libby the distinctive robin’s egg blue box tied with a white satin ribbon.

  “Tiffany’s? I am so going to law school,” Lissa said to no one in particular.

  Libby lifted the lid on a black velvet box and revealed a short strand of pearls. Elise figured everyone—every woman—needed a pearl necklace.

  Libby put it on immediately, and let everyone admire it. Then she got up and hugged Elise as she had Jack. “It’s gorgeous. You didn’t have to, you don’t even know me.”

  “I have some pearls I always wear when I go to court,” Elise told her. “They give me courage.”

  Jack turned to look at her. “You weren’t wearing them the last time you were in my courtroom—or my chambers,” he murmured, leaning close to her. She could feel his lips brush against her ear and her skin tingled with a tiny frisson of desire.

  “On the contrary,” she whispered, grinning at his expression. “I never took them off.”

  When Jack’s eyes burned with that flame, the one that wasn’t just about sex, Elise felt it to her core. Oh shit. She was sparring with Godzilla again. Only now she knew how good it felt to lose.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’ve lost track.” Elise’s abruptness made Jack smile. He’d been rewriting an opinion when Brenda transferred the call. Hearing from Elise was just what he needed as a reward.

  “Lost track of what?” His voice was light and carefree.

  “Whose weekend is it?”

  He frowned and looked around the room as if this question would make more sense against a mundane backdrop. No luck. He couldn’t keep up with her thought process, which made fireflies look static.

  “I don’t understand,” he began cautiously.

  Elise sighed dramatically. “We’ve gotten off track. You know? The original agreement? One romantic date, one sex date? So do you remember which we should be having this weekend?”

  The muscles at the top of his left shoulder twinged suddenly and he rubbed at them through his suit jacket. What exactly did Elise want in this situation? They’d made love in his chambers, spent the weekend together in Eagles Mere, attended his niece’s graduation party on Saturday and eaten brunch with Stacy’s family on Sunday. None of those events counted as either sort of date.

  “Actually, I don’t. What would you like it to be?” he asked.

  “Well, we got derailed with that business about the Mather complaint during a sex date at my place. How about we pick up there?” Her tone was serious and a little challenging.

  Jack’s
shoulders slumped. He could tell she really needed to get their relationship back to that arbitrary and narrowly defined exchange. Too little too late, he’d have said, but instinct told him not to argue. This felt backward, as though he’d glanced out the window near the end of a train trip only to see that he’d been traveling in the wrong direction.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. That sounds fine. Your place, Saturday?”

  “Great,” she exclaimed in a gush of relief, enthusiasm back in her voice. She’d been worried about something and he somehow reassured her. He should be glad. Instead, it annoyed him that she needed to reverse their recent progress.

  “I’ve got a treat for you,” she cooed. “Do you want a hint?”

  No. He didn’t. Her sex-kitten voice was normally enticing, but while his body responded to the come-on, he rather resented her attitude. “Just sex” should be any red-blooded male’s idea of the perfect relationship with a woman, while he kept seeing all the things he wanted that didn’t fall under the heading of “just sex.”

  The silence seemed to worry her. “Oh, lord—I’ve interrupted a settlement conference, haven’t I? Why did Brenda transfer the call? I could have just left a message. Look, I’ll go and you can call—”

  “No, that’s not it,” he cut her off. “I’m alone.”

  “Busy?” A note of uncertainty made her sound young. He wanted to reassure her again. If only he knew what her anxiety was about.

  He checked his watch. “There’s a summary judgment hearing in a half hour, but now’s fine.” He deliberately kept his tone light, as though he was going into a witness interview that needed special handling. “How’s work over there?”

  “Oh, you know. It’s the start of summer, so between clients being on vacation and partners off at a Phillies afternoon game, it can be hard to get things done. I have a deposition this week, so I’m keeping my hours up.”

  He kept her talking about her work so that he could twist the bigger problem in his mind, viewing it like a complicated spatial puzzle. Maybe she didn’t realize how much of his life she’d infiltrated recently. She’d seen where he’d spent his childhood summers, she’d met and charmed his family, she’d been in every room in his house. Her ghost haunted corners no one else had even entered.

  “So I was thinking I’d hammer him with the evidence of spoliation at the dep. What do you think?”

  “As opposed to holding it back, in case you need to sandbag him?” Jack asked.

  “Exactly. What would you do?”

  “I’m not sure,” he hedged. “Tell me what you gain versus what you’d lose with each approach.”

  As he’d predicted, Elise took off like a wind-up toy, nattering on about her case with far more passion than he’d seen her expend on their relationship.

  He sighed. Marathon, remember? And the hardest part of any marathon was the middle. He needed to figure out how to get from their current position—wherever that was—to a point where she had to see they were in love and supposed to be together.

  He was still mulling over his options when Elise’s voice slowed down, then sputtered to a stop.

  “So? What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think you’ve answered your own question.”

  Stunned silence, then she laughed. “God, Jack. You’re so smart. Of course that’s what I have to do! I love how good you are at this stuff.”

  He smiled as they hung up, cheered by her enthusiasm.

  At least she’d gotten a solution for her problem. He was left with the same challenge he’d started with—how to get Elise Carroll to see him as more than a “sex date.”

  Had he really not been inside her house since the disaster over the Professional Review Board? That was weeks ago, more than a month.

