I’d called her this morning for emergency girl time so I could get the oddness and frustration of this whole situation off my chest and refocus.
“I know. And I can’t believe he’d actually talked me into coffee with him.”
She tilted her head and gave me the raised eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“What?” I had no idea what she was driving at.
“Let’s see.” She put up a hand and started counting off on her fingers. “He’s cute. He’s got that ass. You haven’t gotten laid in a decade.” I scowled at her at that one and tried to shush her, but she continued, undeterred. “He blatantly pursued you, which is hot. And, oh yeah, that ass!” she finished, shoving her open palm in my face.
I smacked it aside. “Whatever. I just thank God I realized my mistake before I actually went out with him. I think I need a vacation.”
“Damn straight. I’ve been telling you that for two years. But let’s not kid ourselves. You’re never taking a vacation. You’ve got the AgPower thing and all your other cases on top of that. You’re going to die at your desk and we’ll just cover you in a shroud and seal the room up.”
“Shut up. I am not. But, you’re right, I can’t take vacation anytime in the foreseeable future. Must stick to the plan: crush Craig, get partnership, kick butt, and retire to Aruba at fifty.” I ticked off my list on my own fingers.
“You’d better get a tiki hut for two, because I’m joining you, girl.”
I gave her a side hug as we approached the counter to place our order. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Once we were settled at our table with our drinks, I asked Ari about her family. I needed to focus on something else.
“They’re good. I still haven’t dared to bring Elliot back around, but Mamá said you’d better get your ass to dinner one of these days.”
I set my cup down and sighed. “I know. I haven’t seen your parents in months. Tell her I promise I’ll come soon.”
Ari took a small sip of her coffee and played with her necklace with her other hand. Her tone turned to one that’s usually accompanied by some form of oversharing on her part. “And Ponch has been asking about you too. I told him you were dating the baseball coach and he about blew a gasket. Granted, I didn’t know at the time that you actually were dating Gavin, but that makes it even funnier. I think Ponch’s flirting is turning into a real-life lustfest.”
I shooed her off. “No it isn’t. He’s like that with everyone with boobs.”
“I don’t know…” she trailed off, still playing with the beads around her neck.
“And I wasn’t dating Gavin. We were engaging in some mildly flirty texting and were considering drinking some coffee in the same room. That’s a far cry from dating.”
“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that.”
I threw my napkin at her and she laughed, finally dropping the damn necklace and leaning forward on the table.
“I hate to stir things up. Okay, I love to stir things up, I admit.” She gave me a wicked grin before continuing. “But, I don’t really see what Gavin did that was all that bad.”
I looked at her incredulously. “He told a fourteen-year-old boy to steal a car!”
“No, he didn’t. That’s ridiculous.” This time it was her shooing me. “He gave some advice that was grossly misinterpreted and ended in a shitty situation. Which he called in favors to remedy, I might add. He didn’t just ditch the kid.” She sat back in her chair, having just closed her argument with what she considered to be a slam dunk. Why wasn’t she the lawyer?
I supposed that was true. I played with the cardboard sleeve of my coffee cup and thought for a moment before responding. “Be that as it may, he’s still way too young to consider. And, I might add, I hardly have time to see you; where would I ever find the time to date anyone?”
“All work and no play…just sayin’.” She shrugged and pointed at me. “And don’t forget that ass.”
I searched around for another napkin to throw at her but had to settle for a dirty look instead.
Damn you, Ari, I thought to myself later that afternoon as I tried for the third time to focus on the boring paperwork in front of me. I was reviewing documents on an acquisition one of our clients was finalizing, but my brain seemed to be stuck on Ari’s words from that morning.
I admit, maybe I’d been a bit rude in my texts to Gavin the previous night. I pulled my phone out so I could review the exchange.
Nope: Hi.
I’d changed his contact name from Too Young for You to Nope as soon as his text came through the night before. I hadn’t even intended to acknowledge his message, but after an hour it had seemed rude not to.
