The Hot Lawyer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #4)

by Alexa Davis

  "You're insane," I said.

  "Why? Because I'm not afraid to grab a hold of what I want and commit myself to getting it?" he asked as he stood up and started pacing the room. "I don't think I'm the crazy one, Linc. I think I'm saner than I've ever been in my entire life. I know what I want and I'm going after it full force."

  "Slow down, Skippy," I laughed. "She hasn't said yes yet."

  "Don't you get it?" he said as he stopped pacing and stared at me. "It doesn't matter whether you win or not, the victory is in going after what your heart knows it wants and being honest about it. It's vulnerability, my friend."

  "Vulnerability?"

  "Yes, opening yourself up to the possibilities and grabbing hold of them even when you have no idea whether you'll get what you want," he said excitedly. "Once you know what your heart wants, you have to go for it!"

  "Thank you, Mr. Inspiration," I said dryly. "I'm completely ready to get on board now."

  "Don't be a pessimist, Linc," he smiled. "I know it's hard to believe it, but it's true. I'm scared as hell that Mo will end up telling me I'm crazy and wrong and that there's no way in the world that we can make this work, but the other side of it is that she says yes and we do make it work!"

  "But what if it all goes to hell in a hand basket once you've gotten what you want?"

  "So what if it does?" he replied. I looked up at my friend and saw him standing in front of me smiling the biggest, most stupid smile I'd ever seen.

  "Then you're heartbroken and disappointed and crushed by failure," I said.

  "But, Linc, what if it does work?" he whispered. "That's the part that is so appealing!"

  "You're still insane," I said taking another sip from my glass.

  "You're just jealous."

  "Jealous? Of what?"

  "Jealous that I have the balls to tell a woman how I feel about her and let myself fall," he said. "Why don't you tell Olivia what you feel about her?"

  "I don't know what I feel about her!" I protested.

  "I beg to differ," he said with a knowing look. "I've seen the two of you together. There's something going on."

  "I've known her less than a month," I said shaking my head. "There's nothing going on. Besides, she is stubborn and brutally honest."

  "Two qualities you love and respect in your friends," he said as he walked across the room and sat down again.

  "She's so defensive," I countered.

  "Pot calling the kettle black, I'd say," he quipped.

  "You're becoming annoying," I said testily. "Besides, I asked and she's agreed to go out with me on Friday."

  "Where are you taking her?" he asked without commenting on my quick shift.

  "I don't know, I thought maybe we'd go to the movies and then dinner," I said giving him a look that was meant to shut him up.

  "That sounds like a boring date for a guy who's worth a billion dollars," he said. "What are you really planning?"

  "I've got an idea," I said as I held up the bottle and offered him another shot of whiskey. Brant nodded and I walked across the room and poured him another glass.

  "Oh, well, as long as you've got an idea, everything will be just fine," he grinned.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Olivia

  I woke up early on Friday morning, made a pot of coffee, showered, and then spent the next several hours trying to figure out what to wear. Since Linc had not told me where we'd be going or what we were doing, I'd had to figure it all out for myself. I'd deduced that it would be casual since he'd said the car would arrive at ten, but beyond that, I had not a clue. I finally decided that the best bet would be a soft green sweater with a scoop neck, black jeans, and a pair of black Chelsea boots that would be comfortable for walking. I left my hair loose and free and applied the minimal amount of cosmetics necessary for a date, which, for me, was a coat of mascara, a swipe of blush, and a dab of lipstick so that I didn't look washed out. I surveyed my efforts in the mirror and was satisfied with the outcome. Hopefully, Linc would be, too.

  At precisely ten o'clock, my buzzer rang and I descend to the lobby to find a driver waiting to escort me to a long, black limo parked at the curb. I had expected to find Linc waiting for me inside the limo, but instead, there was a bottle of champagne on ice with a note that read, "Drink Me." I laughed as I poured myself a glass and then sat back and watched the city speed by as the limo took me to my destination. There was something exciting about not knowing exactly where I was going or what Linc had planned.

