Rogue Passion (The Rogue Series Book 5)

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Rogue Passion (The Rogue Series Book 5) Page 8

by Chelsea M. Cameron


  “What’s his last name?” Ella asked, fingers poised on the keyboard. I told her with a groan.

  A whistle escaped Ella’s lips. “Holy mackerel!” I’d never once heard Ella swear. Even when she’d gone almost forty-eight hours without sleep during the chaotic implementation of the racist travel ban that had her working around the clock to help panicked families at JFK, she’d voiced her frustration exclusively through weird old-lady idioms. “This guy is hot!” Her eyes flicked over the screen. “He has like zero social-media presence which is kinda nuts. But his little staff bio on his work website says he runs the volunteer program at the Catskill Animal Rescue League too. I mean…wow.”

  “He’s also my client. Hence my near panic attack.” I drained the rest of the wine in my glass. “I can’t believe I let him kiss me. What the actual hell is wrong with me?”

  Ella pressed a finger to her lips in thought. “Well, he’s not exactly your client. He’s part of the coalition or whatever, but it’s not like he’s retaining you directly. It kind of seems like a gray area, no?”

  Was it a gray area? I hadn’t thought so, but it was possible Ella was right. Maybe I should unearth my legal ethics textbook after all and look into similar dilemmas. No. This was ridiculous. I had no reason to get in touch with Max again. If we had to speak for any reason, I would channel my inner Barack Obama. Cool, collected, and scandal-free. Gray area or not, I was so not letting this go anywhere. No way was I going to fixate on the way Max overwhelmed every one of my senses as he drew me in close. I was absolutely not going to replay the low growl in the back of his throat when I’d relaxed into the inadvisable kiss. And I certainly was not going to fall into bed, imagining how it would feel to sink into sleep with my face pressed against his chest.

  4

  Max

  April ~ Eight Months Later

  The morning dawned damp and gloomy. My sleepy brain snapped to some poem we’d been forced to read in high school that claimed April was the cruelest month. Although I hadn’t understood then why Mrs. Parker spent an entire week picking apart every line, now I was pretty sure the poet was right on. Because this April had sucked. Daily torrents of rain made my drive to the office and shelter miserable, and left me feeling cagey. I thrived on being outside, but even I didn’t want to go hiking or running in the cold, early-spring rain. The only upside was that the gray, miserable weather matched my stormy mood.

  I was an idiot. Harry and I had spent all of four hours together, but I’d straight up pined for this kid for the last eight months. I was acting like a damn teenager, not a grown-ass man. Sure, living in a town of barely four hundred people didn’t leave much room for meeting single queer men. But I still felt pathetic. Because that kiss had unmoored me. Despite the fact that Harry fled my truck in what seemed like horror, I couldn’t forget the way he’d whined as our lips met. His slim fingers scrabbling at my shirt and the hot slide of his tongue over mine. Fuck. I’d woken up with a semi and was about to get fully hard letting myself think about him. Again. I led my brain into unsexy territory, forcing an image of our joke of a president into my mind. Perfect. Now I was furious instead of turned on.

  Groaning, I slid out of bed and pulled on yesterday’s jeans and the first shirt my hands found in the dresser. I needed to get moving so I had time to open the shelter before heading over to work. And as if thoughts of the shelter conjured her into being, Mindy, my ancient calico cat slinked in through the open door and fixed me with a scolding look. She was quickly followed by Ed’s gigantic brindle body. The pit bull’s ploy for breakfast was far less subtle, involving whining, marching around the perimeter of my bed, and a lot of sneezing. He was a weird dog.

