by Juliette Poe
Then things got a little exciting. Miss Rothschild’s voice got shrill when she said, “Judge Bowe, I am vehemently opposed to this. I do not want that hoodlum back on my property.”
Before Judge Bowe could reply, Lowe leaned forward to look at Miss Rothschild on the other side of me as he said angrily, “And I don’t want to do work for a vapid, self-centered Yankee intent on destroying my family’s home.”
My hand clapped down hard on Lowe’s shoulder, and even though he was just as big as his brother, I forced him down into the chair beside me murmuring in a low voice, “You need to shut the hell up.”
By this time, Judge Bowe was banging on his gavel. He swept a stern look across the room before he said, “My order stands. If you don’t do the work, Mr. Mancinkus, you can enjoy the hospitality of our jail. And Miss Rothschild, don’t ever step foot in my court again and demand anything of me. Or you can join Mr. Mancinkus in jail.”
I had to admit… this was the absolute most fun I’d had in court in well… years. I almost turned to Trixie and asked if she had any other cases I could handle.
The excitement of the courtroom antics quickly faded once we left. Trixie laid into her brother on the courthouse steps for his stupidity, which ensued a name-calling contest between them.
“You’re a spoiled, ignorant brat,” she spat at him.
“You’re a self-righteous coward,” he’d yelled back.
I’d stepped in between them, putting a gentle hand on Trixie’s shoulders and giving it a squeeze, a silent plea for her to be quiet. She miraculously shut her mouth.
Lowe just glared at her and stomped away.
Turning to Trixie, I’d impulsively claimed, “I’m not going back to Boston. But I need some more clothes, so can you take me shopping?”
Because really, what choice did I have when she suggestively told me moments ago that “she really owed me” for helping her brother out? Besides, it would be easy enough to have my colleagues in the firm cover my cases for a few days. Truthfully, it would behoove me to stay here and work on the Ogletree mediation for the next week, wouldn’t it?
Wouldn’t it?
Because what did she mean when she said she “owed” me? A handshake? A clap on the back? Kiss on the cheek? Kiss with tongue? Sex?
And what the hell would that even lead to?
Just sex?
More sex?
Another stab at a relationship?
Marriage?
Kids? White picket fences? Fishing on early mornings and Catherine’s sausage gravy on the weekends?
My thoughts are interrupted by the salesclerk handing me two huge bags of the clothes I’d just purchased and smiling at me brightly, “Thank you and have a great day.”
I grab the bags with one hand and my other goes to my neck where I rub at the muscles tightening with anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea to even consider, but what’s done is done.
Trixie and I leave the department store with my purchases, and she suggests a late lunch. I agree, and we make a short stop at her car to put my bags in before we hit P.F. Chang’s, which is just a few doors down.
Over lettuce wraps, I let her vent more about her brother but I only let this go on during the appetizer. Once our entrees arrive, I insist we change the subject. She’s not calming down, only getting more worked up, and diversion has always worked best with Trixie.
“Raleigh seems to be a nice town,” I say conversationally in an effort to get her relaxed.
She rolls her eyes at me because as much as I know how to “handle” her when her temper is spiked, she recognizes the fact that I am indeed handling her. Apparently, she finds it adorable. She cuts a piece of her orange chicken and gives in to my attempt to switch the conversation. “It really is. It’s spread out so you don’t have that overwhelming big-city feel, but you have all the luxuries a big city affords like museums, professional sports, fine dining, etcetera.”
“Overwhelming is an interesting choice of words,” I observe. “You didn’t feel that way in Boston, did you?”
I’m surprised when her cheeks turn a bit red. Her voice is reluctant when she admits, “Yeah… it was a bit too much for me.”
My mouth hangs open as I stare at her. How could I not know that? We had made plans to live in Boston, and there was a time when she was completely on board.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “I know what you’re thinking… Why would I have even considered all those plans we’d made if I felt that way?”
“Got to admit… this is a bit surprising to hear.”
Trixie puts her fork down and levels her gaze on me. “Ry… I loved you. And I loved Cambridge. It was small and well… comfortable. It wasn’t small like Whynot, but it reminded me of home a bit. But honestly, I was only considering staying there in Boston because of you. I didn’t like it at all. Too many people. Too much concrete and glass. Too much noise. It’s just not me.”
“You should have said something a lot earlier than you did,” I reprimand her quietly. I can’t help feeling a bit angry over this revelation, because who knows what would have happened had we had some honest discussions about where we wanted to go that could suit both of us.
“Would it have changed anything?” she asks me bluntly. “You were set on Boston. You wanted that job at Hayes Lockamy. You worked your ass off at Harvard and the clerkships to get that job offer. It was everything to you.”
“It wasn’t everything,” I tell her sharply.
“Maybe not,” she retorts. “But it clearly meant more than me. As I recall, I asked you to come to Whynot to practice, and I got a resounding ‘no’ to that offer.”
“You sprung that on me at literally the last minute, Trixie,” I say angrily. “After I’d accepted the job offer at Hayes Lockamy. You didn’t give me any time to process any of it.”
“And you didn’t bother to try to talk me into staying,” she snaps.
