“Not yet,” he admits, looking down at his cart. “I was hoping to grab a few things and make something simple.”
“Can you cook?”
“I try,” he replies with a deep chuckle. “I can make manly food.”
My eyes widen. “I didn’t know food was gender-specific. Are you a food sexist, Jaxon?”
He laughs, then cringes. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. I just meant I live off a diet of steak and potatoes, and if I’m eating healthy, chicken and broccoli. And eggs. Lots of eggs.”
“So you can fry, grill, and boil,” I surmise, rolling my eyes. “So, can women eat those foods, or no?”
He smirks, shaking his head in amusement. “Feeling sassy tonight, hey?”
“Something like that, but you walked into that one.” I sigh and glare up at him. “Manly food.”
“How long are you going to hold this against me? It was terrible word choice.”
“You’re a lawyer, you aren’t allowed to use terrible word choice as an excuse,” I point out, lifting my chin up.
“I’m off duty,” he says, nodding toward checkout. “Come on, do you want to get a coffee or something?”
I hold up the jar in my hand. “I can always make us some?”
He hesitates for a moment, but then nods. “Lead the way, Scarlett.”
chapter 9
Jaxon
I’M IN HER HOUSE.
In.
Her.
House.
What the fuck am I doing?
This is not professional at all, and it’s a stupid move to blur the lines of our relationship. Sure, there’s no rule against us being friends, but anything more is a conflict of interest. We shouldn’t even be friends.
Why am I not treating her like I would any of my other clients? If I ran into them at the store, I’d say hello, ask them how they are, and move on. I wouldn’t linger and chat with them, joke with them, and then follow them back to their house for coffee. I have no idea what I’m doing.
She places a giant mug of black coffee in front of me, and it smells so good, or maybe that’s her.
Fuck.
“Thank you,” I say, bringing it toward me by the handle. “Your house is beautiful.”
It’s spacious and decorated in mainly white and nude colors, with a splash of color here and there. It has a warm, welcoming feeling to it.
“Thanks,” she says, smiling and sitting down opposite me. “I’ve been redecorating ever since I got back. I like the country feel it gives now.”
It’s simple. Classy. Elegant.
Just like her.
There’s a picture of what must be her and her aunt on the fridge, and I look at it and smile. They’re both on the beach, and Scarlett is wearing a wide-brim hat and a smile.
“Any updates on the Valentina thing?” she asks me.
“I keep trying to speak to her, but it’s not going so well,” I explain, shaking my head. “But don’t worry, it just means I’m going to have to go through a more official route and speak to her with her lawyer present.” I pause. “If they ever decide to call me back.”
“And if they don’t?” she asks, amusement passing through her eyes. “Stake out in front of the MC clubhouse and stalk her until they either give in or try to do something to you?”
“If I have to,” I say simply. Not like I haven’t done much worse than that in my time. I don’t like to lose a case, especially when I know my client is innocent. It’s my job to do whatever I need to, and I take my job very seriously. I didn’t get a good reputation by always playing by the rules, or by sitting around and waiting for good things to happen. I go out there and make it happen. I use my contacts, I ask for help when needed, call in favors, I do anything in my power to get what I want. And most of the time it’s legal.
Scarlett looks troubled all of a sudden, her brow furrowed and her lips twisted. “That can’t be safe though, can it? I mean they are a motorcycle club after all.”
I’m trying to save her from prison time, and she’s worried about me doing something she’s paying me to do?
Fuck, she’s cute.
I can tell she’s a person who genuinely cares about people before herself, which makes me want to dig Darren up and kill him all over again. People like her are rare in today’s world and should be protected. We need more beauty in the world like hers, but unfortunately most people damage it instead. Ruin it. It makes me angry just thinking about it.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” I say gently, taking a sip of coffee.
“Can I make you something to eat? I know you haven’t had dinner yet, and it wouldn’t be a problem to make something,” she says, looking down as if she’s feeling a little nervous, shielding those eyes from me. Her eyes give so much away, and it’s as if she’s aware of that, which is why she’s always ducking her head.
“That’s okay,” I say quickly, not wanting to offend her. I feel like her cooking for me is crossing even more boundaries, and I don’t want to do that, even though I’m starving. It’s nice to have her offer though. “I’d better get home. I have the groceries in my car that I need to put away, and biker old ladies to stalk tomorrow,” I say, trying to keep things light.
She grins at that, and a dimple pops up on the right cheek. “At least finish your coffee first.”
She puts some cake on the table, slyly slipping it my way. “I made this today.”
“You keep busy, don’t you?”
She shrugs and sits back down. “I used to work in a library, and then a bookstore. When I went overseas I didn’t work because I was looking after my aunt, but now that I’m back, I don’t know what to do with myself. There’s no point getting a job until this whole ordeal is over, but I’m not used to sitting around all day. So I’ve started baking and cooking new recipes. Started gardening. It keeps my mind busy too. I don’t want to overthink right now, it only makes things worse. I’ve also started doing some volunteer work. I like helping people.”
