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That was the proper way a southern woman addressed such matters. The ladies from Steel Magnolias would be proud. Though, rebel Ouiser would’ve said ass without blinking an eye. She’d always been my favorite too.
“Do I have to call him Mr. Johnston, or will J.J. be okay?” Jared flinched at my made-up nickname for him.
“Jared is acceptable,” he said, the stick lodged a bit higher. J.J. it would be. This could be fun.
“Got it, J.J.” Esmé released a burp worthy of a drunken sailor, giving my reply a perfect exclamation point.
“Um, I need to speak with you for a moment, Mag—Miss Talbot. In private,” Lucas said, leading me to one conclusion; this conversation wouldn’t include J.J. Pity.
“Yes, Mr. Shaw?” I said his name like it was drudgery to do as he bid. He shook his head, scolding me with a look. I gave him an innocent shrug.
J.J.’s face didn’t hide the shock of how I interacted with Lucas. He had a lot to learn about me. I spoke my mind. I rose from the chair, walking toward J.J.
“This is Esmé.” I lifted her up in the crook of my elbow so he had a better view. J.J.’s mouth formed an O, or he silently said wow. I wasn’t sure. But I was sure of one thing, Esmé’s eyes were a dead giveaway that Lucas was her father—and J.J. knew it too.
“Yes, here’s the baby,” Lucas said with all the warmth of a glacier. What is his problem?
“I’m going to let you get better acquainted with the baby, J.J.” I placed Esmé in J.J.’s arms, helping him hold her securely. He had a slight tremor in his hands, and from the look on his face, I wasn’t sure he’d ever been more scared in his life.
“This is in case she loses her breakfast.” I laid the cloth diaper over his shoulder and gave it a little pat. “Have fun.”
“Um…” J.J. muttered as brown eyes darted from me to the baby. He was earning his pay and then some.
“My office. Now,” Lucas whispered into my ear.
His words and close proximity gave me a warm rush in all the right places—or wrong ones since we’d agreed to be “just friends,” which was my least favorite f-word at the moment.
I almost preferred fighting with him as my foe. I got to see his passion when he was angry. Maybe that was why I acted this way toward his assistant. I wanted Lucas mad at me. The subconscious wanted what it wanted. Sorry, Selena Gomez for twisting your song, but psych majors dealt with the mind, not the heart. And this man knew how to flip my switch.
“Yes, sir.” I toned down my attitude, sounding more like a submissive scolded by her Dom.
I passed by Lucas, heading to his office down the hallway. He trailed right behind me, giving my ass a tap as we left J.J.’s sight. I wanted to tell him most friends didn’t go around spanking each other, but I wasn’t about to complain. I loved it.
I peeked over my shoulder as I entered his office. Lucas’s eyes had darkened, like this morning when he stood by the bed, his icy blues smoldering at me.
Lucas shut the door, leaning against it and crossing his arms over his chest. His pointed glare told me one thing, I was being a bad girl and he was about to set me straight. Awesome news. Truly.
“Nice shirt.” His remark wasn’t a compliment.
“Thanks. The sunglasses give the llama a cool vibe, don’t you think?”
“Have a seat.” Lucas’s lips formed a straight line. He was giving nothing away.
I plopped down in the closest chair and put my feet up on the edge of his desk. I was wearing my fancy sequined Crocs again. They fit into the surroundings of his plush office perfectly.
He glanced at my sandals, then narrowed his eyes at me. Ground control, Magnolia Talbot pushed Lucas’s buttons. I wondered if Lucas might give me another round of corporal punishment.
“Were you raised in a barn?” Lucas asked, his gazed still pointed hard at me.
I couldn’t stop from smiling at his question. My mother had a genuine hen house so she could serve fresh eggs at her bed-and-breakfast.
“Kind of.” I dropped my feet to the floor, and he leaned against the desk where I’d just had my sandals. His legs stretched out for miles, crossing at the ankles. In this position, I couldn’t miss his nicely defined thighs. Strong and athletic…and distracting.
“You’re familiar with the term pecking order, right?” he asked, his long fingers gripping the edge of the desk.
“Sure.” I nodded, uncertain where he was going with this.
“Good. I’m paying you to take care of the baby. Correct?”
“Attorney Shaw, I’m enjoying your cross-examination.”
Lucas grabbed the leather arms of my chair, making me jump. He leaned forward, towering over me, caging me in. I got a heavy dose of his cologne and held in a groan. He smelled good enough to lick. Why couldn’t he forget about the stupid buddy system we agreed on? Barclay would get over it. After all, Lucas and I were consenting adults.
