“Did you just use the phrase, I’ll never hit a lady, but I’ll slap a bitch? Oh, my God, Jason, that was classic! You are officially my new hero.”
He rubs at his neck and walks over to sit on the edge of my desk, grabbing my hand and placing it on his chest. He rubs my palm over the fabric of his shirt. “Sorry. I need your touch to erase the fact that she had her demon claws on me. And I was only trying to piss her off by saying that. I don’t hit women, not even thoroughbred bitches like Una Harris. And don’t listen to her, by the way. There’s nothing about you that needs changing.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes me catch my breath, but I can’t address the compliment. It makes me feel too much. “I can’t believe she came here. What is she on?”
“A whole medley of uppers and downers, if my detective work is anything to go by,” Jay deadpans. “Anyway, let’s forget about her. I came to take you to lunch in the park. This day is a sight for sore eyes.” He goes out to the hallway, and retrieves a brown bag with sandwiches and two takeaway coffee cups.
“Oh, you really do know the way to a woman’s heart. The double-C: caffeine and carbs.”
“Yes, yes, I do. Now get your cute ass out of that chair and come with me.”
“Is this…what do you call those things that you don’t do, but for me you’ll make an exception? Oh, yes, a date. Is this a date, Jason?” I love teasing him.
His mouth curves in an almost smile as he brings his hand to my neck and gently squeezes. “It might be.”
He offers his arm, and I take it. Instead of driving, we walk to the park, finding a clean picnic table to sit down and eat at.
“Who’s Mr Scott?” I ask as I sip on my coffee.
Jay gives me a sideways glance. “Say again?”
“Una Harris said that Mr. Scott will offer you a sum of money to drop the case. Who is that?”
“Right, yeah. Brian Scott. He owns the newspaper.”
“I’ve heard that name before. He’s like Ireland’s answer to Rupert Murdoch or something, isn’t he?”
“Or something.”
“Is there any amount of money they could offer you that you’d take? Just out of curiosity.”
His mouth draws into a thin line, his answer immediate and final. “Nope.”
“There’s probably no point in bothering with mediation, then.”
“Probably not. But we’ve got to go through the entire process, Watson. Let them think they can take us. You know, like in a freak fight when some little rangy guy gets into the ring with a big hunk of muscle. Everyone thinks the muscle will win, but then the little guy turns into a fucking tornado and surprises the shit out of everyone.”
I smile at his analogy. “So, are you the little guy?”
His arm slides around my shoulder, tucking me into the side of his body. “In comparison to The Daily Post, yes, I am.”
I melt at his closeness and take a slow bite out of my sandwich before glancing up at him. “You know what, Jay, I can’t wait to see you turn into a tornado. I think you might have it in you to surprise us all.”
His only response is a small, knowing smile, and we eat the rest of our lunch in companionable silence. On the way back to the office, Jay gets recognised by a couple of women as they pass us by.
“Disgraceful what he did to that poor man,” one of them tuts, her snooty nose raised high into the air.
“He should have been arrested,” another one adds.
I lace my fingers with his, running my thumb along the inside of his wrist. “Ignore them.”
“I am.”
“Everyone thinks their opinion is the most important, even when they have no clue about a situation.”
“I know.”
As the women go by us, I pull him into an alcove by the shop next to our offices. His eyes are on the retreating women for a minute before he focuses on me, his pupils dilating. I remember him telling Michelle that was a sign of arousal. Hmm, I think I like that.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He runs his fingertips over my collarbone. “Hey, Watson. What’s up?”
“Can I have a kiss before I go back to work?” I ask shyly, licking my lips.
He grins and bends his head to me. “That depends.”
“On?”
“What are you making for dinner?”
I wrack my brains for ideas on what he might find appealing, settling on the most obvious man food. “Steak.”
“Good answer. Okay, you can have a kiss. Just one, though.” His licks a line from my jaw to my earlobe, sending my pulse hammering. Then he grips my chin and sinks his tongue into my mouth. My breathing accelerates as I clutch at his shirt. His tongue moves in and out, and it’s a little lewd for a daytime outdoor kiss, but in the moment I don’t care. I moan, and his other hand grabs hold of my hip. Drawing away too soon, he nips at my mouth, and I whimper.