The Client(40)

Go out there, the voice of reason said. Give him the name of your old firm and recommend a couple of people.

That was what I should do.

The lawyers at the firm I’d left were excellent. One or two had even branched out on their own and could offer more privacy than a large firm could.

But I knew I wouldn’t send him away.

After another moment, I selected the two résumés from the pile and took them with me to the door so my hands would have something to do. Taking a deep breath, I opened it and stepped out with a brisk smile on my face. “Hello, Mr. Gorham.”

He turned and met my eyes, offering a short nod in greeting. His eyes didn’t linger on my mouth, and he didn’t stare at me hungrily the way he had in my dreams.

I didn’t let myself stare at him. But I wanted to.

Looking at Haley, I handed her the résumés. “See if they’re available sometime this week for an in-person interview.”

“Of course. Shall I bring in coffee?”

I looked at Paxton.

“No, thanks.”

I desperately needed the caffeine fix, but I shook my head at Haley. It might be better if I didn’t have anything to add to my nervousness.

As he passed by, I caught a headful of his scent and my mouth started to water. I closed the door and allowed myself a quick look at his ass before clenching my fingers and forcing myself to focus.

“Have a seat, please.”

Calm and collected. Good for me.

He went to the chair near the window, so I settled on the couch and waited for him to start.

It took almost a minute for him to say anything and I had to force myself to hold my silence. It was harder than normal and the nerves were insane. I couldn’t ever remember feeling like this around a client and again, I told myself I needed to suggest he find another attorney.

I could just picture him asking why and me being brutally honest.

Because you’re too fucking hot and I keep picturing the two of us naked together.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

He spoke abruptly and the words, delivered right in the middle of my mental scenario, had heat rushing to my face. I covered by reaching for the ever -present notepad I kept on the table in front of the couch. “Just what are we doing, Mr. Gorham?”

“Paxton.”

It took all the professionalism I had not to react in a way that made it clear the thing I wanted to do was him. I smiled. It wasn’t the professional smile it needed to be, but it didn’t scream let’s get naked either.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t call me Mr. Gorham. It’s just Paxton.” He shrugged, looking restless as he leaned back in the seat. It drew the material of his jeans tight across his thighs – and other parts of him. For a quick moment, my gaze fell away and once more, heat began to rush through me.

Fortunately, he began to speak and it brought my mind out of the gutter. “I need to start filing proceedings for the divorce, figuring out what we need to do so I get custody of Carter.”

“Alright.” I made a couple of notes.

“I don’t want to keep Brinke away from her altogether.”

Glancing at him from under my lashes, I saw that he was staring past my shoulder, one fist pounding absently on the arm of the chair. “She loves our daughter, she’s just…not exactly a good influence, and I can’t risk her endangering Carter again.”

“Supervised visitations might be the best for a while, until she’s gone through rehab and shown she no longer presents a danger.”

Paxton opened his mouth, then closed it. A moment later he blew out a sigh. “Yeah, fine. Okay.” He rubbed his hands over his face and when he lowered them, he slid his eyes my way. “We have to keep this quiet. If Brinke finds out too soon, she’ll…” He tilted his head back against the chair. “She won’t take it well, okay?”

“Is she likely to do something that could pose a danger to Carter or herself? You?” It was a standard question, one I never liked having to voice, but that didn’t explain the unusual cold feeling I got in my belly at the thought of something happening to this man or his daughter.

“She won’t take it well.” Paxton got up to pace and ended up by the window, staring outside. “She’d never set out to do something that would hurt herself, our daughter, or even me, I don’t think. But she’s reckless and doesn’t think things through. When she gets mad, she gets a little stupid.”

“Very well.” I tightened my grip on the pen, staring hard at the paper until my brain settled. Then, after scratching out a few more notes, I looked up at him. “Keeping it quiet isn’t an issue. It’s fairly standard.”