Page 34 of Crash Course
"Do you like that?"
She lifted one shoulder. "It has its perks, but in general? No. If someone befriends me, I want them to do it because they want to. Not because of who I am."
"I like that about you."
"What?"
"The intolerance for horseshit."
She burst out laughing. "That’s one way of putting it, but you’re right. I need to know the people around me are there for the right reasons."
Somehow, he considered that a message and moved close enough to get a whiff of her perfume. That subtle and sensual vanilla scent. Or maybe it was just his take on it because Priscilla Randolph fired his engines.
Big time.
The woman was a walking orgasm and he was just horny enough to forget his good sense over her being a client. Not ideal since he might still be in the doghouse with Zeke after the whole waking-up-drunk episode. Last thing he needed was to screw their very screwable client. But, hey . . .
Phin.
Maddy.
End of story. He’d go slow. He liked her. Wanted to take some time and get to know her. Which didn’t happen a lot. What that said about him, he wasn’t sure, but it normally took minimal work to get women naked and horizontal.
Where Cilla was concerned, he wanted to work.
Hard.
"A woman," he said, "after my own heart. Most days, I can’t deal with outsiders. I have my family and a few close friends. That’s all I need."
"You don’t date?"
"Wouldn’t be here with you if there was someone special." He knocked on the table and smiled at her. "Hoping the woman in front of me can change that. And, let me tell you, there’s a goddamned gold rush of girlfriends in Chez Blackwell. My brothers have taken the plunge on love these last months. I might be due."
Cilla laughed. "Does that seem weird? That they’re all suddenly attached."
"Uh, yeah. BARS is like an estrogen pool. Everyone watching their language 24/7. Takes adjusting to."
"I get that. It’s a change to your environment. Sometimes change is good though, right? I mean, you’re adjusting?"
Where the hell was this going? He shrugged. "I have to. My brothers deserve to be happy. If having the women in their lives around makes them happy, I’m all for it. I love them. I’d jump in front of a bus for them." He narrowed his eyes. "Why do I feel like you’re asking this for a reason?"
"I am. I’m considering a change. Office space in Asheville. Which takes me out of Charlotte and I have clients in Charlotte."
"Where’s your office now?"
"In my dad’s building. He doesn’t charge me rent and I give him legal advice."
"Sounds like a good setup. Why do you want to leave?"
"He’s . . . persistent."
"Meaning he’s bugging you."
She clucked her tongue, pinched her nose tight, wrinkling her perfect face. "Bugging might be too strong. I feel like I need space. Room to breathe, if that makes sense."
"With the number of people in my house these days? Makes total sense."
"Let’s hope my father feels that way."