  Around the time I finished my second glass of champagne, we pulled up on an airstrip next to a private plane. The driver got out and opened my door, and as I exited the limo, I saw Linc descending the stairs of the plane.

  "Good morning, Olivia!" he called as he crossed the tarmac. "I'm glad you could make it. I've got an exciting day planned for us."

  "Good morning, Redding," I said as I tried to will my pulse to slow down. He looked like he had stepped out of the pages of a magazine, dressed in a deep blue sweater that matched his eyes and a pair of jeans that looked so soft I ached to run my hands down them. I shifted my gaze to the plane. "This is quite the surprise."

  "I wanted to do something unique and adventurous," he said as he turned and gestured toward the plane. "What do you think?"

  "Nice plane?" I said unsure of what kind of response he was hoping for.

  "I mean, what do you think about an adventure?" he laughed as he turned and walked toward the plane gesturing for me to follow him.

  "I think adventure is highly overrated," I said as we climbed the stairs and stepped into the body of the plane.

  "Lighten up, Moore," he said with a smile. "You never know, you might have fun."

  "And again, I will ask," I said as I shot him a wary look. "What the hell happened to you, Redding? Did you hit your head? You're being way too agreeable and not nearly stubborn enough."

  "I'm trying to be a good host," he said. The smile stayed on his lips but it faded a bit in his eyes. "Don't you like it when people are polite?"

  "No, actually, I don't," I said. "Or at least, not when it's you. When you're polite, I assume you're up to something and I get suspicious."

  "Olivia..." he said. I watched the frustration begin to rise to the surface and I smiled sweetly, waiting for him to let loose. But something shifted and he took a deep breath before he spoke again. "Would you like something to drink before we take off?"

  "Okay, now I'm getting scared," I said. "This is like a creepier version of the Stepford Wives and you're going all Stepfordy on me."

  "Jesus, woman!" he shouted. "I'm just trying to have some manners so that we don't end up ripping each other to shreds! Can't you reciprocate?"

  "Ah ha, there you are!" I said in a bright voice. "I knew you were in there somewhere, dying to get out."

  "It must be extremely tiring to live so defensively all the time," Linc said as he stood inches away from me, staring straight into my eyes. To say I was surprised would have been an understatement, and the expression on my face gave me away. He smiled a little as he gestured to a seat in the luxurious cabin.

  I'd never been on a private plane before, and as I looked around, I realized that money did make a difference in the way people moved about. The cabin of the aircraft looked like a comfortable living room, albeit with more seating than the average den. The floor was covered in a thick, Berber carpeting that made me feel like I was walking on pillows. The walls were painted a soft shade of taupe and edged in off white, giving the room a cozy feel. But it was the furniture that really stood out. The microfiber couches that were wide and welcoming looked like a place where you could curl up under a blanket and read a book while you moved around the world. There was a seating area that, in a normal home, would have been centered around a fireplace, but here was designed so that a table could be raised and lowered, making it a dining area or a conference table. It felt homey and warm.

  "Now, can I get you something to drink?" Linc offered again. His smile was warm a
nd genuine and I returned it as I nodded. "Champagne or something stronger?"

  "If you've got more of that champagne, I'll have a glass," I said quietly.

  "I've got several bottles!" he laughed as he headed to the back of the cabin and pulled open a door that looked like a closet, revealing a fully stocked fridge. He pulled out a bottle and popped it open, pouring two glasses and bringing one to me. "Here you go! Let's toast to an adventure."

  "To adventure," I smiled as we clinked glasses and then sipped. As we waited for the crew to complete their final check of the aircraft, Linc sat down next to me. I looked at him and asked, "Where are we going?"

  "Do you want to know or do you want to be surprised?" he offered.

  "I think I would like to know, I'm not a big fan of surprises." I tried to move away from him enough to give me some breathing room. There was something about his proximity that made it extremely difficult to catch my breath, and I found myself having to fight back the urge to run my fingers through is dark curls.

