Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said flatly as we crossed the floor together to the couch. She pulled the phone out of her bag that was basically holding that plus a lipstick and her ID.
“I know we just met, but you were totally my guardian angel, which was awesome.”
“I—”
“And you’re prettier than me and most of my girls.”
I scowled at her. “Men don’t want to be called pretty, believe me.”
“Sucks to be you, then,” she scoffed, arching an eyebrow before taking in my expression and giggling with relief. “Thick brown hair and big blue eyes—yeah, you’re really pretty.”
“Listen—”
“And your lashes are to die for,” she said, moving so she could look at my profile. “Damn. Even with falsies on, mine aren’t that long.”
“Would you call me already so I can store your number,” I ordered, giving her a gentle annoyed shove away from me that caused a snort of laughter. “And turn on your location so I can find you.”
“You have to do the same.”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
She smiled at me. “You have to follow me on TikTok and IG as well.”
“Whatever,” I said with an eye roll and got a gentle elbow jab in response.
We perched on the back of the couch, and I looked at her TikTok as she explained who the other people were in some of the photos.
“Who’s the guy carrying you on his shoulders?”
“Jesse,” she whispered, blushing.
I grunted.
“Janey?”
Her father stood in front of us, not glaring at me, but it was a close thing.
“Hey, Daddy,” she said softly, standing too as he leaned sideways so she could reach his cheek to peck. “It’s a great party. Your people are all super nice, especially Pax.”
He nodded, taking in the dress, the heels, the makeup. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, he’s dope,” she sighed, smiling at me, looking utterly smitten before she left, taking off one shoe, hopping for a moment, and then the other, before she turned the corner and was gone.
Mr. Somerset stepped close to me, arms crossed, making sure I couldn’t run, effectively caging me there, still perched on the couch. What made it okay was that I could have easily scrambled over the back of the lovely piece of furniture to safety if that became necessary. Which it wouldn’t—of course it wouldn’t—but my brain needed the safety net.
“It’s Paxton, isn’t it?”
“Yessir,” I replied evenly, putting my feet on the floor so he had to make room or crowd me. Thankfully, he edged back as I straightened to my full height, still having to tip my head to hold his gaze. “I work for Colton Gates.”
“That’s right. He brought you with him from the state’s attorney’s office.”
“He did.”
He gave me a grin then, the one that deepened the laugh lines in the corners of his lovely peaty-brown eyes. Handsome man who gave off a feeling of stability and fun, kindness and money, all at the same time, and of course I understood why every woman who came into the office, our clients, always watched him walk by when he deigned to be on any floor but his own.
“So,” he said, studying me, “what made you strike up a conversation with my daughter?”
It was his focus, singularly on me, plus the serious tone, that made my flight reflex kick in. And logically I knew he wasn’t going to grab my arm and make me tell him. He wasn’t about to hurt me, but I took two steps to the left anyway, so that my back was to the room and no longer the couch.
“Are you all right?” He tipped his head, and I heard his tone change from questioning to a trace of worry.
“Yessir, I’m fine,” I answered too fast, ending up having to exhale slowly so I didn’t begin either stuttering or hyperventilating.
I was so much better with women, kids, and dogs. And cats. Cats were good too.
Shit.
“Paxton?”
Double shit. He sounded concerned. “If you’ll excuse me for a second,” I said, and tried to slip by him.
He caught my arm, and instantly I felt my face heat, my stomach fill with ice, and a noticeable tremor ran through me. I wasn’t having a full-blown panic attack, but it was close. As usual, even as it happened, I had to try and identify the trigger. I was betting it was his height and his proximity, but I would need to think about it again later when I could breathe.
TWO
Poor Mr. Somerset, he looked terrible as he took a step back from me, but even that small amount of distance helped. Leaning over, hands on my thighs, I closed my eyes and counted.
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he asked softly, concerned, maybe even a bit unsure, like I might barf on him or his polished hardwood floors. Both, seemingly, of equal concern. For all he knew, I wasn’t house-trained. “Maybe you should come sit down on the couch.”