Page 13 of Bound Hearts

“My mother got it for me.”

“I kept something special too. I haven’t unpacked them yet since my move, but my parents got me fifty of my favorite case studies when I graduated from law school. The perfect number for an at-home bookshelf. Nothing screams stereotypical lawyer like dark books with gold lettering on the spine,” I joke. “But seriously, it’s sentimental. That’s a lot of expensive law books for one wall.”

“When my mom gave it to me and told me every desk of a sophisticated man should have one. It’s elegant yet can calm you in a fucking crisis. Her words exactly.” I hear him smile when he explains.

“Love that.” Glancing over my shoulder, he’s near but stopped to give us some distance. “Coconut pie and this. Sounds like a great woman.”

A wave of sadness tints his face. “She was.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to rem⁠—”

“Nah, it’s okay.”

I shouldn’t ask, but I feel compelled. I’m not sure we’re two people who make small talk on the surface; we can dig a little deeper, as we have that natural comfort with each other. “May I ask what happened?”

“You haven’t checked the internet? It’s probably the first thing to pop up. Or maybe Elodie or Savannah said.”

“No. I’m not one to search for gossip on the internet. I’d much rather hear it from the source.”

He comes to sit against the edge of his desk to be side by side with me. “She had a brain tumor. She found out, and a few months later, she was gone.”

I gently touch his arm in comfort. “That’s devastating.”

“It was, it is.” He seems at peace with it. I go mute because I’m not sure how to respond. He throws on a grin, determined to change topics. He bumps his shoulder into mine. “So, you haven’t talked at all about me with Elodie?”

Simpering to myself, it’s almost cute the way he is fishing for me to sing his praises. “Should I have? No need to be cocky, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“It doesn’t. Nor would I ask her if you have some sweatshirt from an ex-boyfriend’s law school still in a box somewhere.”

I snicker at his thought. “Nope. I’m not one to hold on to things if they've run their course and are done. Emotions have their own place, only to be unlocked when you want them to.”

“Ah, now I’m positive that you and I are aligned even more.”

“Perhaps.” We might go in a circle, chasing each other until someone captures what they want.

Except it’s obvious that we might desire the same thing. Deciding it is the right time to exit our encounter that yet again flows so easily, I smirk at him as I begin to walk away, purposely including a slow, sensual sway, not looking over my shoulder but aware he’s surveying my every move.

His voice sounds. “I know a spot with great tiramisu. Can’t tempt you with dinner?”

Some things we need to get out of our systems. Whatever is transpiring between us is one of them.

“I did mention a possible raincheck last time.” I don’t turn around yet.

“I still owe you a tip.”

My mind is completely filthy because I imagine what else that could mean, and it involves him.

Turning on my heel, I see that he hasn’t moved, his smirk still perfectly in place and his eyes set on me.

“Maybe I’ll cash in on that raincheck now.”

“Good.” He seems satisfied and moves around his desk. “I know a place. I can meet you downstairs in ten minutes. I’ll have my driver waiting.” He doesn’t look up as he closes up his laptop, as though our work meeting is adjourned.

I chortle at that sentence. “Of course you would say that. But you know we could walk somewhere or order in.”

“Sutton, sweetheart, you and me alone in a room is a dangerous play.” His voice swelters.

“I’m not afraid of danger,” I challenge confidently.