  "I'm surprised that a reporter is adverse to surprise," he said as he moved a little closer. I felt my breath catch in my chest as he leaned toward me.

  "I'm...we...I just like to be informed," I stammered, looking up into his piercing blue eyes.

  "You like knowing everything," he remarked softly as he raised his hand and traced a line down my cheek with his finger. My eyes darted from his eyes to his lips as he slowly stroked the side of my face. I could feel myself getting lightheaded as desire flooded my brain and spread out through my body. There was no denying that I felt an animal attraction to this man.

  "Mmm hmmm," I nodded as he cupped my face and ran his thumb across my lower lip.

  "But you should know by now that you can't know everything," he whispered as he leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips across mind before kissing a trail down my jaw to my neck. I groaned as he ran his tongue down the side of my neck, sending a jolt to the millions of nerves throughout my body. He kissed his way back up to my ear where he spoke quietly, "I'm going to surprise you, Olivia."

  And with that, he sat up, backed away a short distance, and smiled like a Cheshire cat. My eyes widened as I watched him, I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but the pounding of my pulse told me that whatever it was, it was exciting, and the wetness between my legs told me that I wanted more.

  "Are you going to tell me where we're going, then?" I asked as I swallowed hard and tried to regain my composure.

  "No, I think I'll let you be surprised," he smiled. "But I think you'll like where we're headed."

  In that moment, I chose to believe him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Linc

  It was a short ride from D.C. to JFK, but it gave us plenty of time to talk. "What's happening with the gun bill?" Olivia asked once she'd regained control of her senses. I'd liked seeing her a little out of control, but I didn't want to push things too far too fast and scare her off.

  "Let's agree not to talk Washington business this afternoon, shall we?" I replied. She nodded slowly, as if she wasn't sure of my intentions. I smiled and said, "Look, I just want us to have a good time and relax a little. If we spend the whole time talking business, then we might as well have holed up in my office and not come here at all, right?"

  "Right," she said hesitantly. "But you still haven't told me where we're going."

  "Why don't you look out your window?" I said gesturing towards the window behind her. The skyline gave it away as we headed in for a landing.

  She looked out the window, then back at me, then back out the window smiling as she exclaimed, "New York City at Christmas is one of my favorite places!"

  "I'm glad I picked the right place, then," I said. Once off the plane, we hopped into a limo and headed downtown. "I thought we'd head over to SoHo for lunch then back up to Fifth Avenue to see the Christmas windows."

  "That sounds like a great plan," she smiled, and for a moment I felt like maybe she'd give me a chance.

  We headed to Broome Street and Despaña for lunch. Inside, we were surrounded by the sights and smells that reminded me of the summer I'd spent in Madrid. We were taken to a table where we ordered plates full of sea urchin pate, peppers stuffed with chorizo, manchego, and lightly sautéed asparagus with jamon Serrano. I asked the server to bring us a bottle of Rioja and once our glasses were filled, I sat back and watched as Olivia dug into the food. She wasn't afraid to eat with her hands, and I smiled when she grabbed a stem of asparagus and held it with her fingers licking the juice from her wrist when it dripped down her hand.

  "You look a little more relaxed," I observed.

  "This is delicious!" she said as she grabbed a stuffed pepper and popped it in her mouth. "And the wine is wonderful, though it seems that you're trying to get me drunk, Redding."

  "Nah, I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. After lunch, we'll walk up Fifth Avenue and see if we can't find something fun to do."

  "You do realize that I'm not really impressed by all your money, don't you?" she blurted out as she took another sip of wine and looked across the table expectantly.

  "What the hell?" I said sitting up and grabbing the edge of the table with both hands. "Are you always so rude to people who are trying to be nice to you?"

  "Maybe, but I'm just saying that I don't care about all the money," she repeated.

  "I'm not trying to impress you!"

