“Yes I do.” She raises her chin in defiance, and I can feel my blood heat.
This is the Bronte I fell in love with. The first day she came to my office, I was done for. Her spine was straight, her shoulders were back, and she was all too eager to tell me where to stick my arrogance. Never had I been so completely undone by someone, but this tiny little thing came in and put me in my place so easily it was like I’d been waiting for her to do it. Now I can’t seem to function without her by my side.
I pushed her too hard and too fast, and she ran for the hills. I guess it’s too bad I followed her over them. Not only did I hunt her down in the middle of nowhere, but I set up shop. I also might have paid off a few other law firms to release her from her contracts. What can I say? If anything, I’m determined.
Bronte busted into my life with unruly curls, loud colors, and a disposition so sweet everyone adored her. Then she ran out on me and left my life cold and meaningless. This is fair play as far as I’m concerned.
“You can lie to yourself, teapot, but you can’t lie to me.” I lick the sauce off my thumb, and I see the way she watches my mouth. “I know you hate being in that house all alone day after day. You need sunlight. Come work for me and you can have any office you want.”
“Fine, I want yours.” I know she’s saying it to piss me off, but it makes me grin from ear to ear.
“Deal.” I take out my wallet and leave enough cash to cover this meal twice over.
“Wait, no, I was joking.” She starts to protest when I get up from the table.
To be a good lawyer, you have to be able to win an argument. What most people don’t realize is that sometimes to win an argument all you have to do is shut up at the right moment.
“See you in the morning, teapot.” I wink at her and ignore everything else she says as I stride out the door.
Chapter Three
BRONTE
I fix my gaze on the front door of Marcus's office. Why did he have to pick this spot? I have always thought it would make the perfect office space for a lawyer. It’s tucked away nicely in the center of town, but the front windows face outside so you can see people as they pass by. It’s also right next to the bakery. The idea of popping in each morning on my walk into work had me daydreaming of making it a reality. It’s like he climbed inside my imagination to make it come true. Only Marcus can’t seem to get it exactly right.
The blinds are closed on all the windows, and even the glass on the door is covered. I’m sure they might need to be closed when there are clients visiting, but why is it shut so tightly right now? Being locked down like this means no one can get the tiniest peek inside.
I pull at the collar of my cardigan. Today it’s pink with hearts on it to go with the dress I’d gotten for Valentine's. It’s not Valentine's yet, but I wanted to wear it nonetheless. I wonder what Marcus will think of it. I huff, annoyed with my own thoughts of him.
This is a bad idea. I shouldn’t have come, but here I am. Marcus has some kind of strange pull that always lures me to him. I tried to get away from him when I moved out of the city, but then, poof! He appeared right around the corner, and now there’s no escaping him. I need to suck it up and face this situation head on. I can be an adult! I stiffen my shoulders before pulling open the front door and stepping inside.
"I thought I was going to have to come and get you." I let out a scream as the lights flicker on.
"For cheesecakes! You almost scared my soul out of my body." I glare at him. "You won't get it that easily."
When I bring my hand to my chest, I can feel my racing heart. It’s definitely because he scared me and not because he's so handsome. Always so dang handsome. It's maddening, really, and for half a second I wonder if he sleeps in his suits.
“I always get what I’m after.” A slow, sexy smile plays on his lips. It’s wicked, and he knows it. Worse, my body knows it.
“Well, with the fees you charge, I would hope so.” I raise my chin. “I would think you’d also be able to keep the lights on too.”
“Easy, teapot. I only just got here.”
His response has me wondering where he lives. This is a small town, and I know all the houses. At least I think I do. I was gone for a few years, but there’s not exactly a lot of new construction.
“Where’s my office? I’d like to set up.” I tap the giant bag I have on my shoulder. It’s freaking heavy, and I want to put it down.
“Does that thing weigh more than you?” Marcus tries to take the bag from me, but I have a death grip on the strap. “Are you sure you want to play already, teapot?”
“I’m not playing anything.” Or am I? I’m starting to wonder myself. I could let his comments roll off me like water off a Maine Coon's back (I’ve heard their fur is water resistant), but for some reason I can't help myself. Marcus pulls at the bag, making me fall right into him. I should step back, but this feels like a challenge. “What are you doing?”
“I want the bag, but you won’t let go. It seems you leave me no choice.”
What does that mean? My inner thought is answered when Marcus lifts me right off my feet.
“Ah!” I squeal, and then I’m unable to form words. “You, you, um...” I struggle to think of a name to call him, feeling too flustered with my body pressed into his. The man is hard all over and smells so good.
“Do you have something you want to call me, teapot?” he asks as he carries me toward an open door. “I can give you a few options. How about ‘lover’?” I scoff and roll my eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Okay, what about ‘husband’?”