Page 29 of Her Christmas Wish
No answer was forthcoming, which was why she had to get her butt in gear, do her best work and get him out of her brother’s cottage and back into his own life.
Blissfully apart from her and her small family.
But...he liked kids.
“You’ll like Leigh.” The words that finally made it out of her mouth were not at all what she’d been about to say. “She’s astute beyond her years, and so innocent at the same time.” Thinking of her daughter brought genuine joy to her heart. A smile to her lips.
And cleared her vision, too.
“If she makes her way down to you, she’ll probably just start jabbering. She won’t talk to a stranger, but I’m going to tell her tonight that Uncle Scott has a friend staying with him, so she’ll likely make an excuse to check you out.”
Gray’s brows rose. “Check me out?”
With a chuckle, Sage said, “She has a system for weighing the people in her midst. You won’t know it, but she’ll come home and tell me what she finds.”
Gray sat back, his hands on the chair arms, as they’d been the day before. “Such as?”
Sage shook her head, brimming with humor as she met Gray’s gaze. “I never know. One time it washe stinks. I thought she meant the father who’d brought a new child into her day care was a bad guy. Turned out he had on some cologne that she didn’t like. Another time she told me a lady had crossed eyes. She meant that the lady looked like she was in a bad mood—you know, cross. She has a friend who bubbles up a lot. And no, she didn’t mean burps. Kaylee starts laughing with her mouth closed and then opens it...and she laughs a lot.”
Gray’s expression sharpened, and she realized that she’d been going on as though they were friends. Not very temporary professional associates.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly inserted. “You didn’t need to hear all of that.” Never, in all her years in practice, had she ever lost sight of her professionalism in such an overt way. Even when her own associates asked about Leigh. Which was why it wasn’t good to mix business with conflicts of interest. Once she got him going, if he chose to remain with her firm as a paying client, she’d be turning him over to one of their other lawyers.
“No need to apologize.”
His kindness, the personal look in his eye, as though they were two people who were friends, shook her up again. “It was unprofessional.” She could hardly tell him she didn’t usually do that. Though she wanted him to know that her professionalism was never, ever an issue, she didn’t want to give him any sense that he was messing with her equilibrium. So she finished with, “You stiffened, and that look in your eye...”
He was still looking at her. Like he knew her. “Your voice...it’s the first time I’ve seen the real you in more than ten years.” He stopped. And when she said nothing, added, “It was nice.”
Itwasnice.
She couldn’t share that thought. Or let it become something. Wasn’t sure she could trust herself, not at the moment. And, out of desperation, she said, “So, you like kids. Does that mean you’ve finally come to the realization that having them wouldn’t be the kiss of death?”
The question was bald, bold and wholly inappropriate. She sat up straight behind it, taking him on.
She had to know. Not because she expected a change of heart. If the man wanted kids and a family, as gorgeous and kind as he was, he’d have them.
She’d been rude because it was the only way to ensure her defenses.
“No.” He didn’t blink, didn’t even have the decency to look away as he delivered the succinct, one-word answer.
Almost as though he knew.
And wanted to ensure that the walls she’d put up against him remained firmly intact.
The “session” ended as abruptly as it had begun. Sage had asked him if he had anything that needed to be said, any requests or requirements. He’d repeated the “no” he’d just issued on the other topic.
And the business meeting began. He signed a ton of papers. Met a couple of attorneys who would be advising Sage where appropriate and was told that either of them would be happy to represent his new firm once he was ready to hire a corporate attorney.
After they left, Sage gave him a portfolio filled with everything he’d signed and walked him to the door.
“I want to make one thing clear,” she started, and Gray braced himself.
But didn’t back away. Maybe he should have. Enough was enough. He needed to hand her back the paperwork and walk away. In any other situation, with any other person, he was certain he would have.
Which meant that he should have done it with her, too.
Instead, as he took a couple more steps with her, he waited out Sage’s silence, curious to hear what else was bothering her. What other concerns she had about him.
