by E. M. Shea
The Law of Unexpected Attraction
BOOK 1: Dani & Nick
E. M. Shea
Copyright © 2020 by E.M. Shea
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
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Chapter One
Dani Scott was on a roll.
It hadn’t always been a smooth journey, but after all the hard work and determination that went into establishing herself as a sought-after defense attorney, she finally had arrived. Not only had she recently been made partner at the prestigious law firm of Schulman, Heinz & Associates, but she had just settled into a new home in Cedarsville, Massachusetts, an upscale, tree-lined town on the outskirts of Boston.
Even her new fifteen-minute commute to work was nothing short of pleasurable—a far cry from the hourlong bumper-to-bumper headache that she had left behind in the city. It was an added benefit that she appreciated once more as she careened down Granite Highway, aptly named as it coursed through a rocky, wooded landscape. As the sun peeked through the slightly ajar window of her SUV, it was as if the balmy, early August morning was seconding the motion: Life is good. And it can only get better.
Reaching over to pull down the sun visor, Dani drew in a deep breath and smiled as she soaked up her surroundings. It was all so beautiful. The crisp blue sky, the lush green trees, the flashing red lights …
Wait, what?
Dani quickly snapped out of her euphoria as the lights—and the police SUV they were attached to—pulled up seemingly within inches behind her.
“Great,” she muttered under her breath as she maneuvered her vehicle over as far as possible onto the side bank of the road. With slightly jittery hands, she reached into the glove compartment to extract her registration, then fumbled through her purse for her driver’s license. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the flash of a dark-gray uniform just outside the driver side window. Pressing the automatic button, she rolled the window down. “Good morning, officer,” she said with forced friendliness as a tall, broad-shouldered specimen came into focus.
“Ma’am.” The officer acknowledged her with a slight nod. “You do know why I pulled you over.”
She smiled, another less-than-sincere gesture. “Is that a question or a statement?”
Unamused, his chiseled jaw tightened. “You were driving sixty-seven in a fifty-mile-per-hour zone.”
“Really? The speed limit is only fifty miles per hour on this road?”
“Yes. Just like the sign two miles back says.”
“Oh,” Dani replied sheepishly, sinking further into her seat. “I somehow didn’t notice it.”
“You were swerving quite a bit as well.” He removed his mirrored sunglasses, revealing steely gray eyes that caused Dani’s already revved up pulse to quicken.
“Swerving? It must have been when I was adjusting the sun visor.”
“Were you on your cellphone?” he asked as he peered inside her spotless Acura MDX. Either he hadn’t heard her explanation, or chose to ignore it.
“No. Why, is that illegal, too?” As a lawyer, Dani knew the answer to that better than anyone, which was why hooking up her cellphone via Bluetooth to her newly leased SUV was one of the top items on her expansive to-do list. But having read a text message ten miles back while at a traffic stop, she decided to feign ignorance.
“As a matter of fact, yes. No hand-held cellphone use in your vehicle.”
“Oh, well … I just moved into town.”
“Where from?”
Ugh. He had to ask. “Boston.”
He stared unblinkingly at her. “It’s a state law. Which means it was illegal in Boston, too.”
Dani felt her smile—and her hopes for a quick resolution to the issue at hand—instantly fade.
“Can I see your license and registration.”
Now that’s a statement and definitely not a question. Dani gingerly handed him both items. “Um, I don’t mean to rush you or anything since I know you’re just doing your job, but I have a very important client meeting at nine a.m., and I really can’t be late for it.”
“Is that so,” the officer said unsympathetically as he peered up from studying the license. “Should’ve thought about that before driving almost twenty miles over the speed limit then, right?”
Dani opened her mouth to protest, but thankfully nothing came out. Something told her it would have been a big mistake otherwise.
“Sit tight. I’ll be back.” Sunglasses once again in place, he headed to his navy Ford Explorer.
Dani looked at her watch: 8:37 a.m. She hummed, twiddled her thumbs, rehearsed her next court hearing arguments in her head, then checked the time once more: 8:53 a.m. “What the …” She silently filled in the rest of the sentence with a string of words, all of them four letters long.
“Here you go.”
Dani jumped in her seat as the officer suddenly appeared at her window and handed back the license and registration. By now, it was clear she would be late for the meeting.
“Isn’t everything done electronically now?” she asked impatiently.
“Excuse me?”
“You were back there for almost fifteen minutes. It can’t take that long to plug my name into the computer and see that I have no record.”
He stared at her for several moments before handing over a ticket. “Well, now you do.”
Dani nearly gasped with incredulity. She swiped the ticket from his hand with such ferocity that a breeze rippled through the air.
“Can I go now?” she hissed, wondering if she would still have a job once she finally arrived at the law firm.
“Yes. But keep an eye on the speed limit.”