Right.
She’s on fucking bail. I almost forgot. For a moment, it felt like two people hanging out, just enjoying each other’s company. She’s easy to be around, and when there is silence between us, it’s comfortable.
What the fuck I’m doing here? I shouldn’t be forgetting how we met and why we’re here. It’s not to hang out and have coffee. I should regret coming here, but I don’t. I like being around her.
She looks down at the cake. “It’s good.”
My lip twitches as I reach over and take a piece. As the lemon flavor hits my tongue, I have to agree. “It’s delicious.”
She beams, so happy over such a small compliment. I guess she didn’t hear them a lot when she was with her ex. It makes me want to compliment her until she’s no longer foreign to hearing them. “Best cake I’ve had in a long time.”
Probably the only cake I’ve had in months because I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I think the last time I had cake was at someone’s wedding earlier this year. And I mean it: hers is better.
“Thank you,” she says, ducking her face, and she smiles wide. “I don’t know about all that, but I’m glad that you like it.”
When she looks back up, our eyes hold, and something passes between us. Something I’m going to pretend didn’t happen. Nope, I definitely didn’t see that in her eyes, and she better not have seen it in mine. We have a professional relationship, and there is no room for attraction. We need to bury that shit right now.
I clear my throat and stand. “I should go home, it’s late. Thank you for the coffee and cake.”
“Okay. Thanks for the company,” she says, standing and walking with me to the door.
Fuck.
She thanked me for my fucking company. She’s obviously alone and doesn’t have anyone to talk to or hang out with. I have my work colleagues, and I
can always call my parents for a chat. Hell, if I really wanted, I have a few friends I could call and they’d be there. It seems like she has only her aunt, who is overseas. She hasn’t mentioned any other family. I almost don’t want to leave her alone here. I don’t like the thought of it. That reminds me.
“I forgot to tell you. A man named Joshua will be here tomorrow at ten a.m. to check on the house security. Do you want me to be here so you’re not alone in the house while he’s here?”
I don’t know where that offer came from. I said it before my own brain could even wrap around it.
“I’d like that,” she replies, looking genuinely thankful. She reaches out and touches my arm. “Thank you, Jaxon. For everything. I know you don’t have to do all these things for me.”
I want to tell her someone like her should know kindness. Should expect it. I want to tell her that if she ever needs anything, I’m only a call away. Instead, instinct brings me close to her, and my lips place a gentle kiss on her forehead. She doesn’t flinch. “Lock up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I leave, making sure the door is closed before I get in the car and drive home.
What the fuck am I doing?
chapter 10
Scarlett
JAXON ARRIVES BEFORE JOSHUA does, and I’m grateful to have him in the house while a random man walks around it. I made some ham-and-cheese croissants for both of them, along with a fruit platter, just in case they got hungry.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Jaxon says, as Joshua helps himself.
“It’s no problem,” I say quickly, appreciating having someone to actually cook for. Jaxon takes one, and I like watching him enjoy eating it. Is that weird? Probably.
“The place is pretty secure,” Joshua tells Jaxon. I don’t know why he tells him and not me, but I stand next to Jaxon and listen anyway. “Just a few windows I’d put new locks on, and remember to change the password regularly on the system.”
“When can you do the locks?” Jaxon asks. He’s in all black , pants and a T-shirt. He looks more casual than usual and I wonder if it’s because he’s going to try to talk with Valentina again I really hope she’ll help us.
“I can do them today, I just need to head to the store and grab a few things,” Joshua says, then looks to me. “Will you be home? I can be back here in an hour.”
I nod. “Yes, I’ll be here.”
“Perfect,” Jaxon says. “Just send the invoice to my office.”
“You can just give it to me,” I tell Joshua, wondering why Jaxon would want it sent to his office when I’ll be right here as he does the job.
Joshua smirks and leaves, getting into his truck and driving off.
“Will you be okay with him, now that you’ve met him and know what he looks like?” he asks me, scanning my face. “I can stay if you like, but he’s a good guy. You can feel safe around him.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, smiling gently. “Thanks for being here.”
“No problem, call me if you need anything,” he says, then flashes me a smile and leaves.
I’m not going to lie, I check out his ass. It’s a good one—tight, round, and totally grabable.
Except then he turns around and catches me looking.
Crap.
I awkwardly wave, grimacing as he smirks and slides into his car.
“JAXON IS TAKING CARE of the bill,” Joshua states, refusing me as I bring my purse out.
“What do you mean?” I ask, wrinkling my nose, and shifting on my feet. I open my purse and grab my checkbook. “Don’t be silly. Please, let me know how much it will be.”
“It’s taken care of, sweetheart,” he says, smiling and walking out the front door.
I’m still standing in the open doorway in confusion when my phone rings. I don’t even check who the caller is. “Hello?”
