by Dawson, Zoe
He cleared his throat and, cheeks heating, she jerked her gaze up to his. But not before making a permanent place in her memory for exactly what those jeans were covering.
“I’m not the one holding you up.”
She snorted and went inside. Callie was waiting for her.
“Hi, Brooke. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I think I’m the ‘nothing’s wrong’ she’s talking about. Drew Hudson,” he said, trotting out that devilish smile and offering his hand.
“The lawyer who’s handling that witch’s lawsuit?” Callie snipped, her eyes snapping. She pointedly ignored his outstretched hand and he drew it back to his side.
“What is he doing here?” Callie whispered once they sat down out of earshot.
“He says his sister’s here looking at flowers.”
“Highly unlikely.”
“There’s no way he could have known I would be here. So it has to be legitimate.”
“I don’t see his sister.”
“Maybe she’s in the back.”
Brooke couldn’t keep her eyes off him. And it wasn’t in that wary, he’s-my-enemy type of way either. She only wished it was. He looked different today. More relaxed than he had when he’d been trying to hustle her into settling out of court. Of course, he’d just had the seat of his pants ripped out by Roscoe, and had been standing in her apartment half naked. That part was hard to forget. If his upper half looked anything like his lower half, well, it would make it pretty hard to breathe. He was put together very nicely—for a bloodsucking lawyer.
His face softened when a stunning young woman came out with the florist. She hugged him and talked with animated gestures, eliciting a smile or two. Apparently she was thrilled with the choices the florist had to offer. Brooke was on the verge of giving into those soft, melting feelings. Sure, when he was being forceful he was a lot to handle, but his interaction with his sister showed a kind, committed, attentive brother. She wondered about his story. Why he was here instead of his mother?
She shook her head sharply. Wondering about him wasn’t a good idea in any scenario. He was the enemy and, as with any enemy, she had to be on her guard. If he had some kind of hidden agenda, it couldn’t be good for her in any way. He was on the opposing side.
“Brooke?”
“Sorry, I was distracted.”
“I see what is distracting you. Do you think it’s a good idea to ogle the man who is heading up the legal team that intends to sue you…how did Kristen put it…oh yes, for everything you’ve got.”
“He wants to settle out of court.”
“Right. For how much?”
“We didn’t get that far. I threw him, his half naked ass, and his pants out of my apartment.”
Callie raised her brows. “Half naked ass?”
Brooke described the whole scenario for her.
Callie laughed. “Serves him right. Good for Roscoe. I will be the first to admit I was leery of Owen and his bad boy ways when I first met him, but when we got to know each other, things changed. Powerful sexual attraction does muddy up the waters.”
“I’m not…”
Callie touched Brooke’s arm. “You’d be dead if you didn’t notice how handsome he is. But he’s bad news.”
“I know that.”
“I know that you know that. But, when the attraction’s strong enough, the knowing sometimes abandons you.”
Brooke was a bit relieved when the florist called them back for their consult. For the next hour she and Callie looked at different floral arrangements, and discussed the flowers for the church, the bouquets and boutonnieres. When the appointment was over, Callie decided she’d keep this florist on her list, and indicated that when she made her final decision, she’d let them know.
Callie hugged Brooke outside the shop. “I’ve got to run. I’ve got a training appointment in half an hour.”
“Okay, I’ll see you at the dog park tomorrow?”
“Yes, Jack, Tilly and Jill will be with me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Just then Drew and his sister exited the shop.
“Brooke, you’re still here? Find the flowers you were looking for?”
He was making small talk. Which didn’t quite fit with the image she’d developed of him. Her defenses finally shifted more firmly back into place. He might wear his clothes with an elegant nonchalance, but there was that raw edge to him that was far more wild wolf than domesticated canine.
“Yes, Callie’s pleased with the choices and the arrangements,” she said coolly.
She could see his sister didn’t miss the crispness in her tone. “This is my sister, Emma.”
“Hello, how do you know my brother?”
“He’s the primary on a case where a pet owner is suing me for everything I have.”
Emma turned to look at her brother, shock in her eyes. “Is that true?”
“Yes,” he said giving Brooke a surreptitious glare that was more surprise than anger. She was glad she’d caught him flat-footed.
Brooke shrugged and waved goodbye.
She’d only gone a few steps when he caught up with her. “My sister is very upset for you. She wants to know why I would do such a thing.” The wind carried his tantalizing scent to her and she almost choked trying to resist savoring it with a deep, guilty breath.
“And what did you tell her?”
“It was business.”
Brooke stopped and turned to look at him. “It may be just business to you, Mr. Hudson, but it’s everything to me. I’m sure you understand what it’s like to work hard.”
He nodded. “I do.”
“So don’t soothe your conscience—if you have one— by thinking of this lawsuit in such simplistic terms.”
His brows rose at her putdown. “Yeah, my sister didn’t accept that, either. So why don’t we discuss how this could work better for both of us rather than engaging in a court battle?”