  “Okay,” I grumbled, and the three of us padded downstairs and took care of breakfast. Kibble for them, toast for me. I made it out to my car before seven. The air was damp and heavy, the clouds churning in the sky. The fresh smell of the breeze had me, once again, thinking of Harry. How he’d smelled sweetly grassy, like chamomile. I dragged a hand over my face, embarrassed at myself for being such a sap. I didn’t do this. I didn’t fixate and lust like this. I didn’t draft texts and emails only to delete them. For god’s sake the only contact I’d had with our attorney in the past months had been a few conference calls. Harry had briskly updated the coalition on the progress of the case and earnestly sought our concerns. But I’d stayed silent during each of the calls. Sheila had even teased me about my new subdued nature, wondering why I didn’t push back against the bureaucratic delays that typically infuriated me.

  I needed to focus on something, anything but my pathetic crush on a dude who clearly had no interest in me. Or if he did, he was too committed to his professional ethics to put himself at risk. I could respect that. Certainly I didn’t want to put the kid in a difficult position with his job. This stupid crush would wear itself out eventually. It had to. Really, I needed to blow off some steam. But being an out gay man in a rural area and a grump who hated both bars and online dating meant I’d been in a serious dry spell since Charlie and I ended things almost a year ago. So sex as a distraction was a no-go. I would just have to throw myself even harder into work. Good thing I was pumped about the new solar farm initiative.

  Thanks to Sheila’s tenacity and the fact that I had no life, the community solar project was getting off the ground and stood to bring both environmental and economic benefits to the Hudson Valley. Allowing my mind to fill with energy-use statistics and the logistics of the incentive program, I relaxed.

  Turning the corner into the Catskill Collective parking lot, I spotted him right away, hunched under the narrow overhang but still getting drenched with rainwater. What the hell was Harry doing here? Quickly I tamped down the hot spark of excitement that there was any chance the kid was here to see me. Then my brain started firing in a million directions as I jogged across the parking lot to where our attorney stood by the locked door. Sheila had mentioned the case would be up for argument in the next few days.

  “Hey!” I called through the whipping wind and raindrops beating the pavement. “Everything okay?”

  Harry nodded, beaming. He was here with good news. Joy expanded in my chest, and as usual my body moved ahead of my brain. I pulled him into my arms, the wet fabric of his suit immediately soaking my shirt.

  “We won?” I spoke into his hair.

  Harry rocked back to look up at me but didn’t pull out of my embrace. “Yes!” His grin was so boyish I had to smile too. “I was at the circuit court in Albany all day yesterday. The judges upheld the DEC’s original challenge. The pipeline won’t be built.” The words rushed out of him. Breathless and flushed, he looked so damn cute I couldn’t keep myself from tugging him a fraction closer.

  “You know phones exist, right?”

  Scoffing, he shoved my shoulder. “This is a huge deal! I got on the first train over this morning to deliver the news in person. But I realized you guys don’t open the office until nine so, yeah. I was excited! Sue me.”

  “Was that a lawyer joke?” I teased, and he raised a shoulder playfully. Then he relaxed, his arms wrapping around my waist as he sagged against me. I knew I shouldn’t push my luck, shouldn’t do anything but increase the distance between us. But I found my hand going automatically to the back of his neck, fingers trailing up the taut skin, drifting to stroke through the silky dark strands of his hair. It felt right, holding his slim body in my arms, listening as his breathing slowed, feeling the warmth of his chest against mine. Now that the case was closed and our relationship was no longer professional, maybe this could work between us. But eight months was a long time to wait. I had no idea if Harry was interested after all this time. The rain continued to drive down around us in silvery gusts. I knew any minute Sheila would pull up, soon to be followed by the rest of the staff, but I never wanted this to end.

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, bending my knees a little to meet his gaze. His eyes, the warm brown shot through with gold, widened. The air between us seemed to thick
en and his breath was a soft brush against my face as he moved almost imperceptibly closer. Relief and need coursed together through my veins.

  But the sound of a car door slamming behind us had Harry launching himself away from me so hard he almost knocked me on my ass. I went on autopilot, digging in my pocket for my keys and unlocking the office. I watched Harry out of the corner of my eye, straightening his tie, smoothing his damp hair.

  “Did the ruling come through?” Sheila jogged over to us, looking tense.

