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“That guy was from Alpine Energy?” She frowns, shaking her head. “You’d think they’d leave Dakota alone. Why were they here?”
“Aren’t we full of questions today?” I smirk, cocking my head slightly.
Her skin darkens in a blush, but she doesn’t drop her gaze, or apologize, and I give her a handful of points for that.
I’m also being an ass. I run a hand over my hair. “It’s a busy day, and I’m in a mood. They no doubt came to size up the small-town lawyer. They’re not finished, and I’m sure they’re about to try to play dirty in order to get the land.”
“Do you need to bring in a bigger firm?”
I stand and stalk up to her. “No, I don’t. I work in a small town. I’m from here. I went to fucking Harvard. And I could have worked anywhere. I did for a while, but just because I didn’t choose the cutthroat world of high-profile firms doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own against them. I’m more than meets the eye. And I’m a fucking good lawyer. If they want to get down and dirty, I’m here for it. Got it?”
“I didn’t mean . . .”
“You did, and that’s okay.” I touch her cheek. “And I’m hoping they do the same. I like it when they underestimate me. I can learn a lot that way.”
Then I step back, and she releases a breath.
Touching her is the kind of danger I love. But I’m also at work, and while I’m not above bending someone—with red hair and a ‘fuck you’ attitude with that seductive hint of ‘take me’ she has about her—over my desk and taking them hard, now isn’t the time. Even if she was ready for that, which she isn’t.
She hands me a file with papers poking out. I take it and dump it on the desk behind me. “I should go.”
“You should stay and tell me why you need a lawyer. You know I’ll find out, and like I told you the other day, I find out another way, there’ll be consequences.”
“Why do you even care so much?” she scoffs.
“I don’t know, because I do?”
She huffs out a breath. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“Why? You’re smart, pretty, stubborn, prickly, and you’ve got that Dakota stamp of approval.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“What is it you want from me?” I ask quietly. “It’s something.”
“You’re wrong. I don’t want anything. Not from you. Not from anyone else.”
I narrow my eyes. “How about I rephrase that? You want me to admit something or you’re mad, but I don’t know what it is or why.”
“It’s in your head.” Her voice is slightly too high, like I’ve touched a nerve, or maybe she’s lying and she’s the kind of complicated I keep away from.
Complicated is baggage and webs and all kinds of paths that mean more than just good time, naked fun.
And yet . . .
Here I am, poking and prodding like I can’t keep away.
I need to head out of town and get laid.
Yeah, but last time I left town, it was offered on a platter and I turned it down.
Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis, and I’ve barely hit my mid-thirties. Damn it all.
“I don’t think so.” I touch her hair, winding it around my fingers. “You’re a mass of contradictions and complications, and I can’t keep away and neither can you. What are we going to do about it?”
Before she can answer, my door opens.
A man is there.