“Seriously, Trix,” I say in exasperation. “I’ve been here two days, and I’ve watched you in your element. You were born to live here. This is where you’re supposed to be. Being a small-town lawyer in Whynot surrounded by your close-knit, if not nutty, family is what brings you joy. Are you seriously trying to infer that you would have left all of this to stay in Boston with me if I’d just tried to talk you into staying?”
“No, what I’m saying,” she sneers at me as she leans across the table but I don’t miss the light sheen of tears in her eyes, “is that you and I clearly weren’t meant to be, and we’re both better off for making the choices we did.”
Now that hits me hard, right in the middle of my chest, and I have to resist the urge to rub my knuckles over my breastbone to ease the pain.
Trixie merely pushes up from her chair, grabs her purse, and practically runs out of the restaurant.
“Shit,” I mutter as I stand up. I grab my wallet, take out enough money to cover the meal and tip, and toss it down on the table.
I jet out of the restaurant, scan the area, and see Trixie walking quickly toward her car. I wouldn’t put it past her to jump in it and drive off without me, so I break into a fast trot to catch up with her. My hand latches onto her elbow just as she reaches her car, and I spin her to face me.
“What the hell, Trix?” I ask her with frustration, anger, and a little bit of self-loathing that I let the conversation get so out of hand. I’ve always been the mild-mannered one between the two of us, knowing how to deftly control and sidestep her temper so it doesn’t get the better of her.
Or me.
I brace, expect her to rail and rant some more. Instead, she launches herself right at me, making a tiny hop to throw her arms around my neck. Her mouth comes to mine hard as one of her hands grips into my hair, fisting it tight.
Jesus Christ… stars wink in my vision at the feel of her mouth on mine, so long forgotten and yet completely familiar all at once. I don’t think—just act. My arms band around her tight, hauling her body to mine. I push her back into the side of her car, t
ilt my head, and I kiss her back with every bit of longing and regret that she seems to be mutually feeling in this moment.
When her tongue reaches out, touches against mine boldly, I press further into her. Shit… if we weren’t in public, I’d open the back door and push her right down into that seat.
Trixie moans… and, if it’s possible, it’s with a sweet, southern twang. It tastes so damn good to me. My hands come up to frame her face, and I make sure there’s no room for her to escape. I pour eleven years of missing her, and wishing every other woman I have been with was her, right into her mouth.
I’d probably go on kissing her if it weren’t for a chorus of giggles that penetrate my fogged brain, and I open my eyes slightly to see a pack of four girls, probably not more than twelve or thirteen, watching us.
Reluctantly, I pull back.
Trixie makes a sound of torment that punches down through to my groin as her hand tightens in my hair. I reach a hand back, tug at her fingers to loosen them up, and free my mouth from hers.
“Got an audience, Trix,” I murmur.
A small whimper puffs out of her mouth and breezes over mine, but then she pulls her head back to look at me. Her eyes are troubled… filled with lust and fear and excitement all at once.
“Not going to apologize for that,” she whispers fiercely.
“Don’t want you to,” I tell her honestly, my other hand that’s still at her face sweeping a thumb against her cheek.
She smiles at me with a hint of mischief, and then gives me a small push against my chest. “Get in the car.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, really wanting nothing more than to pull her back in my arms and make out with her in front of the young girls ogling us.
Totally perverted thought.
“To the closest hotel,” she says breathlessly, giving another shove to my chest.
My perverted thoughts get dirtier as I release her and bolt for the passenger side of the car.
CHAPTER 9
Trixie
If I thought the passion would cool in the five minutes it takes me to drive us to the Marriott that sits across from the mall on Glenwood Avenue, I would have been sorely mistaken. I pull up to the valet service, but before I can open my door, Ry pulls me halfway across the seat for a searing kiss. He only reluctantly lets me go when the valet opens my door.
I scramble out, and Ry does the same on the other side.
“Any luggage?” the valet, a young guy who looks about eighteen, asks.
“Nope,” I say as I brush past him and watch as his face goes beet red at the implication.
Ry leads the way in, his hand holding mine tightly. He walks up to the check-in desk and confidently asks for a room.
“Do you have a reservation?” the woman asks brightly.
“We don’t,” he says with a smirk, his hand releasing mine and coming to rest on my lower back in an intimate, possessive touch. “This was sort of spur of the moment.”
The woman’s face also goes beet red.
Mine also flushes but not from embarrassment. It’s pure excitement as Ry’s thumb sweeps up and down my lower spine with promise.
When we’re checked in and handed the key card, I have to contain myself not to run to the elevator. Doesn’t stop Ry from dragging me quickly there. When we’re enclosed inside and he’s pushed the button for the fifth floor, I half expect him to attack me, and more than one-hundred percent wish he would. Instead, he steps backward and rests against the opposite wall, looking at me with some serious intent.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, tone matter of fact. “So I expect our mouths and hands will be plenty busy today.”
A delicious shiver runs up my spine. Ry has the most lovely, imaginative, forceful, and unrelenting mouth. And I personally love having him in mine. But I know damn well that’s not going to be enough for us. Not for the long run anyway.
