Page 7 of Resisting the Lawyer (Dirty Hot Resistance 3)

It’s as I’m making sure that none of her arms and legs are entangled in an uncomfortable position, that I catch Lucas staring at me with unhidden fascination. “What is it?” I ask, wondering if I have something on my face.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll drop you off. You don’t have to take the bus.”

“What, no!” I protest.

He grabs me by my shoulders and starts propelling me towards the door. “I insist.”

“Lucas, I am perfectly capable of taking the bus.”

He refuses to listen to me, all the while saying, cheerfully, “Of course you are.”

I try to dig my heels in. “I refuse.”

“Of course you do.” He has me inside the elevator leading to the garage.

I sigh.

It’s like talking to a brick wall.

The minute we’re in the garage, his hands move from my shoulders, and now one of them is on my lower back, guiding me towards his car.

I frown at the triumphant look in his eyes. “Getting me into your car is hardly something to be proud of.”

He opens the door of a Land Rover which is pitch black and gleaming.

“You changed cars?”

“My sister has a thing for this model, so I’m gifting it to her.” He looks mournful. “I hadn’t even had it for a whole year. It was one of a kind, a limited edition, too.”

The gesture by itself is so sweet I find myself smiling. I don’t know why it should surprise me though. Lucas has to be one of the most generous people I’ve met with a huge heart.

I’ve never seen him angry with anyone. Well, aside from the doctor that he yelled at during my delivery.

It’s at that moment when it dawns on me that Lucas has seen me at my very worst moment. He has seen me give birth, screaming and crying, and although this thought comes six months too late, I realize that I never thanked him properly.

Shame fills me and I fidget with Sophie’s hat, trying to come up with the best way to thank this man who had no reason to stand by me in my worst of times and yet, he’d befriended me and did just that.

We’re already on the road and I feel Lucas’s eyes on me.

“What? You ran out of reasons why I don’t need to give you a ride home?” He sounds amused,

I don’t smile and my mouth feels dry as I turn to look, “No. It’s just…” I try to search for the words and then finally settle on the most simple ones, “It’s just that you’ve done so much for me and I never thanked you.” I shrug my shoulders, helplessly. “I don’t even know where to begin! Or what to do!”

Lucas opens his mouth, and then an odd look enters his eyes and he snaps it shut. Next, he’s pulling the car over and putting it in park, to my surprise.

“L-Lucas?”

He rests his forearms on the steering wheel and he’s staring at something in the distance, wearing a contemplative expression on his face. Finally, he turns and looks at me and I see a determined glint in his eye. “What if I told you could repay me?”

I grow motionless., “What?”

“Would you do it?” He persists.

A particular light in his eyes is warning me there’s a very good chance I would come to regret every bringing this topic up. “O-of course,” I stammer out, undone by the intensity radiating from him in waves. “What is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

3

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