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“Jacob, I’ve known you most of my life, right?”
Jacob grinned. “Since elementary school.” He was a few years younger than me, but everyone knew Jacob because he was always in trouble. It seemed he hadn’t grown out of that.
“Now listen, your parents are good people. They do a lot for you.”
Jacob nodded; his face now somber. “Yeah, they do.”
I patted his shoulder. “Then stop being such a royal fuck up. Save your mother some grey hairs and get your crap together. They won’t always be around to bail you out. Get a decent job. Find a nice girl. Find a nice guy. Start a family. Or don’t. But the only way to stop being called a dumb ass is to stop doing dumb shit. Is that clear?”
Jacob gave me a hangdog look but seemed to hear what I was saying. And when his parents came over and thanked me effusively, I waved it off, though I was loving the praise. Everyone likes to be told they did an awesome job.
It was when I was packing up my bag that I heard him behind me. I startled, not realizing he was there.
“That was some stellar advice, right there. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
I turned around to find Jeremy standing behind me, his hands tucked into the tailored trousers that fit him too damn well. His expensive suit jacket was open, and his tie was loose around his neck. He looked for all the world like he belonged on the runway. He didn’t quite fit in the rural, backwoods world of Southport Pennsylvania. He seemed to be something exotic. Something unattainable.
And he came. Even after I told him not to.
“I told you not to come,” I said stubbornly, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
“Yeah, well it seemed wrong for no one to be here to bear witness to the beginning of what will, no doubt, be an illustrious legal career. I wanted to be able to say twenty years from now that I was there at the start.” He grinned and I couldn’t help but grin back. He wasn’t saying those words to be sarcastic. He meant every one of them.
My stomach flipped over and my chest tightened. Jeremy Wyatt was the moon and my emotions were the tides. He affected me in ways that I didn’t like or understand. He could cause blinding rage one minute and unbridled lust the next. I never knew if I wanted to hit him or kiss him. If I wanted to hold him tight or push him away. Most of the time I wanted to do both. He infuriated me, but he also challenged me. He made me feel good about myself. He made me feel special and desired. He also made me feel as if I were losing my mind half the time.
“I hope I didn’t make an idiot of myself then. Now that I know I had an audience,” I remarked drolly.
Jeremy held the door of the courtroom open for me, waving me ahead of him. I wondered if he did so just so he could check out my ass.
The feminist in me bristled. The horny bitch in me wanted to put an extra swing in my step.
Jeremy said hello to numerous people we passed on our way out of the courthouse. He introduced me to several other attorneys practicing in town as well as the county clerk. It was obvious he knew everyone, and everyone knew him. And it was obvious that he was well-liked. He made everyone smile. He and my brother shared the same easy charm that put people at ease. I could see why they worked well together.
Once we were outside, I zipped up my coat and Jeremy got out his car keys. We stood on the sidewalk, neither of us moving to leave.
“Congratulations, Lena. You really did an amazing job,” Jeremy said, using my preferred name. Though, deep down, I think I preferred when he called me Marlena. There was something about the way he said it that made my toes curl. Sometimes in rage. But oftentimes in liquid hot desire.
As I said, he made me crazy.
“Thank you. But you really helped. Especially with the advice about objecting. Nolan looked as if his head was going to pop off his shoulders every time I did it.”
“Told you. He can’t handle it when his flow is interrupted. It’s like he short circuits.” Jeremy jiggled his keys in his hand and looked at the time on his phone. “So, I know you’ll probably shoot me down, but what the hell. Can I take you out for a drink? It’s after five, so I won’t feel as if we’re a bunch of alcoholics.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but he continued speaking.
“To celebrate. It would be a shame to not commemorate your first trial. More importantly, your first win. I’d really like to get you something you like. And I figured booze was the surest way to your heart.” He chuckled nervously.
