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The car hums to life and glides down our dirt driveway like it’s floating on a cloud. I watch his hands, strong and capable, on the controls. A prickling of heat between my legs makes me squirm.
I need to distract myself. “Where did you go to law school?”
“Harvard.”
My jaw drops open and I snap it shut again before he can notice. “And you’re practicinghere?”
“I did a few years in New York. If I’d wanted a life of eighty-hour work weeks and never seeing my family, I could have stayed, gone for partner.”
He makes the turn onto the state highway that runs into town. The car accelerates smoothly, and I feel the power hidden beneath its sleek frame. “But money was never my ultimate priority,” he continues. “So I put in my time, worked my ass off, learned a hell of a lot, and came home to start my own practice.”
“I think a lot of people would have said goodbye to this town without a backward glance, especially for the chance to live in the Big Apple.”
“It’s a hell of a city. There’s a lot there to appreciate. It just wasn’t for me, in the longrun.”
“You must be really close to your family.”
“They’re a hell of a family,” he says, and I laugh. “Seriously, though. I missed them every single day that I wasaway.”
He says it with unfeigned affection, and I get a funny feeling in my chest. Sexy, smart, and loyal too … the man’s much more than fantasy fodder.
