He’d wanted to get away from town today, to forget everything from his conversation with Julia to the bar to his family and their expectations of him. The only person he wanted to spend time with was Lexi. She’d been avoiding him and he knew he should have left it at that.
Seeing her face down her fear today and come out on the other side of it more confident and proud had made him want her all the more.
If he could, he’d like to bottle up the light that radiated from her and save it for his darkest moments, like a perfect Scotch he could savor at his own pace.
It had killed him to watch both Zach and the younger man who’d helped them gear up flirt with Lexi, all the while knowing he had no right to stop it. She’d offered herself to him with no strings attached and Scott had been a fool to turn her down. Now the young guide, Matt, jogged up to Lexi. He leaned down to whisper something in her ear. She glanced back at Scott, then shook her head. Matt handed her a small piece of paper, grinning like an idiot until Zach shooed him away.
He watched Lexi tuck the paper into the back pocket of her jeans, looking over her shoulder and giving Scott a thumbs-up before turning away again.
Scott gritted his teeth. This friendship was going to be the death of him.
* * *
Lexi knocked on the door of Frank Davis’s law office for the third time. She knew someone was in there because she’d seen the blinds move after she’d first knocked.
Finally, the door opened, revealing the older attorney, his button-down shirt wrinkled and a spot of what looked like mustard staining his polka-dot tie. He’d lost weight since she’d last seen him, but not in a good way.
“Hi,” she said, holding out her hand. “You may not remember me but—”
“I remember you. You’re the little girl who made a fool out of me on the Julia Morgan case.”
Lexi stepped forward to prevent him from shutting the door in her face. “I’m sorry about my actions around the custody suit, but I think we can both agree that things worked out for the best in the end.”
“I had it under control,” he muttered.
“Like you do Nancy Capshaw’s divorce and Ida Garvey’s latest estate plan? Her will hadn’t been updated in almost ten years, Frank. She had no living trust, nothing to protect her family’s inheritance of her more recent investments.”
His round eyes widened even further. “Listen here, missy, don’t you go trying to steal my clients. You have no right. I could report you to the bar association for that.”
“I don’t want to steal any clients,” Lexi said. She glanced over his shoulder. “Could I come in for a few moments?”
“I’m busy right now.”
Lexi might not have been the most assertive person in the world, but she pretended she was working for her father once again. Her fear of failing in his eyes always made her more forceful when dealing with people who didn’t want to talk to her. Fear was a powerful motivator.
“I’ll be quick,” she said and easily slipped past him. She looked toward the receptionist’s desk in the small lobby, which looked as if it had been deserted for months. A sad houseplant sat on the windowsill behind the desk, leaves brown and shriveled. “Where’s your secretary?”
Frank let the door shut and turned to her. “She quit a while back. I don’t need her, anyway. Brevia doesn’t generate a lot of law business, not like it used to.”
“Really?” Lexi found that hard to believe. In the past two days, since her meeting with Ida Garvey, she’d had a half-dozen messages from locals wanting help on a variety of cases. “Is there another law office nearby?”
He scoffed. “Of course not. I’ve been the main attorney in these parts for over twenty years. I built my life in this town. I’ve worked on every major case this county has seen.” His finger jabbed into the air as if underscoring his importance. He looked around the office and sighed. “It isn’t like it used to be. A whippersnapper like you wouldn’t understand.”
She glanced toward the inner office and sucked in a breath at the stacks of manila files lining the walls. It appeared that Frank hadn’t put anything away since his secretary had left. “I understand your clients need an attorney who can keep up with their cases.” She stepped forward. “I could help if you want.”
His lips pressed into a grim line and she continued quickly, “I don’t mean take over. But I’m licensed to practice in North Carolina. I’ve got time during the day...before my shift starts.”
As she said the words, she realized how much she still wanted to work as an attorney. Yes, the bar was a fun diversion, something totally different than what she’d been doing. She was proving that she could take care of herself, and facing some of the demons left over from her childhood and what had happened to her mother.
But despite choosing to become a lawyer to please her father, in her heart she loved working with people and having the opportunity to help fix their problems. She’d lost sight of that in Ohio, when most of her work had been fighting for people who didn’t deserve her help. People unlike the ones she’d met here in Brevia.
She realized she felt at home here, and the feeling didn’t scare her. Even if it was for only a short time, she wanted to make a difference, pay it forward in her own way. Maybe that would give her some confidence for believing she could do the same thing once she returned to her own life.
“What do you think, Frank?”
“Are you crazy?” He slammed a fist into the wall, making her jump. “I see what you’re doing here! You think you’re the first young lawyer to walk into this office and pretend you want to help me?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“I don’t need your help. You think anyone in this town would ever trust you, with your background?”
“But you do need assistance.” She took a calming breath, trying not to let his words hurt her.