  “Mmm,” Elise greeted him, pulling him into a deep kiss before he had a chance to say anything. He kicked the door shut behind him and gave himself over to the knee-melting delight of holding her so close.

  When they pulled apart, her blue eyes gleamed with dazed wonder. It wasn’t “just sex” that put that look on her face. He was sure of it. Nonetheless, she wasn’t conscious of whatever she felt for him. He’d gain nothing by pointing it out to her. He stepped back and put his hands on his hips. He cast a mocking eye down her body, which was lushly clad in shorts and a tank top.

  “Do I even get to eat before you take me upstairs and unwrap me like a Christmas present?” He pretended to think for a moment. “Or would that be a Flag Day present?”

  She slapped his shoulder. “Silly judge. Of course you get to eat first. In fact, I’ve planned a rather elaborate menu.”

  He followed her through the living room toward the French doors, open to the late afternoon warmth. The table on the patio had been set with colorful linens and multicolored dishes. She’d already uncorked some red wine, which was quite the concession in the June heat. He’d have been happy with an ice-cold beer.

  Elise was pulling things out of the refrigerator, unpeeling the plastic wrap and passing them to Jack to walk over to the table. They had an elaborate spread when she closed the fridge door for the last time.

  Jack was impressed. “What are we having?”

  Elise stood over the table, eying the food anxiously. “Well, I did some research online. Turkey has some chemical that helps you sleep—”

  “Tryptophan. Sure. So?”

  “So I made a salad with turkey and noodles. I would like us both to get a good night’s sleep this time.” She flicked a glance in his direction but didn’t turn her body enough to make eye contact. “And red wine is supposed to help too.”

  Jack nodded solemnly but he was giddy with happiness. Sleeping together. How wonderfully normal and—and nonsexual.

  He nodded again. “So if I’m sleeping over, I assume you have something planned for breakfast?”

  She lit up like a nighttime baseball game. “You bet. It’s been so hectic, hasn’t it, with Libby’s graduation and—and everything.” She trailed off with a half shrug.

  Jack’s heart ached to tell her how happy he was, how much he appreciated the care she’d taken to extend their date beyond the parameters of “just sex.” It was painful not to release his love and optimism, let them loose like balloons floating in the sultry air. Holding his emotions in check, ironically, aroused him even more than her welcoming embrace.

  Sex and love chased one another in his brain. He reined them in as he squeezed Elise’s hand for a moment, then poured the wine.

  There was a tiny breeze in her walled garden. Elise noticed it when it ruffled Jack’s hair. “You’ve let it grow,” she blurted out.

  He’d been in the middle of some story about court—she wasn’t sure what it had been about, she’d been lost in thought imagining what would happen after dinner—when she saw his hair flutter.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just noticed that it’s longer.”

  Jack reached up to pull his fingertips through the hair at his nape. “It’s driving me crazy. I should have asked you how long I have to grow it. I’ve got to visit the barber eventually.”

  He’d grown his hair for her. Elise put down her fork and stood up. She crossed over to his chair and tugged on his hand to get him to angle his body away from the table. She perched on his knees. He frowned and glanced up at the windows of the house that backed onto her property.

  She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Okay, so I won’t actually strip you naked in the garden.” She nuzzled the hair that was just starting to curl around his ear. “But I didn’t ask you to grow your hair for no reason, you know.”

  “I gathered as much.” Jack moved his lips along her jaw line, setting off mini-tremors of need along her skin. She felt the goose bumps, her nipples budding, desire deepening in her core. Chills and heat confused her body, which had stopped registering anything other than the way he was making her feel.

  “What had you planned for dessert? And by ‘dessert’ I mean, can we get up
stairs soon?” His voice was a hum along the ridge of her ear. She considered the issue of whether they could leave the table as it was, with food uncovered and the dishes dirty, versus the challenge of keeping this peak of arousal going even as they tidied up. The rest of her mind had vaporized in a red mist of sensation as Jack slid his fingers under her top, around her ribcage to fondle her breasts. She was throbbing hard, like the bass line of a jacked-up car stereo.

  “We have to clean up dinner first.”

  Had she said that? She pulled back to look at Jack’s face, his heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips.

  “Right?” he asked.

  Oh. Cleaning up had been his idea.

  She jerked slightly as she took a huge breath. “Wow.” She’d been released from a powerful undertow, shot back out into the surf, desperate to breathe but also longing to go under again. She stared at Jack, who looked back at her with passion-filled eyes.

  She dragged in more air. “Yeah. I guess.” She looked at the table over her shoulder. “Yes.” She looked back at Jack. She could feel his erection pressing against her left thigh. It was giving her ideas that she struggled to block.

  Jack helped by putting his hands, hot and powerful, on her waist and lifting her off his lap. “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll be done,” he reassured her in that dark chocolate voice she couldn’t get enough of.

  When he stood up, Elise pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “The dishes—?”

  “Mmm,” she agreed. His arms came around her shoulders and the relief and comfort flowed over her like a warm shower.

  They stood there, his cheek pressed against her head, her face tucked into his shoulder. She could hear his heart beating, his life and passion and soul tight in her arms. She needed this closeness with Jack. When she wondered why, she broke away and went on to the next chore. She hurried to get them upstairs.