and some change together, he could still make me weak with a look, but the heart-flipping reaction wasn’t entirely a pleasant one today. I was nervous. Like, going-into-the-courtroom nervous. I wasn’t supposed to feel like that when I met up with Will for one of our lunch dates.
As if he could feel my presence, he put his glasses back on and looked up, zeroing right in on me. He smiled. I returned it and nodded toward the counter. He nodded back.
There was a short line, which wasn’t unusual. When I reached the front, I ordered our usuals—a chicken pesto panini and venti double espresso for me, a ham sandwich and an iced tea for him. I’d grab something for Tom on my way out so it wouldn’t be cold by the time I got back to the office.
After I paid, the barista handed me our drinks and a number, and she said the sandwiches would be out in a couple of minutes. I smiled, thanked her, and then crossed the room to where Will was sitting.
I was almost to the table when he lifted his gaze again, and…oh yeah. He could definitely still make me weak with a look, even when I was this nervous. Especially when he smiled like that.
I put the drinks down and bent for a quick kiss. Then I sat across from him as he put his phone facedown on the table and pulled on his glasses again.
Will took a drink from his iced tea. “How’s your day going?”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “It’s kind of quiet right now.”
“Compared to the usual? Or compared to how chaotic it was during that last case?”
I considered it. “Compared to the last case.” Exhaling, I picked up my coffee. “Christ that was a shitshow.”
He grunted in agreement. We couldn’t talk details here in public, but even if we could, he knew as much as I could divulge without compromising client privilege. The case itself had been relatively cut and dry, but the client was an idiot who’d seemed hell bent on making my job as difficult as possible.
I mean look, bro, I’m here to defend your ass after you blew three times the legal limit at the scene of a fatal accident you and Jaeger caused. Maybe don’t keep withholding information and changing your story? Ugh.
I sipped my coffee. There were definitely days I understood why some of my law school classmates had wanted to stay as far from criminal law—especially criminal defense—as possible. “Well, it’s still better than the cases I got before we moved here.”
“That’s a low bar,” Will muttered.
“No kidding.” Our eyes met, and the conversation died away as quickly as it had started. I didn’t think it was just because neither of us needed to elaborate on why my job was decidedly more boring and less stressful in Laurelsburg than it had been in Chicago. Bit of a no-brainer there. But it wasn’t the reason for the silence settling in like some uninvited third person pulling up a chair to join us at our tiny table.
Or maybe it was just my imagination. My mind went there every time we hit a lull in a conversation, or Will’s mind was someplace else, or he didn’t want to have sex. For the last few months, and especially the last few weeks, it had been my default when things felt even the slightest bit quiet or awkward or—
“Hey.” He reached across the table and put his hand over my forearm, the contact making me jump. “You’re someplace else. Talk to me.”
I avoided his eyes as heat rushed into my cheeks and that pre-courtroom nervous feeling intensified. “Just, um…preoccupied. I guess.”
“I can see that. You’ve been that way a lot lately.” With a cautious grin, he said, “Don’t you remember I’m supposed to be the perpetually distracted one?”
I laughed nervously. “I guess we all have our moments, right?”
“We do.” He sipped his drink. “What’s on your mind?”
He didn’t need to ask. We both knew it. Couldn’t we just not go there right now? Our lunch would be here in a few minutes. We could eat, ignore the things we didn’t want to talk about, and then go back to work. And we could talk about it… I don’t know. Later? Just not now. Not today. Not until—
“Aaron.” His voice edged toward his Dom voice, which usually relaxed me. “Look at me.”