Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
She groaned and downed the rest of her vodka tonic. What was she thinking? Not straight, apparently.
She had work to do and needed to concentrate. She also needed to think about the vibrator at home in her bedside drawer and not the man who still stood at her table, too stubborn to give up.
She shoveled another forkful of salad into her mouth and went back to typing up the brief she needed for court tomorrow. If she ignored him long enough, he might simply go away.
And take that temptation along with him.
She almost cried in relief when he finally turned.
Damn, he had a nice ass, too.
No, Reese. No. Bad boys equal bad news.
“Hey, don’t forget your beer,” she called out and pushed the full pint glass to the other side of the table. “And the vodka tonic, too. I don’t accept drinks from strangers, and I don’t want you wasting your money.”
He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression as hard as stone. “Why? ‘Cause you don’t think I have much?”
“I don’t care if you do or don’t. Not my business.”
Nick nodded and picked up the beer but left the drink where it sat. With a jerk of his chin, he said, “Have a good night.”
Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be a good night. It would be a long, shitty one since she was behind on her cases. Having to deal with her sister’s mess, on top of everything else, had put her at a disadvantage with her workload. While her sister depended on her to fix her mess, so did Reese’s clients.
Dealing with clients paid her bills, dealing with Reilly cost her time and money.
She sighed, staring at her now empty glass. Her gaze slid to the full one the man named Nick left behind.
She hated herself a little as she lamented how it would simply go to waste if she left it there. But she also worried that drinking a second drink while she was only eating a salad might get her a bit loopy. She still had a bunch of paperwork to do for her case tomorrow, so she needed to be sharp.
She looked up from the vodka tonic to the man who once again sat at the bar. Watching her.
Her. Not Bambi, who was flitting behind the bar near him, trying to get his attention.
She sighed again and reached for the drink. She lifted the glass in the air toward him as a silent thank you.
With a grin, he lifted his beer and chin toward her in answer.
Then he turned and went back to eating what she could only imagine was a very cold burger and fries.
She went back to working on her brief while she finished her dinner and drink. The next time she looked up, he was gone.
Standing in the shadows right outside the Mill Creek Bar & Grill, he felt like a stalker. He remained out of view of the blonde who exited and headed the opposite direction of where Deacon waited.
He’d been out there for a good half hour.
He knew better than to wait. In truth, he knew he had no shot with her.
But still...
Something about her made his blood hum and his balls tighten.
Why he was leaving behind available pussy to chase unavailable pussy, he didn’t know. He must have lost his fucking mind.
Thrill of the chase, maybe.
More like stupidity.
Even in those heels, she had no problem navigating the badly lit sidewalk past the front of the bar, across the opening of a dark alley and onto another sidewalk. Two doors down, she paused, dug in that huge black bag of hers and pulled out what, even in the limited light, he could see was a set of keys. She disappeared out of his view when she went inside whatever business was there.
He waited a few seconds before following the same path and stopping at the corner of the one-story brick building she had entered. The business she had disappeared into had two picture windows with the blinds closed and a solid painted wood door in the center.
He dug his cell phone out of his back pocket, hit the power button and lifted it to read the carved wood sign hanging next to the door.
Law Office of Reese Ackerson, Esquire.
Law office. Esquire.
Her being an attorney wasn’t surprising. The way she dressed, her confidence, her no-nonsense attitude fit most attorneys he knew. She seemed slick and smart, too.
“Reese Ackerson,” he said under his breath.
Ackerson.
He quickly scrolled through his phone and pulled up a document, searching it until he found what he was looking for. For the reason that last name sounded familiar.
R. Ackerson, LLC.
He frowned. Could it be one and the same? Was this the connection Reilly Porter knew? The person who was hiding her?
To be positive, he would need to follow her from her office to see if she drove back to that house up the mountain.