“Scarlett,” comes the smooth tone on the other end. “Did everything go okay?”
Jaxon.
Just the man I need to have a word with.
“Yeah, besides the fact he didn’t let me pay,” I say, closing my front door and locking it. “Any idea why that is?”
Jaxon ignores my comment and says, “Good. I have some news.”
“You spoke to Valentina?” I surmise, moving to sit on my couch. “And are you going to ignore everything else I just said?”
He hesitates, and then says, “Yes to the latter, and not exactly to the former. Valentina doesn’t want to talk, and the MC is making it impossible to reach her without going through all of them first.”
“Then what?” I ask, wondering why he’s calling if nothing has transpired.
“I came up with a plan B.”
“You going to tell me what this plan B is?” I ask, eyebrows rising. “Or are you going to leave me in suspense?”
I don’t know when the two of us became partners in crime, but I like it. I like knowing what’s going on, and being a part of the decisions. I trust Jaxon and the choices he makes, he knows what he’s doing after all, but he didn’t have to call me and update me. The fact that he treats me like an equal, not a criminal, means more to me than he will ever know.
“I’ll tell you, but it has to be in person. Come to my office tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there,” I tell him.
Not like I have anything better to do.
EVER SINCE I LEFT Darren, I’ve tried to hide who I am, to be invisible. I’ve dressed in loose-fitting clothes, and at the start I even stopped wearing makeup or putting any effort at all into my looks. I never wanted people to notice me. I didn’t want any attention. I learned that blending into the background was safe, and even after I left Darren that kind of stuck with me.
After more than two years now I’ve finally started becoming who I was meant to be. A woman who makes her own decisions, an independent woman. One who controls her own destiny. Today, though, is the first time I’ve worn a fitted dress in a very long time. It’s black and ends just below the knee, but it shows off my chest and slim waist. I don’t question why I’ve put it on today, but I feel good in it. My hair is down and has a slight wave to it. I haven’t put much makeup on, just some powder and a little blush on my cheeks. I’m learning to love who I am, and accept myself, flaws and all. Before, I used to think about my flaws. But I’m proud of myself, I really am.
It would really be hell if I was sent to prison, just when I’m getting my first taste at freedom, at what life can truly be. Deep inside, I know somehow justice will prevail and I’ll be acquitted. I’m holding on to that, and that’s what is getting me through, and why I’m not freaking out as much as I could be right now. I’m slowly becoming stronger, more outgoing, and coming out of my shell, and it’s an indescribable feeling. I’m like a butterfly, just breaking free from its cocoon. One that happened to be stuck in there longer than others.
“Is Mr. Bentley in?” I ask the woman at the desk as I walk in, my car keys still in the palm of my hand.
She lifts her head and smiles. She has platinum-blond hair, but her eyes are dark and mysterious. “He is. What was your name, ma’am?”
“Scarlett Reyes,” I say, listening as she picks up the phone to call Jaxon.
“I have a Scarlett Reyes here for you at the front desk,” she says into the line. “Okay, no worries.” She hangs up and says, “He said to go straight in.”
“Thanks.”
I walk toward his office and am about to knock when the door opens. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I say, flashing him an easy smile.
He’s in a blue shirt today, another one that’s rolled up at the elbows. I don’t know what it is about that that makes him so much sexier. He shuts the door while I take a seat.
“What are you up to today?” he asks, claiming his own chair and studying me. “You look . . . nice.”
I smile at the c
ompliment, which turns into a smirk when I catch him staring, as if he’s unable to look away. “I thought I’d donate some of Darren’s money and belongings to a charity today, and then I’ll probably go home and finish the garden. I want to turn it into a nice outdoor area where I can read and hang out. My own little space.”
Anything to keep me busy. It’s sad that this is what my life has become, one huge distraction to get me through, and that I have to spend the day dealing with Darren’s things. However, if a charity can benefit from it, if I can do a little good in the world, at least that’s something.
“That sounds nice,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “You could put some furniture out there, or maybe one of those seat swings.”
“That’s the plan. What news do you have to tell me?” I ask, getting to the point.
“Right,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I pulled a favor and I have something in the works for your case. I’m going to need a few days, so I don’t want you to worry or think that nothing is happening, okay? Try not to stress, I know it’s hard, but as soon as I find out any information, I’ll give you a call, okay?”
“You wanted me to come all the way here to tell me that?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“No,” he says, sliding me over a file. “I actually need you to read and sign these. As you know, our family-law attorney, Hunter, has been working on your case as well. We need you to sign these to move probate along.”
“Oh. Do you want me to do it now, or can I take it home and bring it back?” I ask, wanting time to read through it all.
“You can take it with you.”
“Anything else?”
“Just one more thing.”
He grins, a smug look plastered on his face. I don’t know why he looks smug, until he reaches down and pulls out a bouquet of beautiful white flowers.
Seducing the Defendant Page 6
