Page 4 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“Did you design these?” I ask, waving toward the wall.

My fingers hover over the image of the wolf, they graze the glass and trace the delicate linework of its fur, in awe of the intricate details. Cole is an enigma, and I’m fascinated by how he can be so unapologetically outspoken, even abrasive, yet still possess an uncanny ability to create something so beautiful.

He approaches from behind, standing close enough for me to feel the heat of his body, and the scent of leather and sandalwood surrounds me.

“Yeah, I did,” he says, his voice low.

I turn my head back to look at him. “You’re exceptionally talented.”

While I enjoy doodling simple floral designs, these are on a whole different level. Despite his gruff demeanor, Cole’s art offers a glimpse into another side of him, stirring a curiosity inside me that I want to explore.

I tug my lip between my teeth as I study his work. I’ve never considered getting a tattoo until now, but seeing his artwork makes me curious what it would be like to get one. To feel his strong hands on me, his touch firm and confident as he marks my skin.

I’m about to shake off the idea as impractical and impulsive when Kevin’s words echo in my mind.

At least you’re predictable.

He might have considered it a compliment, but I didn’t see it that way. I never take chances or confront things head-on, preferring to stay in my comfort zone. But what if, for onenight, I was adventurous? To prove to myself I can do it. Then tomorrow, I can go back to my predictable ways, having had a taste of living on the edge.

I spin around to face Cole. “I’d like you to give me a tattoo,” I declare, sounding more confident than I am.

He rears back like he’s offended. “No.”

“Why not? You’re a tattoo artist, it’s your job,” I remind him. “And I’m a paying customer.” I hold out my purse with false bravado.

I’m not sure what a tattoo costs, so I’m hoping the fifty dollars I set aside for new sneakers will cover it.

“For starters, we’re closed.” He motions to the dimly lit room.

“Oh, come on,” I protest, tugging my shirt up to reveal my hip. “What about a butterfly right here?” I point to the bare skin.

Cole rolls his eyes. “A tattoo is meant to be personal and should tell a unique story. Don’t shy away from choosing something that’s special to you, even if it’s somewhere only you can see.” I swear his gaze burns hotter, but I brush it off as my mind playing tricks. “But don’t be a damn sheep when it comes to permanent ink.”

My eyes drift to the compass tattoo on his forearm. The detailed blackwork is a network of fine lines and shading, creating a masterful design. I can’t help but wonder what the story is behind that one.

I let out a humorless chuckle. “Are you always this warm and friendly to clients?”

“Worse. Consider yourself lucky that I’m turning you away.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I mumble under my breath.

“Looks like you’re a magnet for jerks tonight, huh?” He rakes his fingers through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Where did you meet that guy anyway? He’s a real piece of work.”

I adjust my purse, hiking it up my shoulder, and glance at the ground. “A dating app.”

Which I’m deleting asap.

“That’s where you went wrong,” Cole points out. “People can pretend to be anyone online, but in real life, they rarely measure up.”

I hold my finger up in challenge. “There’s one problem with your theory.”

He raises a brow. “Yeah, and what’s that?”

I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. “I met you the old-fashioned way, and you’re a jerk too,” I say with a smug smile.

It’s strange how they share similarities yet are so different. With Kevin, I left at the earliest opportunity, but with Cole, I’m looking for any excuse to stay.

“I might be a jerk, but at least when I’m on a date, the woman has my full attention and respect.” My traitorous heart beats faster as he draws closer. “If I were him, I would have taken you to a rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the city and ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne.” Cole leans in until our noses almost touch. This close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes, how his gaze burns with intensity, but rather than feel intimidated, I’m intrigued. “And at the end of the night, I would have kissed you until neither of us could think straight,” he adds in a whisper, so low I have to edge forward.

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