Page 116 of Dirty Judge

“Anyway...Hopefully your boyfriend will let me do my job and ask for your permission to come back here the next time he decides to randomly stop by.” She shook his hand, but gave him a long stare. “That’s a warning, Judge Liam.”

“It’s Judge Ashton.” He smiled at her. “Very nice to meet you, Jillian.”

“Hmmmph!” She rushed away, and I held back a laugh.

“Hang onto her for as long as you can,” he said. “She’s the best type of employee.”

“Because she hates you?”

“Because she wants to protect you,” he said. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No,” I said. “I was just organizing some things.”

“Well, that’s disappointing to hear,” he said, shutting the door. “You left my bed three hours early this morning. Just to organize things?”

“I’m just excited to have my own business.”

“I’m sure.” He stepped closer. “Well, after the loss of my entire flock of clerks last week, I’m here to make you a special offer, Miss Spencer.”

“I’ll pass.” I shook my head. “You and I working together again is a terrible idea, and you know it.”

“This is a different type of offer,” he said.

“It’s still a pass, Your Honor.” I smiled at him. “I appreciate your consideration, though.”

“Then let me finish it…” He grabbed my hands and pulled me flush against his chest. Then he slowly kissed my lips, making me regret leaving his bed.

“I really hate when I hear someone calling you Miss Spencer,” he whispered. “It really bothers me.”

“That’s something you should take up with my parents.”

“I took a flight to see them last weekend.”

“Huh?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

He pressed a kiss against my forehead and slowly got down on one knee.

My heart skipped several beats all at once, and I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myself.

“I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to do this, Olivia,” he said, grabbing my hand. “But… I can’t wait anymore.”

He paused, using his other hand to pull out a black velvet box.

“The past two years have been the best years of my life, and I don’t want to live another one without you being mine,” he said. “And I know you’re still figuring things out for yourself, but?—”

“Objection.” I interrupted him.

“What?”

“Objection,” I repeated.

He blinked. “On what grounds?”

“Just wanting to say yes.”

“I haven’t finished my speech yet.”

“You don’t have to.”