Acts of Desperation (7 page)

“We’re here,” Fritz’s said. His muffled voice cut through the glass.

The corners of Jax’s mouth rose up, hinting at a grin. Then, he turned and leaned forward to tap on the glass. “Don’t you dare get out of this car and open my door. You have a number where I can reach you when we’re finished?” he asked.

Fritz lowered the glass. “Bernie got me one of these damn phones a few years ago,” he said, shaking a simple flip phone into the air. “I have a hard time seeing the screen with
my old eyes, but yes, that sounds good.” He rattled off the number while Jax programmed it into his phone.

Jax got out of the car and extended his hand. “Shall we?” he asked.

I grabbed ahold of his hand and he lifted me from the car. We ran from the cold, past the horse-drawn carriages waiting at the curb and through the revolving doors, inside.

We took an escalator up to the second floor to the restaurant
. The hostess walked us past the kitchen where cooks busily prepared brick oven pizzas and other delicacies. I inhaled the savory smells they were creating as we were lead into the carpeted dining room. We sat in front of a large window that looked out onto the center of the city.

Big clunky city buses rocked
unsteadily in the heavy winds as they navigated the streets. The Clydesdale attached to the prettiest Cinderella carriage at the curb below snorted out big plumes of steam and stomped his hoof, protesting the cold and begging to move. I watched his gloved handler rub his head and whisper in his ear, cajoling him, and the horse bobbed his head in understanding. It was miserable out there, yet here I sat, nestled comfortably warm across from Jax. I drank him in as he removed his coat and slung it on the back of an unused chair at a neighboring table. The way he carried himself oozed confidence

My attention was pulled away from
him when our waitress dropped off two glasses of ice water and told us about the specials. After she stepped away, I folded my menu closed and laid it on the table. I already knew what I wanted walking in the door; it was one of my favorite restaurants.

“So, why’d you leave
New York and come to Cincinnati?” I asked.

He closed his menu and
laid it on the table then looked at me. “I think it bothered by grandparents that I was alone in the city with no family close by. My parents passed away years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said.
“I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to lose your parents.”

“Thanks, but i
t’s ok, it’s been awhile. I came along later in life for them,” he said. “So, I’d been tossing around the idea of coming here for a while, and it was time for a fresh start anyway.”

“A fresh start?
What do you mean—” I began, but our server came by. She brought a small dish of fresh bruschetta and warm, crispy discs of buttered toast, and I completely forgot my question. Jax requested a few more minutes to look over menu, but, as soon as the server stepped away, he didn’t pick it up. Instead, he looked at me again.

“So, what got you into law?” he asked.

I took a moment, considering my answer. “Well, if this were a job interview I’d probably say something deeply meaningful about my profound admiration and respect for our legal system, but the truth is I watched a lot of law shows growing up with my mom. I loved the mystery, the arguing, and, of course, the romance. I can remember being eight and watching
L.A. Law
and swooning for Jimmy Smits and Harry Hamlin.”

He smiled and let out a small laugh.
“So you got into law to fall in love with a hot lawyer? How’s that working out for you?”

“Oh my gosh, no!” I laughed and felt myself blush. However,
looking at Jax—Harry Hamlin had nothing on him. “Law has always appealed to me. Did Bernie talk you into it?” I asked.

His answer wasn’t immediate either
. “No, but he was a major contributing factor. I didn’t know from the time I was eight or anything, but eventually, I knew it was what I wanted to do.”

“He must ha
ve taught you well. I heard you had quite the reputation in New York,” I said.

“Yeah?
” He furrowed his brow. “You been poking around?” he said, his face losing a bit of its playful edge.

I was caught slightly off guard by his reaction
. “Why? Got some skeletons you’re trying to hide?” I joked, but when he didn’t laugh, I got tense. “Um…no, I just heard talk in the office, that’s all.”

He laughed and the
tension lifted. “Oh, of course,” he said and quickly picked up his menu when he saw our server approaching.

This restaurant has the
best
cream of mushroom soup and gourmet brick oven pizzas. So while Jax scanned the menu, I ordered a bowl of the soup and the wild mushroom pizza—admittedly, I have a thing for mushrooms. He ordered a pizza margherita and a bowl of the soup as well. The server collected our menus and was off to place our order.

“So…
do
you have some skeletons?” I asked, deciding to revisit the uncomfortable moment. With what Sarah was dealing with Anders and with what John had done to me, let’s just say I’d become less naïve.

He laughed
uncomfortably. “No, no.” He shook his head. “I’ve just left some things in New York, and I’d like them to stay there.”

“
Really. Like what?” I asked.

He picked up his glass and crunched on
a piece of ice then ran his fingers through his hair. “I prefer not to talk about it, if you don’t mind. But I do have a question I’d like to ask you?”

I sighed.
“Ok.” If someone asks me a question, I usually don’t hold anything back. I’m not secretive, and I won’t hesitate to lay it all out there. But, not everyone is an open book so I decided to let my question go, for now.

“
So is your boyfriend a lawyer as well?” He smirked. “I know you’re not dating anyone at our firm but there are plenty more in the city.”

M
y heart raced. He’d been asking around about me at the firm. Dee would have been the only one who knew anything about my personal life, but what she knew was limited. She only knew that I lived with someone, and I hadn’t updated her about my new living arrangement. What would I have done? Walked right up to her desk that Monday morning and said, “Morning Dee, I caught my boyfriend cheating on me over the weekend and moved in with my best friend. How was your weekend?” No, not my style. Although, now thinking of it, I would have to update HR with my new address.