Emerson: Hello, Gavin. What can I do for you?
Nope: I think we had a miscommunication of some kind. How about if we work it out on Wednesday over our coffee?
Emerson: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry, I’m going to have to cancel.
Nope: I think I at least deserve an explanation, don’t you?
Emerson: It’s just for the best. Let’s leave it at that. Good luck, and I’m sure I’ll see you at some of Jay’s games.
Hmm. That had been a bit abrupt, hadn’t it? I brought up the phone’s keyboard and considered what I might text back to appropriately apologize for my rudeness, while also communicating that nothing was going to happen between us. I began to type.
Emerson: I’m sorry I
That was as far as I got when Craig burst into my office—without knocking—and proceeded to rant at me about a detail I’d missed in the non-disclosure draft. By the time I settled him down and explained that it hadn’t been an oversight but an intentional omission of information, it was over an hour later. He finally left me in peace and I removed my reading glasses, closed my eyes, and squeezed the bridge of my nose to stave off the headache that usually came in the wake of any Craig encounter.
“You look beat,” said a voice from the doorway. A very familiar voice.
My eyes snapped open and Gavin Monroe stood in my doorway, looking all adorable and sexy in athletic shorts and a grey t-shirt, the familiar green baseball cap covering his head. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and his face sported a sheepish grin.
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I got your text,” he said, casual as can be.
“My…” I looked around on my desk until I unearthed my phone and dismissed the lock screen. Sure enough, there was a text from me to Gavin, and two in return. I had sent the damn unfinished text by accident. I chose to blame Craig.
Emerson: I’m sorry I
Nope: You’re sorry you what? Cancelled our coffee date?
Nope: You’re forgiven, by the way. I’ll even stop by your office and bring you a cup on my way to training.
My eyes found him again and I was speechless. How had I gotten myself into this?
Seemingly needing no invitation, he sauntered into my office and set the coffee in front of me. “I didn’t know how you liked it, so I took a wild guess and got you a skim vanilla latte. That’s what Mark’s girlfriend likes, so I chanced it.”
I looked down at the coffee and back to him. I recalled the girlfriend. Fiona, I think. “Yes. I mean, that’s perfect. Thank you.”
Again, needing no invitation, he took a seat across from my desk and took a good look around. “This is nice. You must be pretty important.”
I took a moment to look around myself and take in the surroundings from a newcomer’s perspective. It was a nice office with a small sofa and table in the corner and two matching chairs in front of a maple desk. Coordinating bookshelves lined one wall and I even had a small window with a view of the courtyard.
My eyes came back to him. “I don’t know about that. I’m just a fourth-year associate. You should see the partners’ offices.” I stayed seated because I had no clue what to do in this situation. I hadn’t wanted him to come here. “So,” I began awkwardly, “I guess you have training to go to. What time does that s
tart?”
Incredibly subtle, Emerson. Geez.
He looked at his watch. “Not for another forty-five minutes. I made sure I had plenty of time.”
For what? I wanted to ask but kept my mouth shut.
“So, I was thinking—if it works with your schedule, of course—we could meet up at the Starbucks around the corner when you’re done with work tomorrow. Unless, that is, you’ve changed your mind and want to do dinner. I don’t know that I could put together that ‘best date ever’ in the short timeframe, but I can arrange something.”
When I didn’t respond, he continued, gesturing to the coffee in front of me, “I mean, technically, we’ve done coffee so it’s only proper to move on to dinner as a second date.”
“Date?” was all I managed before another visitor chose the worst possible moment to fill my office doorway.
Mr. Wheeler stood in the threshold, head bent to his phone. “Ms. Scott, is it possible to move our…” he began before glancing up and seeing I already had company. He straightened.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize you had a client.”
“Oh, he’s not a client,” I burst out before my brain could catch up and tell me to shut my mouth.
Mr. Wheeler took the entire situation in stride and stepped forward, hand out to Gavin, who stood and shook my boss’s hand.
