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I shake my head, unsure I want to hear the reason, but sure I’m going to hear it all the same.
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“You really are good with the feelings. Always so accurate.”
“Cap,” I prompt.
“I’m not sorry because I’ve missed you this afternoon,” he says, dropping a nuclear bomb all over my heart. “And I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
The line clicks over to dead air, and my head swims in much the same.
Apparently, he’s done giving me nothing.
And now, he’s replaced it with a big fat fucking something.
Cap
I spot her in the middle of the park. Tight black jeans hug her hips and thighs in a perfect display of curves, and a cute pink sweater dips just slightly off one shoulder while her long mane of blond hair is draped artfully over the other. She sits on a bench, bent over at the waist, giving a tail-wagging dachshund scratches behind both its ears.
The dog looks smitten, and I don’t blame it. Ruby Rockford is hands down one of the most interestingly beautiful women I’ve ever seen—and I’ve seen a whole lot of women.
Unfortunately, when I follow the leash up from the dashing dog, I find a man—a fairly attractive, thirtysomething man—smiling flirtatiously at my…assistant.
“Ruby,” I call, waving with a wink when she looks up.
I’m not sure she realizes it, but when her eyes meet mine, the corners of her mouth curl up in a smile and spur my heart into a quick and steady rhythm.
I maintain my stride as she exchanges goodbyes with whatshisface, and I arrive just as the nameless, dog-using woman-chaser walks away.
I don’t acknowledge him, though. The quicker she forgets he ever existed, the better.
“A dog park?” I ask once I sit down beside her. “That’s the place you had in mind to meet?”
“Yeah? So?” She shrugs one nonchalant shoulder, as if meeting in a dog park is a completely common practice. “You got a problem with dog parks?”
“Well…not going to lie, it’s the absolute last place I’d expect to do business,” I respond, and a soft, amused chuckle turns my voice husky. “And I’ve done business in a lot of places.”
Stubborn as always, she quirks a challenging brow. “By do business do you mean business? Or do you mean sex?”
“Sex?” I smirk innocently. “Oh my goodness, Ruby. I’m positively scandalized. What a dirty mind you have.”
She rolls her eyes, and I rest one arm on the back of the bench.
“For the record, I’m open to either option.”
“I didn’t say there was an option.”
“Oh. In that case, I guess I mean business. Regular, boring, plain old lawyering…in a dog park, of all places.”
She sighs and shrugs. “I come here whenever I have free time. I like to visit the dogs.”
“Visit the dogs?” I ask. She nods. “You mean you don’t have one?”
“No.”
“So, you just come here to the dog park without a dog?”
“Yep.”
“You just stop in all the time…here at the dog park…sans dog?”
“Stop saying it like that!” She slaps a hand against my chest. “It’s not that weird.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, doll, it is. It’s fucking adorable, but it is strange, strange, strange.”
She huffs, annoyed now, and I focus in on the little hard line between her eyebrows. It’s an imperfection—a crack in her otherwise smooth skin—but I think it might just be one of the most endearing things I’ve ever seen.
“Here are your dumb contracts,” she pouts, and I laugh as she hands them to me. “And I didn’t even have to get Mr. Porvost loaded up on tequila and cherries or hire a redheaded hooker to get them. Go figure.”
“Very impressive, thanks.” I lift the contracts to my nose and wince. “Though, I’m not sure he wanted them to smell like dog…”
My shoulder rocks back as she shoves it.
“Don’t be a jerk!”
“A jerk? Moi?” I shake my head. “Never.”
She snorts.
“Women love me,” I add.
“Oh, I know,” she grumbles. “I know wayyyy too intimately about the way women love you.”
“But not you?” I ask with a smirk. “You’re completely unfazed by my charm?”
“I wouldn’t say unfazed,” she muses. I perk up and waggle my eyebrows. A secret little grin settles into the pointed corner of her mouth. “I feel nauseated by it at least three times a day.”
My smile grows as hers does. She’s amused herself greatly, and I have to admit, I’m enjoying watching her bask in the glory—even if I am the butt of the joke.
“Proud of that one, huh?”
“You bet,” she says, waggling her eyebrows up and down. “I might even take this show on the road. Forget the books. Forget law school. I’m going to be the next Netflix comedy special.”
A wistful sigh leaves my lungs. “I hear life on the road can be hard…”
“I’ll adapt,” she says easily, looking around the park and smiling every time she sees a new dog. “I’ve done it before.” She snorts. “Well, not the stand-up comedy, but life on the road.”