Dani fought the urge to peel off in a haze of screeching, smoking tires. Instead, she lightly tapped on the gas pedal and rolled back onto the highway, her perfectly planned day now derailed thanks to Officer Grumpy. Does that guy even know how to smile? She glanced in her rearview mirror, the object of her derision growing smaller as she steadily picked up speed. Heading into a sharp bend, she looked back in the mirror once more. He was gone. Good. Go ruin someone else’s day. Eyes firmly focused on the road and both hands gripping the steering wheel, she allowed one more grumpy cop thought to seep through. And, um, try not to look all uniformed hot guy while you’re doing it.
◆◆◆
Half irritated and half amused, Sergeant Nick Bellamy shook his head as he watched the maroon SUV putter on down the road. Typical uppity city slicker trying to masquerade as a suburbanite. He had seen it many times, especially in the last few years with the
growing influx of relocated Bostonians. The city’s burgeoning population, gridlock commute and skyrocketing real estate prices meant that towns even a good 20 to 30 miles outside of the city had become lumped into the ever-expanding “greater Boston area.” In the case of Cedarsville, 28 miles southwest of Boston, the transition was still relatively new, which meant that peppered in with all the recent, high-priced housing and retail construction were still some remnants of farm country, especially on the further outskirts of town. It wasn’t unheard of to drive out of an exclusive neighborhood with high six- and seven-figure homes, head several miles in virtually much any direction, and find yourself meandering past a still-operating dairy farm. Given that these agricultural landmarks had been grandfathered into the new city zoning laws, Nick figured it was just a matter of time before they disappeared from Cedarsville altogether, replaced by yet more overpriced construction. But he, for one, sure wasn’t in a rush for that to happen.
Meanwhile, new town occupants continued to pour in, telling anyone who would listen (or not, for that matter) that they had decided to flee the rat race of the city. Trouble was, once a rat, always a rat, and they weren’t necessarily ready to jump off the fast-moving treadmill. Nick had lost count of how many times he had pulled over motorists for driving at nearly twice the speed limit, only to find the object of their dangerous urgency was a double latte at the nearest Starbucks. Still, he had to admit this latest metropolis escapee was one speeding driver who could rev up even the rustiest of old engines. With silky chestnut hair, a porcelain complexion and light green eyes, she was a looker all right. He glanced down at his copy of the $125 speeding ticket to reacquaint himself with her name.
“Danielle Rae Scott,” he read aloud. “Nice to meet you,” he chuckled, turning back to head to his Explorer. “But speed through my town again … and the fine will be tripled.”
Chapter Two
Dani half sprinted up the steps of the large modern office building that housed several prominent businesses, including Schulman, Heinz & Associates. Established 30 years ago in Boston, the in-demand law firm had expanded into several satellite offices throughout New England in recent years, with this latest Cedarsville location as much an effort to accommodate its co-founder, Leland Schulman, as it was to meet a burgeoning greater Boston client list. Now empty nesters, Leland and wife, Gloria, had added to their multiple real estate properties with a newly built luxury condo overlooking Cedarsville Country Club Golf Course, and they had been spending more and more time at their latest acquisition. Since the new location opened at around the same time Dani had been looking to put down roots, she jumped at the chance to leave the daily grind of a Boston commute behind, buying her own starter home in town and doing most of her work out of the Cedarsville office.
Glancing at her watch one last time as she fumbled with her key card, Dani buzzed herself into the reception lobby and hightailed it down the hall to her office.
Margaret, the office manager, was sitting on the end of Dani’s desk and sipping a cup of coffee as Dani entered. “You’re late, kiddo,” Margaret needlessly informed her.
“Believe me, I know,” Dani replied breathlessly as she hurled her oversize work bag on the least-cluttered side of the desk.
Sliding down, Margaret grabbed a second cup of coffee off the desk and handed it to her. “Here. It’s just the way you like it. Black and bitter.”
“Thanks.” Margaret knew a lot about her, and not just how she preferred her coffee. The two had known each other since sharing a dorm room back in their undergrad days at Boston University. It seemed like a lifetime ago, with then-uber studious Dani striking up the unlikeliest of friendships with wild child Margaret. Yet, here they were, still friends more than a dozen years later and now working together. At least Margaret had mellowed quite a bit since those early days as coeds.
“Hey, did I show you my hickey?” she whispered loudly, yanking down the front of her shirt to reveal a grotesque purplish patch at the top of her collarbone.
Or maybe not. Dani shielded her eyes. “Why are you showing me this—especially now? I need to be in that new client meeting.”
“Forget it. Leland took Jeremy with him instead.” Margaret paused for effect. “You know Jeremy. He’s the little brown-noser who would love to have been made a partner instead of you. Even though he’s still a junior associate.”
Dani scrunched her lips. “Yeah, but a junior associate who was top in his class at Harvard.”
