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Zac: I’m gonna see if my parents will keep Malcolm for me tonight. If they can, then I’ll come over to your house.
Me: I hope they can because I’m craving you, Buchanan. In every way. I just need YOU too.
Zac: I’ll let you know what they say as soon as I find out.
Me: Okay.
Zac: See you in court, Sinclair.
I pulled into the courthouse parking lot forty minutes before the hearing was scheduled to begin. Walking toward the entrance of the huge building, I wondered if I was going to run into Zac going through the security line like before, but he wasn’t anywhere around that I could see once I made it up to the line.
This court proceeding that I was going to was on the third floor, and as soon as I made it up to it and the doors of the elevator had opened, I started tingling all over. Zac was standing about ten yards away, wearing a dark gray tailored suit, white-collared shirt, a tie and dress shoes. His short dark blond hair was groomed and neat, and his still-unshaven face looked so good.
Shit, shit, shit.
He looked up from speaking to someone I presumed was his client, met my gaze and softly smiled at me. I watched his eyes fall from mine, down to my waist, and then even lower. Without saying a word, I knew Zac was thinking about the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my skirt. The only thing that lay beneath the fabric of my professional attire was my bare skin.
Before I pulled my eyes away from Zac, I returned his smile. Walking down the hallway toward the courtroom where Zac and I would soon be facing off, I took a deep breath and refocused mytrain of thought back to myclient—the four-year-old little boy who the state of Texas and I were representing. He wouldn’t be here today, because of his fragile age, but his guardian ad litem from Child Protective Services would be, as well as his attorney ad litem. I’d already spoken with them on several occasions about this case and we were all three ready to see justice dispensed today. It was going to be coming from the judge, not a jury.
When I walked into the courtroom, no one was present yet. I was glad to have this time to myself to get my files out of my briefcase and go back over them. I’d just sat down at the prosecutor’s table when I heard the courtroom doors open behind me, making my heart jump, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart jumped again. Zac was walking toward me and his eyes were bearing down on mine.
“Good morning, Ms. Sinclair,” he said, right before turning toward the defense table.
“Buchanan.”
We’d both switched back into professional mode, but I could see that Zac was already struggling to keep it going because the corners of his mouth were curled up. But then I thought that maybe he really wasn’t struggling. Maybe that grin of his was intended to weaken my front, to tease me, to toy with the boundary lines once again. The temptation within Zac to do that very thing was just as present within me. The possibility of getting away with something was definitely alluring but we simply could not go there. Not within this legal space.
I turned my attention back to the case documents in my hands and began thumbing through them. This was a good distraction from Zac and also a good way to pass the time. I looked up at the clock on the wall: twenty-five minutes left before court would be called into session. I expected others to begin filing in here at any moment.
I picked up my pen and made a note on my legal pad while keeping an eye on Zac in my peripheral to my right. He was going over documents and I wondered if he was simply going through the motions like I was—putting on a good act. Then he looked over at me, but I didn’t look over at him. I kept scribbling notes. Not any that had to do with this case, though. I was actually attempting to draw what I thought I saw on Zac’s tie.
He continued staring at me and as soon as I finished my drawing, I decided to turn my attention to him. I knew this was our last chance to share something intimate while inside this room, even if was only a look. And the way that he was looking at me right now was definitely intimate. His eyes were flickering with desire and they danced across my face, coming to a brief stop at my lips. Zac quietly sighed and so did I. This attraction between us was so sultry and intoxicating.
I looked back at my legal pad, took a deep breath, then asked Zac, “Is that Scottish thistle on your tie?”
“It is.”
“Thought so. Nice tie, kinsman.”
“Thank you, kinswoman.”
I was still looking down at the thistle I’d drawn when my cellphone buzzed on the table. As soon as I saw who the text was from, I smiled.
Zac: My parents are keeping Malcolm tonight.
Me: Okay.
Zac: How about I get you and me some takeout for dinner?
Me: Or I can cook something.
Zac: Let’s keep it simple. Does Chipotle sound good to you?
Me: Yes.
Zac: What do you like from there?
Me: Keto salad bowl with chicken.
