Page 24 of Cocky Counsel

He nodded and closed his eyes for a second.

“She passed away last year. Heart attack.” He paused for a moment before he continued. “She never missed mine or my brother’s birthday. Every year she would bake us a cake and would always pick the perfect gift for us. It was crazy how she just knew what that perfect gift was. Hell, half the time I didn’t even know what I wanted, let alone needed. But she always knew.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, she sounds like she was an amazing grandmother.”

“She was the best.” His voice sounded strained as he looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“My mom told me that my grandma knew that she wasn’t going to make it to my next birthday. She just had a gut feeling that her time would come before then. She was determined to give us one last gift,” he said as he lifted the box in the air.

“I can give you some privacy if you want to open it,” I offered, turning to go back to my office.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.” He shook his head, setting the box down on his desk where he had found it. He pulled in a deep breath then puffed his cheeks with air as he slowly let it out. I could see his fingers tremble slightly as they worked to open the box.

I could feel the weight of the emotions that were radiating from him and desperately wanted to go over and hug him. Anything to take away the pain that was so evident on his face. He slowly opened the lid to the box and looked inside, a sad smile spreading across his face as he picked up the piece of paper that was laying on top and read it.

I kept my place at the door, staying quiet so I didn’t ruin his moment. A few seconds later, he laughed and looked over at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

He reached inside and pulled out a jar of peanut butter and set it on his desk. Next, he pulled out a package of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a handful of chocolate bars, setting them down in a line in front of his keyboard.

“When I was six years old, my parents separated after my mom found out that my dad was having an affair. We moved in with my grandma while my mom tried to get back on her feet again. I was too little to understand what was going on or why everyone was constantly so mad and yelling at each other. One day, my parents were having a massive fight when my dad came to my grandma's to talk to my mom. They just kept yelling at each other, non-stop, for what felt like hours. My brother was sixteen at the time, so he left with his friends and I was stuck there by myself.” He stopped for a second and clenched his jaw at the memory.

“I was hiding under the kitchen table when my grandma got home and found me. She didn’t know that my dad had come by or that my parents had been fighting but once she saw me, she knew that something had happened. I was so scared to come out that she had to lure me with chocolate. After I finally came out, she sat me down at the kitchen table and went to the pantry to get the stuff she needed to make s’mores.”

I smiled as I listened, feeling the connection that he shared with his grandma.

“As I got older, my parents were constantly at each other’s throats and I wasn’t shielded from it. My brother was off getting into trouble of his own, and I was left to fend for myself. Every time my parents would have a blowout, my grandma would sit with me in the kitchen, and we would make s’mores. One day when the fighting was the worst, she grabbed a jar of peanut butter and added it to our pile. She said, ‘sometimes in life, the messier things get, the better they are in the end’. And from that day on, we never ate s’mores without peanut butter.”

“That’s an incredible story,” I said quietly. “And I totally get it,” I laughed. “I would never think to add peanut butter to something that’s already messy. But I love the way she looked at it. The mess is totally worth how delicious it must be.”

“Indeed, it is,” he replied as he started loading everything back into the box.

“So, where does the birthday boy want to go for lunch?” I asked when he was finished, hoping to lighten the mood for him.

“Do you like sushi?” he asked, following behind me as we walked out of the office. I waited while he pulled the door closed behind him and locked it. I debated whether to say no, that I couldn’t stand the thought of eating raw fish, but I didn’t want to ruin his lunch since it was his birthday. He laughed and playfully nudged my arm with his elbow as we waited for the door to the private elevator to open.

“I’m just teasing,” he said as we stepped inside. “I would never take you for sushi when you are barely holding food down. But I do know a place a couple of blocks away that has the best egg drop soup, and if that doesn’t sound good, there’s a cozy little diner across the street from it that should have chicken noodle soup.”

“Both sound good to me,” I said cheerfully. “You’re the birthday boy so whatever you want to eat is fine with me.”

I felt my cheeks flush after I said it. The pure innocence that was intended when I said it, quickly forced out by this undeniable chemistry that radiated between us. His eyes darkened, proof that he had heard it the way I hadn’t meant for it to come out. The elevator doors closed, and I watched as his eyes hooded, a look of desire flashing in his eyes. My breathing grew shallow as I watched him, waiting to see what he was going to do. His hands clenched into fists at his side as he slowly shook his head.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he growled before he turned to me and wrapped his hand around my waist, pushing me back against the wall. His mouth was on mine, his tongue swiping across my lips as it begged for access. My chest heaved as my fingers scratched up his chest, eager to touch him. And just as suddenly as the kiss started, it ended when the bell chimed, and the doors opened to the lobby downstairs. We pulled apart and stepped out of the elevator before anyone could see us. My lips tingled as I scolded myself on our way to the restaurant. I knew that I couldn’t get involved with a guy like him, yet I was finding it almost impossible to stay away.

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