“You are a smooth, charming devil. There isn’t going to be a court battle.” She detoured into a Starbuck’s and got into line. He was still behind her, and she sighed. “You really are persistent.”
“When I think you could make a better decision, yes.” He cocked his head, and now there was interest in those bright eyes.
He was standing far too close—at least, that was the excuse she used for taking a slight step forward. “You’re wasting your time.”
He did allow the escape, minor though it was. A small step later, and he was even closer to her than before. “You do know that, right?” she said, desperate to deflect his intent, probing presence. She turned to look at him and got caught in the green depth of his eyes.
“Ma’am?” The world barely penetrated Brooke’s haze.
He indicated something in front of her with that sexy chin. “Order,” he said softly.
She whipped around to find the cashier looking at her quizzically. She ordered her mocha, trying desperately to shake herself free from the man’s spell. When he turned it on, the heat was so intense it scorched her clear down to her toes.
She left without looking at anyone. Her cheeks were probably bright pink.
Again he caught up with her. She was sure he was used to having this effect on women. She kept her gaze carefully averted while she once again scrambled to shore up her defenses. “Are you stalking me?”
“We’re both headed in the same direction. The subway.”
She steeled herself and made an attempt at a casual glance in his direction, though it cost her. His gaze was still connected to her like a tracking beam on a heat-seeking device. She looked down and murmured, “How convenient.”
He stopped her with a hand to her arm. His fingers were warm through her jacket. “Brooke. I can call you Brooke?”
“You already have been calling me Brooke.” Pit bulls could take lessons from him.
“Good, then that makes it friendlier.”
“We’re not friends, Mr. Hudson. We aren’t seeing eye-to-eye on t
his lawsuit, and it will continue to be that way. I will not settle out of court.”
His lips might have twitched the tiniest bit at that. At least he didn’t mind moxie, which was a good thing, because the longer he dragged this out, the spunkier she felt.
“My sister said you’d be stubborn. She said you looked like a fighter.”
“I’m not really a fighter. I have strong reasons for not giving in to this stupid lawsuit, and I’m confident Kristen will come around.”
“What are they?”
“Oh, no. I’m not giving you any fuel to add to your settle-out-of-court delusions.
He chuckled. “They’re not delusions. If it’s any consolation, my sister understands you, because she’s stubborn, too, like my mother.
“Well, then it’s a good thing your mother isn’t here to see this. She would scold you, too.”
For a moment he didn’t speak, and the tenseness in his shoulders and his mouth made her realize she had unwittingly stepped on a land mine.
“My mother’s dead.”
She reached out because she simply couldn’t do anything else. Her voice was calm and even. “I’m so sorry.”
He attempted a smile, but it didn’t light his eyes. He reached out and touched her arm. “It’s all right, Brooke. It’s been a long time.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier. I can see that.”
“No. It doesn’t. My father died, too, in the same car accident. Drunk driver.”
Even though this man was considered an enemy, Brooke’s heart didn’t seem to know the difference. It melted and opened up because it was incapable of any other response to someone’s sorrow. “You raised your sister, then?”
He held her in silent regard for a long moment. He seemed quite relaxed, but then he shoved his hands in his pockets, proving there was more tension in him than he was showing. “I was eighteen. She was twelve.”
“That must have been so hard.” He nodded and looked away. Oh, damn, the tough-as-nails lawyer or the silver-tongued devil she could have resisted, but this vulnerable man touched her to her soul.
“I guess we’re getting a little off topic here. Could we go somewhere to get a bite to eat, or later once you’re free?”
“I-I-I’m never free,” she said caught off guard by the offer. She was stuttering. She didn’t stutter—at least, not anymore. Something subtle had changed between them, but she still suspected his agenda hadn’t changed.
“I’d prefer to keep our relationship purely professional.”
“Okay,” he said, a little too easily.
Perverse creature that she was, she wished he’d at least been a bit more put out by her immediate refusal.
“Does that mean we can’t have a bite to eat? It’s just a mutual agreement to eat together?” he went, on making her feel exceedingly better, a double warning sign which she carelessly ignored.
She shouldn’t…couldn’t want him pursuing her. Really, she must not allow it. On any level. No matter how good it made her feel. She couldn’t risk enjoying even something as simple as having her ego stroked. Much less any other part of her. She tried like mad not to look at his mouth again.
He grinned a little. “I just thought, hey, you’re a maid of honor in a wedding and I’m giving the bride away. I know absolutely nothing about weddings. As a woman, and an organized one it seems, you would know. I’m sure you’re planning everything down to the minutest of details.”
Oh, he was clever. Her first inclination was to jump in and help him. Would that be…bad? It would be very bad, she assured herself, if this was calculated, if he was using this opportunity and her nature against her. She just couldn’t be sure. He looked sincere, and she liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. She chuckled. “Planning a wedding is all about the details. I’ll give you that little tip for nothing.”
“My sister means everything to me. I’m sure you thought I was this ruthless jerk.” He laughed a little and shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
He caught her gaze and held it. The combination of that compelling intensity in his eyes and the laughter was downright lethal. Her skin tingled, her heart beat faster, and there were butterflies dancing in her belly.
