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I’d left shortly after midnight with a cursory goodbye and thanks, striking him from my mind completely. Never expecting to see him again.
But here he is.
“Hello. You must be Miss Morrison.”
It isn’t Nick who speaks, but an older version of him.
“Collin Weaver,” the man introduces himself, hands behind his back. He looks down his nose at me, which is comical since I’m a couple inches taller than him. If this is Nick’s father – which I assume is the situation – Nick’s height clearly didn’t come from this side of the family.
I stutter out a greeting and move to the table, putting down the folder, a legal portfolio, tablet, and pen. Collin Weaver looks completely unimpressed and I feel out of my element.
My eyes keep flickering to Nick, who looked momentarily shocked, but has now recovered. He sits perfectly still and straight, hands folded in his lap. And he looks as delicious as he did the night we hooked up…
Clearing my throat awkwardly, I gesture at the chair at the head of the table. “Please.” Collin Weaver sits.
“This is Nicholas and Vanessa.”
Blinking, I turn to my left. I hadn’t even noticed the woman in the room. She sits all the way at the other end of the table, eyes narrow, as far away from Collin Weaver as she can be. Vanessa is younger, maybe only a few years older than me. Her honey-colored hair is perfectly coiffed and she taps light pink nails on the tabletop rhythmically.
Her gaze goes to Nick. And then it hits me – this is his wife.
He has awife!? Fuck.
Horror and humiliation rush through my veins. Oh, lord. What did I do? I slept with a married man. At this moment my life can’t get any worse.
But this punch to the gut is exactly what I need to get back to my professional role here. Smiling politely at Vanessa, I settle into the chair across from Nick and open the folder.
“Why don’t we get started?” I ask, pulling out the necessary forms.
Chapter 3
Nick
In.Out.In.Out.
I take deep, slow breaths, trying to compose myself as I look at the woman seated across from me.
As she speaks about the basic information needed and what this initial meeting is for, I can’t help zoning out.
Blair is dressed almost exactly as she was the night we met in the bar at The Grove. Only today, her skirt is dark charcoal, and the blouse a deep wine with long sleeves that cuff at the wrist. Her face is plain, with minimal makeup, and her hair is up in a tight bun.
My fingers itch to pull that bun down.
It’s impossible to concentrate when I’m reliving that night I spent with Blair two weeks ago. After having spent the last fifteen years as a bachelor who rarely is in the company of a gorgeous woman, that night with Blair was close to earth-shattering.
“Does that work for all of you?” she asks, eyes moving to each of us… and jerking away oddly when she looks at Vanessa.
Mindlessly, I nod, having no idea what I just agreed to. Blair is all professionalism now, every inch a lawyer as she slides paperwork to my father, myself, and Vanessa. She’s circled and highlighted certain sections and phrases.
But that wasn’t what I saw that night at The Grove. No, I saw a woman falling apart. So, what had drawn me to her?
Sitting back in the chair and frowning, hopefully looking attentive, I think back to that short time in the bar. When Blair walked in, I’d been having a nightcap, ready to head home. She’d stumbled into the room wide-eyed and flushed, groaning when she sat, head in her hands.
The sass.That was it. I’d only made a passing comment, but the bite of Blair’s response had taken me by surprise. She was clearly playing a part, and I’d guessed that her personality was actually more on the quiet and shy side. So, I’d picked at her a little bit. To see if the bite was all bark, or something more.
Blair threw snarky remarks right back, but she’d accepted a drink, which intrigued me. And when I’d looked at her properly it was hard to deny my attraction to her. She was taller than I usually liked, but curvy enough to be a handful.
In the conference room, my eyes drop to the tabletop. Do her legs look as good right now as they did that night, wrapped around my hips? I had a sneaking suspicion at the time that, like me, she didn’t do that kind of thing often. She was sotight, so explosive that her eyes actually rolled back when I pressed my abs against her clit, her back against the shower wall.