  “Yes!” Harry was practically bouncing with excitement as the three of us walked into the dark reception area. “We did it! I was just telling Mr. Novak that the court denied the pipeline. The judges stated that the gas companies failed to address the potential water impacts. Here, I have the certification denial on my iPad.”

  Sheila punched the air and the two of them started excitedly talking over each other about notifying the other members of the coalition, issuing a press release, and responding to media inquiries. I’ll admit that even though I was unbelievably thrilled by the outcome, I sulked like a goth teenager at a high school football game. With nothing else to do, I wandered down to my office and called Tara to tell her the good news.

  “Hey!” Sheila poked her head in through my barely open door a half hour and half dozen celebratory phone calls later. She was still beaming like she’d won the lottery. And for Sheila, there was no denying the blockage of the pipeline was a way bigger deal than any Powerball jackpot. “Maya had an awesome idea.”

  I bit back my groan. Our upbeat office manager’s ideas usually involved lots of beer and socializing.

  Sheila raised a single eyebrow before continuing. “She thought we should have a party next weekend to celebrate. I was thinking we could rent out the Coyote Café and invite everyone from the coalition, you know? We’ve all busted our asses on this. Especially Harry. He liked the idea too. Even said he’d bring someone.”

  Suddenly the potted spider plant on my desk was in desperate need of attention and I set to work picking off dead leaves. The kid had a boyfriend? Well, who could blame him for moving on? It’d been one kiss eight months ago. But that left me with no clue what the whole parking lot cuddle session this morning had been all about. Because the frisson of hot energy between us had totally been mutual.

  “So, Mr. Novak…” Sheila looked far too pleased with herself. “I noticed you and our attorney looked pretty, uh, close when I got here.”

  I returned my attention to the plant. No way was I taking the bait. Especially if I had to see the kid again with some hot Manhattan boyfriend on his arm. The mere thought of it had jealousy clawing at my gut. Plus, the last thing I needed was for Harry to overhear me gossiping about him with my damn boss.

  It was like Sheila could read my mind. “Don’t worry. He left a few minutes ago. Said he had to head back into the city to draft the press release and finalize some paperwork. Seriously though, did something happen between you two? I thought I sensed a vibe.” She gestured to the air as if my stupid crush on our lawyer were visible.

  “Nothing happened.” There was a raw edge to my voice. And nothing ever would.

  5

  Harry

  “Just so you know, I hate you.” I shot Ella the angriest look I could muster. Apparently my attempts at rage only served to amuse my friend because she giggled.

  “Just so you know, I have an actual mountain of briefs to write. I can’t just gallivant off to…wait, where is this party again?”

  “Woodstock. Some place called the Coyote Café. It looks really nice. Are you sure you can’t come? There will be free food and lots of wine.” I switched tactics from anger to outright bribery and pleading. “You can work on the train. Please?”

  “Honey, we both know you only want me there as a buffer, so you don’t have to face the hot mountain man.”

  “No, I want you to celebrate my big success with me. This was my first time presenting an oral argument before a court of appeals. And I won!” Perhaps guilt would convince her to come.

  But Ella just rolled her eyes. She and I both knew I was half lying. As much as I loved my friend, I really did want Ella there to save me from myself, since I’d once again proven I was wholly unable of control around Max. If almost kissing the guy in front of his boss outside of his place of work while delivering a verdict wasn’t crossing a line, I didn’t know what was.

  A few hours later I found myself hopelessly sans Ella, scrunched into a window seat on the Empire line lurching along the Hudson. The river glittered in the waning sunlight, occasionally blocked by stands of newly green trees. The shift from urban to rural should have soothed me. But as the train approached my destination, my palms grew clammier and my pulse raced faster. The car was relatively empty and weirdly silent for a Saturday evening, meaning I was left with only my churning thoughts.