  "Could have fooled me," she shrugged as she speared a piece of sea urchin and slipped it between her lips.

  "Why do you always have to be so difficult?" I could feel my blood pressure rising and my frustration level elevating. She was rude, that's all there was to it.

  "Why do you always have to be in charge of everything?"

  "When am I in charge of everything?"

  "You don't like being out of control. You like orchestrating everything so that you don't have any surprises," she said. "But you don't want anyone else to be like you, do you?"

  "Are you calling me a control freak?" I asked.

  "If the shoe fits," she shrugged again as she lifted the wine glass to her lips and drank from it.

  "So, what am I supposed to do? If I'd waited for you to return my call, I'd never have spoken to you again!" I shot back. "You don't want anyone making you feel out of control, why?"

  "Now, that's a good question," she said as she turned her emerald green eyes on me and held me in her gaze. I could feel my heart racing and I wasn't entirely sure that it had anything to do with being mad. "Do you really want to know or do you prefer to hear the socially acceptable story designed for public consumption?"

  "No, lie to me, that's a great way for us to build solid communication," I said sarcastically.

  "Temper, temper, Redding," she said with an amused grin. The anger returned as she mocked me, but it was mixed with an extraordinarily strong attraction.

  "Fine, then just tell me whatever you want to tell me," I grumbled. "I don't care."

  "Oh, but I think you do," she said as she leaned across the table and laid her hand on top of mine. "I think you care very much."

  "What do you want, Olivia?" I asked. "It's like you want to piss me off. Like you want me to get up and walk out and leave you here alone. Is that what you want? Because I can't figure out any other explanation for why you do this push-pull routine with me."

  She looked surprised for a moment, and then looked down and quietly said, "I don't know what I want from you. You confuse me."

  "Well, the feeling is entirely mutual, lady," I muttered as I reached into my pocket, pulled out a handful of cash and threw it on the table. I looked up and saw her smiling at me as she reached out and grabbed my hand.

  "C'mon, let's walk up Spring Street and see what's decorated!" she cried as she pulled me out of the cafe. "Dismiss the limo, we're taking the subway today, Redding."

  For the rest of the afternoon, Olivia led me on a tour of the city unlike any I'd ever been on before. We walked up Broome Street to Wooster where we stoppe
d in several art galleries before heading toward Spring Street and checking out the holiday windows at Chanel and stopping for hot chocolate at Vosges. There was a light snow falling and it covered the city in a white blanket that seemed special ordered for the holiday. Olivia's eyes shined as she pulled me from one store to the next, pointing out the beautiful decorations and chattering about how the city always looked so welcoming in winter.

  As I watched her, I felt like I was experiencing real Christmas joy for the first time since my parents died. I recalled what Mo and Brant had both said about taking chances, and as Olivia excitedly pointed out the beautiful decorations at the MoMA Design Store, I reached out and took her hand. She looked up at me with surprise, but then laced her fingers with mine and squeezed them before pulling me onward. I wanted to ask her a hundred questions and find out everything there was to know about her, but I had started to realize that getting to know Olivia Moore was going to be like peeling back an onion, not taking out a knife and slicing it in two, so I took a deep breath and followed her lead.

  We talked about college experiences, books we loved, people we didn't like, and a host of things that made me find her even more interesting and intriguing than I had before. She loved Shakespeare and ’60s pulp fiction equally, and had never seen a reality television program. I told her that I was a big fan of nineteenth century fiction, but that I could tolerate some twentieth century writing, and she called me a snob. I laughed and when I shot back that she was a damn hippie, she wrapped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me down for a quick kiss. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome, and it left me feeling a little less confused.

  Around four o'clock, I said, "We'd better be getting back to my place so we have time to get ready and make our dinner reservations."

  "Wait, I didn't pack any clothes," she said. "I'm not sure how I'm going to get ready for anything."

  "Oh, I've taken care of that," I smiled as I hailed a cab and instructed the driver where to go.