Page 24 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“And what if I had?”

He closes the gap between us. “I would have kept trying until you said yes.”

I place my hand on his chest, my fingers linger on the top button of his dress shirt—torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer to get a better look.

With his striking blue eyes, tailored suits, and air of authority, he’s the epitome of sex appeal, and I wish he didn’t have such a profound effect on me.

Like he can read my mind, he shifts forward, his nose grazing mine, the air between us humming with electricity.

“I’m trying to be good, Ms. Taylor,” Dawson murmurs, his breath hot against my mouth, daring me to close the last sliver of space between us. My fingers curl into his collar and every fiber of my being tenses in anticipation, caught between a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Just when I think he might bring his mouth to mine, he reaches over to press the button for the top floor. “I almost forgot. Can’t imagine why,” he murmurs, an uncharacteristic smirk playing on his lips as the elevator begins its ascent.

I take a step back, visibly shaken.

That was a close call… too close.

I’ve got to get my hormones in check, or I’m going to be in serious trouble. There would have been no plausible explanation if someone had found me pressed against my boss with my hand on his collar.

I run my hand through my hair, doing my best to compose myself before we reach our floor. When the elevator chimes, the doors slide open, and Dawson holds out his hand. “After you.”

“Thank you.”

On my way to his office, I pause when I notice the desk and chair set up just outside. My belongings, including my laptop and monitor, are neatly arranged on top, accompanied by a glass vase of sunflowers, baby’s breath, and eucalyptus.

I gently touch a sunflower petal as I inhale the fresh scent. “The flowers are lovely.”

They remind me of the bouquets my grandpa used to bring home every Friday for me and Grams. He knew how much I loved them—I was constantly doodling flowers in my notebook and on my sneakers. Even when money was tight, he always made sure he brought an arrangement home for us both.

“I’m glad you like them,” Dawson says, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Why don’t you try the chair.”

As soon as I sink into the cushion, I groan. “This is amazing. Who would have thought a chair could be this comfortable.”

“Last week, I passed your desk on the way to a meeting and saw that you were shifting uncomfortably in your other chair. I wanted to make sure you had something more comfortable. This one is ergonomic and custom-designed.”

I stare up at him, speechless.

He noticed?

On my first day, I had a decent office chair, but when Rob saw it, he insisted we swap. His chair was old and had little cushioning left. He could have asked for a new one but chose to inconvenience me rather than deal with the replacement process.

Dawson’s unexpected kindness is touching, and I shouldn’t read into it, but it’s hard not to. It’s another example of him going out of his way for me when he doesn’t extend the same effort to everyone else.

He is such a contradiction—a man who commands authority and berates those who fall short. Yet he orders me a custom chair and buys me flowers to make me feel more at home in my new space…

Dawson clears his throat, breaking the silence. “I have a call with a client. You should get back to work. I’ll let you know when I need you.” He strides past me, shutting his office door behind him.

Okay then.

A notification from our team chat system pops up on my laptop—it’s a message from Grace, the paralegal I met at the all-hands meeting during my first week. We chat occasionally during those rare lulls in between projects.

Grace:Glad we’re on the same floor now. It’s nice to have a friendly face around!

Reese:Thank you! Happy to be here.

Although I’m relieved to be away from Rob, my encounter with Dawson in the elevator proves that being near him every day isn’t a good idea. We’re strictly co-workers who kissed once and now almost a second time, but I’m determined not to blur the lines between our personal and professional lives further. Now, if only I could stop thinking about what might have happened if we had more time alone in the elevator.

Grace:When I went by your desk earlier, I saw the bouquet. They’re stunning.

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