  Technically, I was no longer the coalition’s legal representative. So if I wanted to kiss Max, I could. Well, if I were being honest with myself, I wanted do a hell of a lot more than kiss him. Despite the removal of any professional barriers keeping us apart, the guy still made me nervous as fuck. I’d been so dedicated to my career since graduating from law school that I’d barely had the desire to download Grindr, much less put myself through the stress and awkwardness of actually trying to date or hook up. So, the thought of navigating that whole mess when I truly felt a connection was legitimately terrifying. Although I barely knew Max, I feared I had too much to lose. It made my stomach hurt to think about investing so much emotional energy in a man only to have him inevitably toss me aside upon realizing I was a career-obsessed ball of worry. Relationships never worked for me, and really there was no reason to think this one would be any different. The prospect was too distressing to consider.

  Okay, and Max was so hot he felt kind of out of my league. Reasonably, I knew that my definitions of physical attractiveness and my own anxieties about my runty appearance were a crock of normative masculine bullshit. But reason didn’t soothe when I stood in front of the bathroom mirror cursing myself for letting stress destroy my appetite and allowing my overpriced gym membership go to complete waste.

  Sighing, I leaned my forehead against the window. My social anxiety meant I’d never done well with parties. In undergrad, I’d pounded shots and guzzled beers at far too many pregames to loosen the tight knot that twisted and swelled in my chest before interacting with other people. But in law school, I’d started to get a handle on it. Instead of getting sloppy and blacking out, I’d given myself little breathers when the press of bodies overwhelmed me or I started to angrily doubt every word I said in a conversation. I could do the same tonight. Just because I had a crush on Max, didn’t mean I needed to backslide into a near panic attack at the thought of prolonged socializing in his proximity. As the train rolled into the Rhinecliff station, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I would be fine.

  The party was wonderful. The Coyote Café, a small red cottage tucked alongside a rushing creek, was almost too adorable to be real. On the patio overlooking the water, groups of people sipped drinks and chatted beneath strands of café lights. The turnout was bigger than I’d anticipated, and I had to suppress my dueling desires to navigate directly to the bar and to start scanning the faces for Max’s intense eyes and stubbled jaw. He was so tall, though, it only took me about five seconds to spot him in the crowd. He was nodding as Tara and Sheila gestured animatedly. Thankful his back was to me, I thought I could slink over into a corner and give myself a minute to calm down. But Sheila spied me and waved me over.

  Immediately, Tara engulfed me into a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she squealed, squeezing me even tighter.

  I shook my head and laughed. “Thank you! I just took care of the paperwork. The information you all brought to the case was instrumental in upholding the decision.”

  “He’s too modest, isn’t he?” My heart stilled at the sound of Lidia Miller’s voice. I’d invited EcoJustice’s managi
ng attorney to the celebration as a courtesy, but I hadn’t imagined she would have the time to come.

  “Right?” Sheila grinned at me. I’d worked closely with her in drafting the intervention, and honestly, I would miss her sharp wit and boundless knowledge of construction logistics and feasibility studies. “Harry acts like he wasn’t sending me emails at three in the morning twice a week for the last few months.”

  “Really, we couldn’t have done with without you, Harry. You knew from day one we could win this thing, and you were right.” Max’s voice was a balm on my heated skin. I could feel his gaze on me as I stared at my shoes.

  I thought I was going to burst into actual flames of embarrassment as Sheila proposed a toast and asked me to say a few words. I was able to snap into professional mode long enough to thank individuals from the coalition and string together a few coherent thoughts about the state standing up to protect resources and defend tribal land. Someone pressed a glass of wine into my hand, and I downed it like a shot. By the time the speeches and toasts were over, I was woozy and in desperate need of a moment to decompress.

  The sound of the water rushing over smooth river rocks calmed me as I eased myself onto a conveniently placed stump a short distance from the restaurant. A folk trio started playing, and the music and peals of laughter drifted on the evening breeze. That hot coil of anxiety in my chest started to unwind. Footsteps crunching gravel behind me startled me out of my calm-down mantra of mentally repeating you’re fine.

 

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