Page 38 of Happy Is On Hiatus
“I guess that look means you want one.”
“Or two.”
She waited a beat before stepping aside and saying, “Go ahead, the line’s right there.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the way shock mixed with what he probably thought was clever charm played across his face. It didn’t stop him from being sexy as hell, though.Dammit.
“Here,” she said, opening the bucket. “Take three. We’ll call it a tip for good attorney services. I mean, you did track me down while I was at work when you could’ve just sent a letter to my house.”
He took the three cookies, lifting them to his mouth to take a bite out of one. “That’s not normally how I like to tell someone their father passed.”
She shrugged. “It would’ve been fine with me.”
“Because you didn’t like your father?”
“Because my father was an asshole who didn’t deserve anyone liking him.” That sounded harsh even to her, but she didn’t take it back. And now she was feeling uncomfortable for a totally different reason. This guy really did bring out the worst in her. “Anyway, I should be going.” They’d covered all the topics they had in common.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“Um, I don’t need an escort, and I’m not leaving the mall yet. I still have to find a bathing suit.” And she probably could’ve kept that part to herself because the look he was giving her now was definitely not one a lawyer or even a casual acquaintance should be giving.
In what seemed like a lifetime but was probably only about ten seconds, his gaze had gone from her face to her breasts, over her hips, down her legs, and stopped at her toes, which of their own accord wiggled as if to say “Hey!” Her cheeks warmed as mortification mixed with annoyance.
“Would I be stepping over the line if I asked to join you in that quest?” He asked the question with such a straight face and serious tone that she almost believed he had no idea what effect he was having on her.
Hell, she didn’t believe this shit herself. She didn’t fall for charming guys, and she damn sure didn’t let looks pull her in the way his seemed to be doing. And why, in all that was right with the world, was this happening right here and right now? She’d met Desmond two weeks ago and not one time—okay, well, yeah, once or twice—had she given any thought to how attractive he was. She was more focused on hating him for bringing Sanford back into her life.
“That’s probably unethical. You are my lawyer, remember?”
He chuckled. “I’m talkin’ about accompanying you to a store, not ripping your clothes off and making love to you.”
The way her pussy just jumped at his words was all the way ridiculous. “You’re kidding, right?”Please, oh my damn, be kidding.
Now this grin he was giving her was definitely a sexy-and-I-know-it smile. If she weren’t who she was, she might’ve swooned. Instead, she smirked.
“Just come on before the mall closes,” she told him and started walking. “And for the record, yes, this is unethical as hell.”
And she wasn’t talking about him just mentioning making love to her—his client. No, she was more entrenched in the instant picture of them tearing each other’s clothes off and going at it like they were coming off a ten-year celibacy stint.
At ten minutes after nine, Sharae stood at the end of her bed, staring down at the three bathing suits with tags still attached. She’d always preferred a one-piece suit, and the white one at the end was that—of course, it also had a couple of peekaboo cutouts on the left side. One that would show the navel piercing she’d gotten for her thirtieth birthday, and another that may or may not display a bit of side boobage if she wasn’t careful. Her breasts tended to have a mind of their own when she wore anything other than her favored button-down shirts, and even then, depending on what time of the month it was, there could be some straining against the buttons.
Switching her attention to the next suit, she marveled at the color: black. It would always be her favorite color for any clothing item. But it was a two-piece—a high-waist bikini that would cover her piercing but expose every inch of her cleavage and possibly a shadow of nipple, which was the part that made her most nervous.
The final one was a push-up plunge bikini in a brilliant cobalt blue. It was by far the most risqué choice for her because it would definitely require another shave. She didn’t have time for a waxing appointment tomorrow—she was getting her hair braided in the morning, and that would take the majority of her day. Then, because she’d been severely distracted at the mall, she hadn’t gotten the gift for Wendy like she was supposed to and would thus have to go back to the store again.
Jemel was driving, which meant they might have a slight margin of not leaving at precisely four o’clock as they’d planned, but not much. Traffic on the Bay Bridge on a Friday afternoon in the summer was gonna be horrendous, and the later they left, the worse it was going to be. Which was why she’d planned to do all her shopping tonight.
Desmond had thrown a big ole sexy-ass monkey wrench in that plan.
“This color will look great with your complexion,” he’d said as he’d held the hanger with the blue bathing suit attached.
The strings of the bikini were tied neatly to the hanger to make a nice presentation, but there was so little material to it, the store had used a dozen of those clear thingies to keep it from falling off. She hated those things because she never failed to leave one attached, and it would scratch against her skin the entire time she wore the new garment.
“There’s not much to this one,” she’d replied, already over the way his eyes were devouring her body each time either one of them picked up a bathing suit to peruse.
“There’s enough,” he’d countered.
And then she’d done something she rarely ever did. She flirted.
