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A glance at the document on his screen tells me that he’s reading a contract. So he’s still working. When I look closer, I deduce it’s a rental contract.

I open my mouth to tease him—mostly good-naturedly—about the slum lord I assume he’s defending, but a section of the contract catches my eye. Public Housing Agency.

Leaning closer, I ask, “What is this?”

“Rental contract,” he says distractedly, rubbing at his mouth in thought.

“Are you defending the landlord?”

He shakes his head. “One of the tenants. She’s having a problem with her family’s apartment, and the landlord won’t fix it.” He drags a hand down his face. “These cases are just annoying because you have a lease between landlord and tenant, plus a separate contract between the landlord and the Public Housing Agency. There’s a lot of hands in the pot.”

My brow furrows. “This case came to your firm?”

Another headshake. “I took it.”

“Did—” I shake my head, trying to understand. “Did you take it pro bono?”

A beat of hesitation. Then he nods.

“Okay… Why?”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks bashful. He won’t meet my eyes and he’s fidgeting with the pen on the counter.

Finally, he shrugs and says, “I don’t know. I guess it felt wrong spending my entire day defending the rich guys.”

In that moment, something blossoms inside me. A feeling I’ve never experienced. It’s been growing, slowly and stealthily, ever since I saw him with Sean. This good in him. I knew he was more than this image he lets on; I just didn’t fully realize it because of all the other things going on with Lucas at the firm. But it’s been there, waiting for the right moment to show me who Lucas really is. A caring, passionate man who doesn’t let the rest of the world see that part of him.

But I see him.

Wordlessly, I lean forward and press my lips to his.

It doesn’t scare me that he freezes at my touch. I know he’s confused by it, by affection like this. I’m scared shitless by it, too, but it feels so right to kiss him like this, because of this, that I give myself to the sensation regardless.

When I pull back, I meet Lucas’s wide eyes.

“What was that for?” he breathes.

I return his shrug with one of my own.

And then I kiss him again.

This time, he kisses me back.

His hand weaves into my hair to cup the back of my head, his mouth slanting over mine to deepen the kiss. I sigh at his attention. And I realize that while there may have been a part of me that was holding back from Lucas in the bedroom before, the same thing may have been happening with Lucas, too. Because he absolutely melts into it now.

It feels like all the tension releases from his body. His breath escapes in a relieved rush, and his entire weight just…relaxes into me.

I twist to face him more fully, whimpering for more. My hands search for a place to lock onto, but he’s wearing his usual tight white dress shirt, so they end up sliding up and over his shoulders to lock behind his neck instead.

All that does is bring our bodies closer together. With a groan, he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

We both realize at the same time that our current setting of the barstools won’t be conducive to the need thrumming through us. Without stopping the kiss, Lucas stands and lifts me with one hand. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, my arms tightening around his neck with a grateful sigh against his lips.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he breathes, stopping to press a hard kiss to my mouth. “Are we doing this? You’re sure?”

I’m nodding before he’s even finished the question. I’ve already decided I want this. That I want him.

If there was any remaining tension in his body, it disappears with my answer. Another hard kiss to my lips, this one feeling more like gratitude, and then he’s striding across the apartment to his bedroom.