“So what if I’ve slowed down a bit? I can keep up. Maybe I like to play golf a little more than I used to. I get the work done. And I’m my own man. I built this practice from the ground up. I’m not someone’s puppet. I never did my daddy’s dirty work, digging out every tiny bit of nastiness about the people I was working against.”
“I didn’t—”
“You’re not the only one who can look into someone’s background, Ms. Preston.”
Lexi swallowed. “I did things I’m not proud of. I’m trying to make a better life here. I’m trying to start over, to learn from my mistakes.”
He walked to the door and held it open. “Then you’d better learn it someplace else. You’re not welcome here.”
She clenched her fists, both from frustration and embarrassment. Her intentions here had been so good.
“What am I supposed to do when someone comes to me for help? I won’t turn them away.”
“Run along home to daddy, Ms. Preston. You don’t belong here.”
“I... You... This isn’t...” Frank did nothing but stare at her, arms crossed over his chest.
Blinking back tears, Lexi fled from the office back into the street. She felt as if she were a young girl again, wanting nothing more than her father’s approval, but being continually denied no matter how hard she tried to please him. She knew her past wasn’t perfect, but wondered if she’d ever get to a point of being able to outrun it.
* * *
“What do you think of sweet-potato fries verses regular ones to go with the burger selection?”
Scott finished his inventory of bottles and turned. “Whatever you want, Jon. It’s your kitchen.”
Jon grinned at him. “We’ll be open for lunch on Monday.”
“Great. The sign guy is coming tomorrow to change the wording on the marquee to Riley’s Bar & Grill.” Scott picked up the stack of mail from the bar and began to leaf through it. “We need the bump in revenue to offset
all the cash I’m...” His voice trailed off as his eyes settled on a small white envelope.
“You okay, boss?” Joe took a step closer.
“Yeah, sure. I’m just thinking of when the new barstools are going to be delivered.”
He picked up the envelope, his fingers holding it so tight that one corner began to crumple. “Can you give a call to the food supplier and confirm we’ll need the fresh ingredients Monday morning? I don’t want anything to go wrong with the rollout.”
Jon studied him, but didn’t call Scott out on his quick mood change. “Got it. I better get to work.” He turned and hustled toward the kitchen.
Scott walked around the bar and sat on one of the high stools. He didn’t have to open the letter to know what it contained, but he did, anyway. The short memo indicated that he’d have an official review in D.C. at the end of the month. It was scheduled two days before the reception for Sam and their father. The timing couldn’t have been any worse, but Scott knew if he didn’t show for it that his career with the Marshals was over.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted his future to be, but he didn’t want the decision to be made for him. At the same time, he wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened.
As if on cue, the front door of the bar banged opened.
“This day stinks,” Lexi announced as she stalked through. Scott could almost see the smoke rising from her ears. “I try to help someone and he wants nothing to do with me. Totally ungrateful for my offer. It’s ridiculous.”
Scott wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or about someone else, but her words hit home. “Not everyone wants to be helped,” he muttered.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said, her big eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. She took in the letter in his hand and came forward. “What’s the matter? What happened?”
It bothered him more than he was willing to admit that she could read him so easily. “Nothing happened for you to worry about.” He folded the letter and tucked it into his shirt pocket. Scrubbing his hand across his face, he forced his mouth into a smile. “What’s got your cute panties in such a bunch?”
“You have no idea if my panties are cute or not.”
“We’re roommates.” He winked at her. “You left a basket of folded laundry in front of the TV last night. I especially like the little pink ones with bunches of cherries on them.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You shouldn’t look at my panties, folded or not.”
He’d like to do a lot more than look. He’d like to peel them from her hips and...
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, pointing a finger at him.
“Honey, if you knew what I was thinking, you’d run out that door right this minute.”
He loved the hint of pink that flushed across her cheeks. “Don’t distract me. What was that piece of paper you stuffed in your pocket?”
“You’re the one who came in here all hot and bothered.”
“I had an awful conversation with Frank Davis. He won’t admit he can’t keep up with his caseload or why. I offered to help and he was rude.”
“Offered to help? You want to practice law in Brevia?”
“Not forever. But I can ease some of his backlog. People are already coming to me. It’s strange that there are no other law firms in town. It’s like he’s hoarded all of the business for himself but can’t manage it anymore.” She shook her head. “You’re getting me off track again. Why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset,” Scott said, standing and turning back toward the bar.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her. “There’s a muscle pulsing at the base of your jaw. You’re mad as heck about something. Maybe I could help if you told me what it was.”
“I doubt it.” He glanced at his watch. “Besides, your shift doesn’t start for another hour. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m too worked up to go home. I came in to start on the plans for the reception. I need to burn off some energy.”
