Page 49 of Dirty Pool

“Law.”

Michel made a noise under his breath. “Law, hmm?”

“Don’t sound so disgusted.”

Michel laughed. “In my experience, lawyers have never done anything but try to put my father away for years.”

“And what about the lawyers who defended him?”

He stiffened behind her. “It was usually my uncle—Giovanni. I just never thought to put him on the same playing field as the rest of them.”

Gabbie shrugged. “You should. That’s my goal, by the way. A defense lawyer.”

“If you’re as dirty in the courtroom as you are playing a game of pool, then I have no doubt you’ll be amazing.”

She elbowed him lightly for more of his teasing, but this time, he answered her back by sinking his teeth right into the side of her neck. A shot of heat pooled in her gut, especially when his lips pressed to the same spot, hot and soft. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her in closer to his body.

“Why a doctor?” she asked.

Michel hummed under his breath. “Do you want me to use the same tired line everyone else uses when asked that question?”

“What line is that?”

“They want to help people.”

Gabbie gave him a look over her shoulder, but he just smirked at her. “Don’t you want to help people, too?”

“I do, but I won’t lie and say that’s the only reason.”

“What else is there?”

“I had a romanticized idea of what being a trauma surgeon would be like, and in a way, I still do.” Michel used his free hand to run his fingers through her loose curls. She probably could have sunk into his touch, the sensation of his fingers drifting through her hair was enough to make sparks dance in her nervous system. “And then there’s the pressure. That’s a big part of it, too, I won’t lie.”

“The pressure?”

“I work best under pressure. Someone pushes me to the limit, and great things happen. That’s been my whole life, basically. I wanted to do something for work that was going to take me to the breaking point every day so that I was constantly at my best. I don’t think I would be satisfied or happy, otherwise.”

“Ah.”

That made sense.

Michel let out a rumbling chuckle behind her. “I can’t think of another job that’s as high in intensity as a trauma surgeon, you know?”

“There are some.”

“But none that interested me like that did.”

“I get it.” Gabbie scrunched her nose up as the ducks realized she was out of birdseed and started to float away from the edge of the pond. “What about …”

“What, babe?”

“The family business. You never considered that? It seems like every man in my life, well, that was the first thing they gravitated to.”

“I still dabble.”

“From the sidelines, maybe,” she replied, referring to his dealing.

“If you knew my mother, you wouldn’t think it was just dabbling.”