“Gavin Monroe. Pleased to meet you.”
“Thomas Wheeler. The pleasure is mine,” my boss returned formally and then, just as he released Gavin’s hand, his eyes widened a bit and snapped back to Gavin’s face. “You’re Gavin Monroe.” His tone was suddenly enthusiastic and he gave a small laugh. “Well, of course you are. You just introduced yourself. I followed your career since you were in high school. My daughter went to State and I never missed a game.”
Gavin seemed to be completely unaffected by this jovial outburst from my boss that had me mentally passing out in shock. My freaking boss was fan-girling all over my non-date. Who the hell was this guy?
“I appreciate it,” replied Gavin. “Fans are what make the whole thing possible.”
“Well, you definitely had one in me, I’ll tell you that. I’m really sorry things didn’t work out for you.”
Gavin gave a self-deprecating smile and shrugged. “We can’t all live the dream. I’ve moved on.”
Mr. Wheeler nodded appreciatively and then turned to me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating a local legend?”
Oh, God! “No, we’re—” I began, but Gavin cut me off.
“It’s new. She probably didn’t want to broadcast her personal life around the office.”
“True. Always the consummate professional, Ms. Scott.” He nodded again and I had no earthly clue how to respond. Refuting Gavin’s comment would only trigger more discussion on the topic and would make me appear indecisive or flighty. That, I could not have.
“Well, now that the cat is out of the bag, we may as well take advantage of this situation,” Mr. Wheeler commented, his gaze shifting between me and Gavin.
No, no, no!
“As Ms. Scott knows, we have our Bar Association softball tournament coming up and we always encourage significant others to participate.” He looked at Gavin with raised eyebrows and I wished for the largest piano possible to drop on my head. Or Gavin’s. I couldn’t decide.
Chapter Ten
Play Ball
GAVIN
I was feeling pretty proud of myself for how I’d maneuvered that situation. Thomas Wheeler left the office a few minutes after I agreed to be on their firm’s softball team, and I’m sure I wore a shit-eating grin. One glance at Emmy, though, told me I’d better gird my loins because shit was about to rain down on my parade. Eh, maybe I mixed a few too many idioms, but I was starting to panic.
Emmy stood from behind her desk, revealing another conservative suit—this one some kind of grey tweed with a white blouse underneath. She was buttoned up into the perfect package and all I wanted to do was unbutton every little bit of her. It had been all I could do not to bite my hand when I’d seen her at her desk wearing those glasses. Talk about sexy librarian fantasies—I’d be booking some alone time this evening for sure.
Her mood did not match mine, however, as she grabbed me by the sleeve of my t-shirt and practically marched me out of her office and down the hall toward the elevators. I thought briefly about asking her to bring those glasses with her, but wisely kept my mouth shut.
She was seething, and I’m sure I was supposed to understand why, but once again, I was at a loss when it came to this woman. Although, I did consider the possibility that maybe I shouldn’t have told her colleague we were dating. I’ll admit, I got a little ahead of myself.
The elevator opened and she pulled me inside. Was it wrong that I was getting a little turned on by her forceful behavior? Down boy, I told myself. The doors closed and she turned to me, opening her mouth and pointing her index finger in my face. I waited, but nothing came out. She closed it, then opened it again and drew in a deep breath. Still nothing. Her eyes were piercing me with anger or frustration, or maybe a bit of both. When she closed her mouth without speaking this time, I decided she’d had her turn. Now it was mine.
I stepped into her, leaned down, and covered her mouth with mine. She was stiff as a board, but I didn’t let that deter me. I put one hand to the small of her back and the other to the back of her neck, drawing her into me. The kiss began gently as I took her bottom lip between mine, then switched to the top, grazing it lightly with my teeth in the process. Her lips were soft and perfect, as I’d known they’d be. I pulled back a fraction of an inch and felt her warm breath on my mouth as she exhaled. When she didn’t slap me or pull back, I angled my head and deepened the kiss, gently sweeping my tongue across her bottom lip, begging for entrance.