H
earing his question, I knew I was stepping into unchartered water, and I’d never mixed business with pleasure.
This,
had pleasure written all over it. “No,” I said. “He
was
in advertising.”

“Was?”

“Yes. Was.” I held off on elaborating on the details of “was.” I felt it unnecessary to drag him into the ugly scene that had been my life that past Friday. It could have easily launched into a John bashing session and that’s a big no-no on a first date—if that’s what this was.

“How unfortunate.” He grinned then leaned back and picked up his wat
er again, locking his eyes on mine.

We proceeded to have a conversation about normal get-to-know-you things while we ate our soup, but it was wrought with double entendres and innuendo. By the time our server cleared our soup bowls, I was aflutter. I excused myself to the ladies ro
om, and when I returned with my composure, our pizzas had arrived.

He stood and pulled my chair out, and when I was seated, I
draped my napkin across my lap. I cut neatly into my first slice. I forked a small bite into my mouth while he, in true masculine form, picked his up and bit down into his. A roasted tomato slapped onto his chin and before he could catch it, it slid down and splatted onto the chest of his shirt. I lifted my napkin to my mouth to hide my snickering.

He huffed quietly. “That’s great,” he said, chuckling
at himself under his breath. He wiped his chin then picked the tomato off his shirt. He discarded it on his plate, and looked down at the stain. 

“It’s not that bad. If you put some cold water on it, it might come out a little,” I said, grimacing.

“I’m going to need to do something. I have a case conference at three. I can’t go in like this.” He picked up his napkin and dunked it clumsily into his water. As he blotted the stain, it didn’t lift. In fact, it slowly bled and was being surrounded by an ever growing wet spot. I could make out the hint of dark chest hair as the wet shirt attempted to cling to his skin. He sighed. “I’m only making it worse. There’s a Brook’s Brother’s downstairs, I might need to pick up a shirt before we head out. Whose idea was it anyway to put water on it?”

“Hey, hey…I said put
some
water on it, not the whole glass.” I laughed. “But, I agree, you’re going to need a new shirt. Your jacket won’t cover it.”

“Yep, I’m out of luck on this one.” He threw his napkin down in defeat. “Oh well.”

After we finished our lunch, we headed down the escalator to the men’s clothing store on the first floor. We walked through the doors of the store and went straight to the back where a bulk of dress shirts was located.

A sharply dressed clerk approached us and offered his assistance. Jax explained his situation and quickly picked out a shirt. After riffling through the stack and locating the correct size, the clerk went into
the storeroom to steam out the wrinkles. He returned within minutes.

“Here you go, sir. The dressing rooms are right this way,” he said.

We followed him then Jax stepped inside the stall and pulled the curtain shut. I thought it was odd that a store of this caliber would have such a crude changing room system. A swift breeze of someone walking by would be enough to blow it open, but I guessed the laws that governed men’s dressing rooms weren’t the same as women’s, much like the doorless stalls I’d heard about in their bathrooms.

I took a seat on the bench
just outside his dressing room and noticed a small crack in the curtain. Jax’s reflection stared at me in the mirror. His hands and arms moved up and down, tugging his shirt from his waistband, and I couldn’t peel my eyes away. He undid his buttons slowly, each one giving a more revealing glimpse than the last. His dark chest hair lightly blanketed his hard pecs, trailing downward over his rippling abs before trickling into a thin line, and then disappearing into the mystery that lied beneath.

P
rovoking and taunting me from his chamber of torture, he undid the last button and lifted the shirt off his strong shoulders, revealing his lethal weapon—the chiseled V of his pelvic muscles. It only confirmed that he was absolute sculpted perfection. He shook the shirt from his arms, and retrieved the new one off the hanger. He unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. I was breathless with anticipation, staring on, waiting for him to show me more, and then suddenly he stopped moving. I looked up slowly, completely lost in him, and drew in a quick breath when I met his eyes. He’d caught me, and his grin said it all—he liked it. As he finished dressing, his eyes never left mine. 

H
e pulled the curtain back eventually breaking his stare. Without saying a word, he walked to the register and finished his transaction. When we stepped into the common space of the building, my heart pounded, and I looked at the revolving doors that led outside.

“Should we call Fritz?” I
said, slightly nervous and looking out to the empty curb.

He didn’t utter a word and
looked across the hall. When he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a dark corner next to a set of elevators, I had to almost run to keep up with him. 

“What are we do—?” I
said, but before I could finish my sentence, he slammed me up against the cold tile wall and his hungry mouth was on mine. He greedily parted my eager lips, and at last I tasted his sweet breath. He laced his fingers through the tangles of my hair, cupping the sides of my head and released a low moan.

As o
ur tongues entwined, the stubble of his beard began numbing my lips. He pressed his body into mine, and I felt his heart pounding against my chest. It fueled me to feel the effect I was having on him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer. Our heated kiss continued, and I felt his growing bulge press against my abdomen. I resisted my urge to jump and wrap my legs around his waist.

I heard laughter somewhere deep off into the background, and I opened my eyes
as he trailed kisses down my neck. A couple was walking through the lobby, hand in hand, and I caught their sideways glances as they passed. But then, up on the second floor, I saw a lone man watching us. I gazed up at his blank face as my passion swelled. This stranger was witnessing our secret moment, and I loved every minute of it.

Jax
slowly pulled back, and every molecule in my body wanted to scream in protest. Sensing my dissention, he traced his lips against my neck again, teasing me, and inched upward, toward the soft skin behind my ear. The wetness from his tongue left a cold tingling trail in its wake and sent a chill through my body.