Before I can even say anything, he says, “I know it’s been a long damn time with us, Trix, but I’m clean.”
“And I’ve always used a condom,” I assure him, because I’ve never had a relationship serious enough to even discuss moving sex to that level of intimacy.
Ry shakes his head, and my stomach curdles at the look on his face. “I haven’t.”
I let that sink in a moment before giving a nod of my head. “Leslie.”
“We were together for almost two years,” he says softly. “We got tested when we decided to do away with condoms. Both clean. And after I broke it off, I got tested again. I’m still clean, but you’d have to trust me on that.”
“Did she cheat on you?” I ask because of the implication he just made.
“I’m not sure,” he says candidly. “I suspected but couldn’t be certain. But it really ended for other reasons.”
“Like what?” I ask just as the elevator chimes to indicate we’ve reached our floor.
“Like it doesn’t matter right in this moment,” he says as he steps forward, grabs my hand, and pulls me off the elevator. The doors close behind us, and Ry brings a hand to my cheek. “But right now, you decide. We go purely oral, I run out and grab condoms, or we go bare.”
“Bare,” I say quickly. There’s no other choice for me really. I trust Ry implicitly. I expect he does the same for me since he said it was my choice.
And because Ry is the only man I’ve ever given my entire self to—heart, body, and soul—I want nothing less right now.
Ry’s other hand comes up, cups my face so gently, and his eyes go tender. “I never thought this would happen between us.”
“I’m not sure we should try to overanalyze this,” I tell him as I grab a hold of his belt and give it a pointed tug. “We’re lawyers. We’re liable to argue ourselves out of this.”
“This isn’t just sex, Trix,” he says earnestly, then gives me another hot and searing kiss that gets my blood racing again.
I smile at him when he pulls back. “It was never just about that between us.”
♦
Ry moves inside of me, his elbows pressed into the mattress at my ribs and his face hovering right over mine. There’s so much emotion in his eyes that seems to burn hotter and brighter the higher he drives us. My knees are pressed in tight against his hips, my fingertips digging down into his shoulders, and my heart skittering out of control. Not just because of the amazing physical sensations that are completely overwhelming me, but because I am connected to Ry Powers.
My first love.
My truest love.
The most precious thing I’ve ever lost and never thought I’d have again, even if only for a brief time.
“Don’t want this to end,” Ry murmurs as his forehead drops to rest against mine. He never stops moving though, hips still driving himself in deep.
“Me neither,” I gasp as I take all of him.
And I have to wonder—are we just talking about this very moment of mind-blowing sex that will culminate in shattering orgasms or are we talking about “us”?
What is it that we don’t want to end?
“Missed this,” Ry whispers as he moves faster. “Missed us.”
“Oh, God,” I moan, not only because of the increased pace, but also because his words touch me more than anything his magic pelvis could ever do.
“Did you miss this?” Ry demands, driving harder.
“Yes.” I can’t help but tell him the truth.
“And us?” He pushes at me as he thrusts deeper inside. “Did you miss us?”
“Yes, Ry,” I moan, my defenses completely shattered. “I missed you. And us.”
“Christ,” he mutters. “Now that’s going to make me come.”
These words. This emotion. The feeling. Going to make me come too. Really, really fast.
“Why did we let this go?” I gasp, my legs coming up to circle around his back and my nails digging into his skin.
Ry just growls, his face dropping to the side. He bares his teeth, bites my neck, and I explode magnificently. My body t
ightens for a brief moment before my back arches hard, and I cry out in complete abandon.
Ry slams in hard one last time and groans out his release into me. “God, Trixie… I missed this.”
I shudder over the regret in his tone, the tenderness in his voice. Ry collapses onto me, his arms snaking under me so he can squeeze me tight as his hips continue to work gently against me.
Immediately, a wave of gray sadness sweeps through me because of everything I’d lost. For years, I’d pushed it down so deep inside of me. I didn’t think it would escape. Yet, one beautiful moment with Ry releases it all. My eyes sting with unwanted tears, and I blink hard to keep them at bay. I don’t deserve to feel this way as I’d made my choice—bad, good, smart, or foolish—I really don’t know if fate served us with appropriate justice.
I’ve tried to be a woman who has lived her life without regret, despite the fact I’ve always questioned my decisions with regards to Ry. But I reasoned I got what I wanted and needed the most at that time in my life, which was my family and my hometown. But after eleven years of living what I felt was a magnificent existence, one magical moment with Ry has me questioning everything I thought I knew about myself.
CHAPTER 10
Ryland
My eyes bug out of my head as I walk into the dining room and see all the food set out on the long table. It shocks me so much I come to a dead halt, but Trixie’s hand on my lower back—which feels damn awesome by the way—pushes me forward. We just arrived to Gerry and Catherine’s home, which is where Pap’s birthday dinner is being held.
Trixie and I got a little caught up in the hotel this afternoon, going at it like sex-starved maniacs, and we sort of lost track of time. We managed quick showers before we hauled ass from Raleigh to Whynot and are literally sliding in the door at dinnertime. Everyone else is already seated around the table.