Her lips parted in invitation and I didn’t hesitate to slide my tongue against hers for a better taste. She smelled amazing—like citrus and vanilla—and she tasted even better. A combination of coffee and mint and something else that I assumed was just Emmy. She let out a little moan and I adjusted our position, allowing my hand to travel up her back so I could press her breasts into my chest as my mouth continued its assault.
Finally, I felt her arms wrap around and grasp two fistfuls of my t-shirt at the back. The anger had all but dissipated, replaced by desire and/or the need to rip my shirt off my back. Not that I was complaining. This spurred me on, and I let my hand travel back down until it reached her ass. I pulled her in even further so she could feel the effect she was having on me.
Just then, the elevator dinged and we both jumped back, having completely forgotten where we were.
She muttered something that sounded like “sugar” before she frantically smoothed her hair and clothes just as the elevator doors parted. Two women in suits very similar to Emmy’s stepped in, both of them nodding to us before continuing their conversation. Emmy extended them a strained smile and then, when the women’s backs were turned to us, hissed quietly at me, “I can’t believe you just did that.”
I leaned in and heard her breath hitch, as if she thought I was moving in to kiss her again. “Did what?”
“Any of it,” she whispered tersely.
The elevator doors opened to the lobby and she stalked out after the women. I raced to catch up to her, impressed at how fast she could walk in those heels. Speaking of those heels, Jesus—they made her legs look a mile long and added an extra sway to her ass as she practically sprinted out of the building ahead of me. I was acutely aware that my athletic shorts did very little to hide my condition, and I wished for some kind of folder or bag to place in front of me while I walked. Oh well. It couldn’t be helped. At least not around this woman, that was for damn sure.
By the time she exited the building and was halfway down the sidewalk, I’d had enough of the chasing. I caught up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Emmy, wait.”
She whirled on me. “Emerson. My name is Emerson. Not Emmy. Emerson.”
She brushed a hair out of her eyes and stood stiffly.
I pulled my head back. “Really? You don’t like Emmy?”
“That’s what my mother calls me. Nobody else.” She looked to the side, obviously still perturbed.
“Well, you could have corrected me.”
“I know.” She shook her head and then brought her gaze back to me. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, you act way too familiar with me. You just told my boss we were dating and you invited yourself to join my firm’s softball team, for God’s sake! Not to mention that incredibly inappropriate kiss in the elevator!” She huffed, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d stomped her foot. I thought the whole display was kind of hot. This whole riled-up sexy librarian thing was a turn on. Big time.
I couldn’t help the grin that formed on my face. “I didn’t hear you complaining at the time.”
She glared at me but it bounced right off.
Her hands extended in exasperation. “Now I’ll have to manufacture a believable break-up that doesn’t result in my boss being ticked at me for messing with the darn roster he’s no doubt salivating over at this very moment.” She gestured heatedly back to the building.
I raised my hand as if asking permission to speak. Yes, like a five-year-old. Hey, if she got to be the librarian, I’d volunteer to be the student. That got me another glare, so I dug in. “Or, I could just play on the team. Sounds easier.”
She sighed. “You don’t understand, Gavin. I can’t let word get around that I’m dating someone so much younger than me. It would seriously mess with my reputation at the firm. I’d be fodder for the office gossip chain. Don’t you understand? I’m on the partner track and I have to watch my every move.”
“Your boss didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”
“That’s because he had stars in his eyes. How was I supposed to know you’re some kind of local hero?” I scowled at that but she continued, “He was envisioning holding up the championship trophy, not thinking about my career. And, believe me, the other two managing partners wouldn’t miss a chance to knock me down a peg, and don’t even get me started on the other associates. It’s dog-eat-dog in there. You wouldn’t understand.” She sounded defeated, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit offended.
The Game (Carolina Connections Book 4) Page 9