“I know how you can burn off some energy.”
She looked straight into his eyes. “I’ve already asked you for an affair. You said no.”
“What if I’ve changed my mind?” he said, reaching out and pulling her close.
“What’s in the letter?”
As fast as he’d drawn her to him, he pushed her away at those words. He walked from the bar to his small office, wishing for a way to burn off some of his own energy. As sunshine-sweet as she appeared, he knew Lexi could be worse than a dog with a bone. She wouldn’t give up until he told her something.
As he expected, she followed him back. “You can tell me,” she said quietly. “It’s okay to let me in.”
She was wrong. Scott wouldn’t let anyone in, not even Lexi. But he answered truthfully, “It’s a summons for a review from the Marshals office in D.C.”
“To review what?” She lifted one hip onto the corner of his desk, clearly making herself comfortable. “I thought you were on a leave of absence?”
“An administrative leave,” he clarified. “My partner died during a botched arrest. He was one of my few real friends at the agency. We’d gone through the academy at the same time.”
“I’m sorry, Scott.”
He hated sympathy. “It was my fault. Derek Sanchez was a good officer, a family man with a pretty wife and two small children waiting for him at home. The pressure of the job was bad enough, but trying to balance a normal life would take its toll on anyone.”
“What happened?”
“He put himself in the line of fire instead of waiting for backup. It was stupid, a rookie mistake. He knew better but...”
“But?”
“Derek had been drinking the night before. We’d been on a stakeout for days. Sitting around with nothing to do but think can drive you nuts, even in the field.”
“He was drinking on the job.”
“Technically, we had the night off. But it made him careless the next day.”
“How is that your fault?”
Scott shook his head, stopped in front of her. Suddenly, he needed to tell someone...to tell Lexi...the whole story. “I should have stopped him, but he’d been griping for weeks about how his wife was busting his chops, pressuring him to take a desk job with the agency. I knew he needed to blow off some steam, so I didn’t stop him.”
“He was a grown man,” she said softly. “You weren’t his babysitter.”
“I should have been his friend. I knew Derek had been drinking more than usual in the months before he died, but I wasn’t much of a role model. I was trying to protect him, but as usual my methods left a lot to be desired. I fell asleep and left him alone. He drank a lot more than I’d realized. When things went down the next morning, he was in no condition to handle it.”
“You think he was still drunk?”
“I sure as hell hope not, but I don’t know. I never said anything. If it came out that he was at fault, it could’ve messed up his life insurance and pension. His wife...she needs that money.”
Realization dawned in Lexi’s eyes. “So you walked away from your career rather than expose his issues.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Scott said, shaking his head. He balled his fists at his sides, the familiar frustration returning. “I let him down. Like I let everyone down.”
She straightened, and Scott expected her to reach for him, felt his whole body stiffen as he both feared and longed for her touch and the way it made him feel. She walked past him instead. He glanced over his shoulder, unable to help himself watch her walk away. Just like his mother had done to a seven-year-old boy who’d needed her more than she could handle.
Chapter Eight
But Lexi didn’t leave. Her hand reached out and turned the lock on his office door. She returned to him and took
his clenched hand in hers, trailing her fingers across his palm the same way he’d done to hers when she’d been frightened of zip-lining. His awareness of her almost overwhelmed him.
“Have you changed your mind, Scott?” she asked softly, her eyes still on their intertwined fingers.
He shook his head, forcing himself to ignore his need for her. “I’m not going to tell them anything about Derek. Even if it means I’ll never work for the agency again.”
She looked up at him now and her eyes held none of the judgment he expected to see there. “I meant about my offer.”
He sucked in a breath and jerked back his hand, but she held tight.
“Do you,” she asked, lifting his arm to place a whisper-light kiss on the inside of his wrist, “want to be with me?”
He nearly groaned. “It’s not about what I want,” he said with a ragged breath. “It’s about what’s good for you. I’m trying to protect you, Lexi.”
“I don’t need you to protect me.” She stepped closer, taking his other hand in hers, then running her fingers up his arms until they curved around his neck. “I want you, Scott.”
He knew he should walk away, but for the life of him, he couldn’t move a muscle. “Don’t do this,” he whispered.
“What?” Her smile belied the innocence in her voice. She reached up and pressed her mouth to his. “Do you mean this?” Her body leaned against his as her scent wound through his mind, filling his head with the most amazing pictures of her moving underneath him. “Or this?” Her tongue traced the seam of his lips like an invitation.
He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t take any more of her sweet torture.
His arms tightened around her and he slanted his mouth over hers, taking control of the kiss. He felt her smile against him and melt into him even more, her desire stoking his until it was difficult to tell where he stopped and she began.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He ground out the words before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the couch pushed up against the far wall.
A Brevia Beginning Page 10