“Please.” Margaret rolled her eyes. “I still don’t know how that’s possible. Have you ever actually talked shop with him? He’s like the male version of Legally Blonde. Without the cute Chihuahua.” She nodded to the cup that rested in Dani’s hand and had yet to touch her lips. “Have some caffeine. It’ll calm you down. Oh, and Leland said—and I quote—when Dani gets here, tell her that her ass is in a sling.”
Dani’s near gasp was quickly silenced by a frown. Oh really? Leland was her boss and it was understandable that he was upset, but still. “I don’t think you can say that kind of thing in the workplace anymore.”
Margaret furrowed her brow as though she shared Dani’s concern, then threw back her head and burst out laughing. “Yeah … like where have you been working for the past five years? And by the way, why weren’t you here at nine? It’s not like you to be late.”
Dani sighed. “I got pulled over for speeding.”
“You’re kidding—of all mornings!”
“Believe me, I know. And the cop was kind of a jerk. I told him I was going to be late for an important meeting, and I swear he dragged things out just to make sure that was the case.”
She shuddered as an image of Nick flashed in her mind, though she had to admit it wasn’t entirely a distasteful picture. Despite their unpleasant encounter, she could still be objective enough to concede that he was one heck of a good-looking guy. All of which made his hard-ass attitude and unwillingness to cut her some slack that much more of a shame.
“Did you try flirting with him?” Margaret asked. “I’d be on the FBI’s most wanted list right now if I hadn’t charmed my way out of about fifty traffic tickets in the past ten years.”
“Why, Officer,” she cooed as she slipped into character. “Was I really going that fast? You know, I think what happened is I could feel my black, lacy garter belt slipping down my leg, and I must have accidentally hit the gas pedal when I tried to shimmy it back up over my taut, naked thigh.”
Dani rolled her eyes as she struggled to keep a straight face. “You’re awful. Go away.”
“I’m telling you—it works every time.”
“There are plenty of female police officers now, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
“So what do you do then? You can’t exactly sleaze your way out of a ticket in that scenario.”
Margaret guffawed. “Please. I tell them I was speeding because I was on my way to host a sold-out sex party where I teach women how to have an orgasm that lasts an hour.”
“An hour? Is that even a good thing?”
“They seem to think so. Instead of asking for my license and registration, they’re asking me for sex tips. So I give them a few suggestions—all of which involve handcuffs, of course—and voila. Before you know it, I’m driving off ticket-free, and let’s just say some poor guy no doubt ended up with a very sore pair of—”
“Stop,” Dani insisted, not believing a single word of Margaret’s over-the-top claim, but still wanting to spare herself from the ball-crunching details. “Anyways, now that my morning plans have changed, I might as well make use of the extra time. If you need me, I’ll be researching some cases in the library.”
“Lunch?”
“I have a court hearing at one, so I’ll probably grab something on the way.”
“I did see that earlier on the master schedule. Sean Colby. Lucky you, defending some rich guy’s spoiled—and no doubt guilty—kid.”
Dani flashed a perturbed glance, though she knew Margaret
had a point. Leland had personally asked her to represent the 17-year-old son of his good friend, real estate mogul Gunther Colby, in a case of texting while driving. Given that it was his third such offence, Sean was at risk of losing his driver’s license for a year if convicted. She had met with him earlier, and of course, he had proclaimed his innocence. But the fact that he had refused to make eye contact and was texting on his phone while telling her this didn’t exactly bode well.
“Has Leland said anything to you about the hearing?”
“He stopped by my office at the end of the day yesterday and said, ‘I’m counting on you to get him off.’”
“Hopefully, he meant it in a legal way.”
It took several seconds for Dani to get the gist of Margaret’s remark. “Not funny,” she replied, though she snickered nonetheless.
◆◆◆
The morning flew by as it always did when Dani was engrossed in her work, and at 12:50 p.m. she was seated next to Sean at the defendant’s table in Middlesex County Court, a mid-sized courthouse that handled traffic cases from a number of communities in Southeastern Massachusetts.
As she glanced over at her sullen client, Dani’s eyes popped open. “Put your phone away!” she demanded in a whisper that was one octave short of menacing.
Slouched in his seat with an equally couldn’t-care-less attitude, Sean tapped away for several more seconds before looking up with a sneer on his lips. “Why?”
“You’re on trial for texting while driving,” Dani continued to whisper out of earshot from the state prosecutor on the other side of the aisle. “I’m supposed to say that of course you weren’t texting—while the judge can see you’re sitting here doing exactly that. Do the math, genius.”
“You can’t talk to me that way.”
“Oh no? Then go ahead—keep texting and lose your license. See if daddy can buy your way out of that one.”
Sean’s mouth dropped open, only to pop shut as the judge spoke his name. “Next we have the state versus Sean Colby.” She looked up from the file in front of her. “Will counsel please approach the bench.”
