POSEY
I’m not sure what possessed me to ask Ivy to come to work with him, but I’m glad I did because the first thing I see is his real name on the sign in front of the building.
Justin Whitaker.
That’s a good name. A really good name. He doesn’t bring his bike to the office, either. He’s wearing a suit, and he drove to the office in a black BMW sedan. It’s sexy as hell, just like him.
Seeing him all dressed up, I realize that his tattoos don’t appear while he’s in his suit and tie. It’s like they’re a little secret just for me. I know it’s not just for me. It’s silly to even think that, but I can’t help it. I decide to have a little fantasy all to myself and just pretend.
The car stops next to a white Lexus, and I can only assume that the man who owns it is the other attorney listed on the sign in front of the building. I don’t ask that, though. Instead, I wonder what the hell I’m really doing here. I should have stayed back at the clubhouse and just sucked it up for the day doing whatever.
Ivy rests his wrist on the top of the steering wheel after shifting the car intoPark. Sinking my teeth into the flesh of my bottom lip, I watch him, waiting to hear whatever it is he’s going to say. He seems to be serious, and I can’t help but wonder what it is he’s going to tell me or, rather, instruct me.
“I have some meetings today. So I won’t be able to hang out all day long with you. But my cousin is also my secretary. You’ll like her, and if I can’t get a break for lunch, you two can go down to Lainey’s bakery and get something there, hang out with Lainey, and maybe even baby Nathan if he’s there.”
Keeping my teeth firmly pressed into my bottom lip, I watch him for a long moment. I don’t know how to respond to any of that except to tell him that I shouldn’t have even come. His brows snap together, and he shakes his head once before I feel his hand cup my cheek.
His thumb slides along my bottom lip before he clears his throat. Leaning forward, he touches his mouth to mine. I part my lips, and my breath hitches as I wait for him to deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t. Instead, he speaks.
“I wanted you here today, Posey. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have brought you.”
With that, he’s said what he’s said. He shifts his body backward, drops his hand from my cheek, opens the car door, and unfolds from his sedan. I don’t move, watching him straighten his jacket as he moves around the front of the car before my door swings open.
Ivy holds out his hand for me, palm facing upward. When I slip my fingers in his, he curls them around mine, holding on to me as I shift my legs around and place my feet on the asphalt parking lot.
Slowly, I stand, smoothing my hands down my skirt. I don’t know what possessed me to pack all my skirts and nice tops for this trip, with only a single pair of jeans and a few shorts.
I really wasn’t thinking… No, I take that back. I was thinking. What I was thinking in my panicked brain was that if Lucian came to my place and tore it apart, I didn’t want my nice clothes to be ruined.
Again, my thoughts lean toward the selfish—always.
At least my outfit doesn’t feel out of place here at a law firm. Ivy keeps my hand in his as he moves toward the door. Together, we slip into the building.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s really nice. The carpet is a deep blue, the walls are white, but there is a tinge of blue inthe paint color. There is gold abstract art on the walls, and the furniture is all leather, a soft doe-skin brown color. Everything looks rich and supple.
When he stops in front of a closed door, I know he’s going to show me his office. I’m not sure why, but this feels monumental. It shouldn’t matter if I see his office or his car, but this feels personal.
“When my father retired and I took over as the partner, I kept his desk and bookcases. The only thing I bought was my own chair,” he says as he twists the knob and gently pushes the door open.
Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I can’t help but feel that this is intimate. I know it’s his office, and I’m sure a lot of people go in and out of here on a regular basis, but it’s still his personal space.
Ivy walks into the room, then steps to the side. I suck in a breath at the sight of the space. It’s beautiful. The desk is a large wooden piece that has a computer monitor sitting on top, a wireless mouse, a notepad, and a pen. Nothing else.
The bookshelves have tons of what appear to be old law books lining them. There are two leather club chairs across from his desk, and the light from the window spills in, making it seem brighter than it probably is.
And when I turn around to look at the wall behind me, I am surprised by the piece of art that greets me. It’s directly across from his desk, so it’s something he looks at when he lifts his head, and I don’t know why, but it intrigues me.
“It’s beautiful, the whole place,” I say.
“It’s Giovanni Baglione: An Allegory of Charity and Justice Reconciled,” Ivy murmurs, walking up behind me.
I feel his body close to mine, but I can’t look away from the painting. It’s hauntingly beautiful. Ivy’s fingers curl around mywaist, and he holds me before he bends slightly, and I feel his lips touch the side of my neck.
Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh right before there is a knock on the door that interrupts the whole sexy scene.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IVY