“Or you can tell me exactly what you think of me over dinner.”
She’d never wanted to accept an invitation more. She had no doubt that if the two of them were alone, anywhere outside of a business-only situation, dinner wouldn’t be all they’d be having. Reason enough to end this little tête à tête. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
He might continue to persist, and she was surprised to find that, even knowing better, she almost wanted him to. Maybe he’d find a way past her defenses, find a way to make it okay to take what she wanted and damn the consequences. Only the consequences, in this case, were huge and didn’t only involve her. She remembered Kristen’s ultimatum. Brooke had to protect Rachel. There was a hopeful thought in the back of her mind that she could bring him around to her point of view. But she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t just grasping at straws.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just grab a cab.”
Chapter Four
The next day, Drew entered the homeless shelter ready to work. He’d contacted the manager earlier in the week to let him know he’d like to volunteer. He was wearing Brooke down. He could tell, which would have been great, except she was having an unexpected impact on him, too.
Yesterday after the meeting with the florist, he’d forgotten the number one rule. Don’t get emotionally involved with the opposition. In any way.
What the hell had happened yesterday, anyway? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost track of what he was doing. Lost track of his goal like that. He’d asked her out? That wasn’t part of the plan. He wasn’t against using his charm, but getting involved with Brooke wasn’t on the agenda.
But he’d genuinely wanted to have dinner with her and discuss all things wedding. What was the matter with him? Brooke had an engaging charm of her own. It was her big, compassionate heart. The way her eyes looked when he was talking about his parents’ deaths. He got sucked into that vortex of support and caring; just like he’d gotten sucked into the memory of his mother when he’d smelled apple and cinnamon in Brooke’s apartment. Even now that memory tempted him.
He shook it off. He had a job to do, and that job entailed getting Brooke to settle out of court. He couldn’t go soft now.
Once inside the homeless shelter, he strode up to the counter. There were a few people getting the evening meal ready, and he spotted Brooke working with a large pan of mashed potatoes. He took the apron someone handed him and made his way behind the counter.
As she struggled with the weight of the pan, he grabbed it to steady it. She looked at him with a smile on her face, genuine and welcoming, until she did a double take when she saw it was him.
“You are stalking me.”
“I just volunteered yesterday. How was I supposed to know you’d be at this shelter?”
Her eyes narrowed, and it was clear she didn’t quite believe him, but that was okay. This was about getting close to Brooke. Getting to know her and how she thought and what was keeping her from settling out of court. “I guess it’s your time you’re wasting chasing me around. I don’t know how you guessed where I would be, but I find it difficult to understand why you keep pressuring me.”
“I’m here to work at this shelter. That’s all. It’s a coincidence we’re here at the same time.”
She looked him up and down. “Next time you come here to..ummmm…work, you might want to change out of your thousand-dollar suit. You might get it dirty. Oh, and watch out for your fine wool coat. Cashmere, right? I’m sure you wouldn’t want it stolen.”
She jerked the pan out of his hands and staggered a bit. Turning her back, she set it on the counter next to the gravy.
The manager greeted him with a hearty hello and told him he’d be ladling out the gravy after Brooke gave out a serving of the potatoes.
People were lined up out the door. The night was cold, and for a moment he thought about all the people here who had no homes, and fear writhed in his gut like worms.
Who knows what would have happened to him and his sister if his parents hadn’t had a substantial bank account and insurance? His father had provided for them, and that had allowed Drew to finish his BA and go on to law school. He had worked hard, but if it weren’t for the luck of the draw he could have been standing in that line.
Seeing them only reinforced his need to snag that coveted partner slot by ensuring Brooke’s cooperation in settling out of court. Once he was sitting in that corner office, he wouldn’t have to worry about security anymore.
He couldn’t help noticing that Brooke was a natural at this, and all of a sudden he didn’t feel good about what he was doing. With an effort he pushed away those thoughts and ignored his conscience. She smiled and doled out the food with genuine warmth.
Standing here now, listening to her voice, which managed to be both soothing and no-nonsense, and looking into eyes that were quick to crinkle at the corners, yet easily held her own when challenged…yeah, he wavered in his rationale and found it a little harder to stay on target.
His body was also not cooperating with his stand-back-and-manage-the-situation agenda, and that made it even more difficult. But, since he was a guy, that part wasn’t surprising. No one could really blame him for noticing things like how her hair glowed a dark coffee brown in the overhead lights, which occasionally highlighted veins of mahogany red. She tucked a strand behind her ear, drawing his eyes to her creamy throat and the perfect shell of her ear, which he had the overwhelming urge to nibble.
Or how the jeans she wore gloved her curvy butt when she leaned over to reach an outstretched plate to deliver her dollop of mashed potatoes.
“You’re a natural at this,” he croaked, then cleared his throat.
She gave him a sidelong wry glance as if she suspected some kind of putdown in his words.
“Thanks. I’ve been working here for some time. I know a lot of these people.
