Love Me Read online

  A tiny, triumphant smile flitted across Helen’s face. It was gone almost before he’d registered it. Jamie wanted to kiss the corner of her mouth and see if he could get it to reappear.

  “It’s pretty obvious what happened,” she said, waving her arm at the hole in the wall behind the reception desk. “The police who came out did everything they were supposed to do, but I think this was deliberate.”

  She twisted her fingers together, and Jamie tensed. She thought it was deliberate?

  Suddenly the teasing nephews were gone and the cops reappeared. “Why do you think so?” Connor asked, patting at his pocket.

  “It happened really fast,” she said. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she took in the destruction in front of her. “But I’m almost certain the driver accelerated as he got closer to my desk.”

  “Any idea how old the driver was?” Quinn pulled out a notebook and a pen, too.

  “I didn’t get a good look at him. But young, I think. He had longish hair. That’s all I remember. Why?”

  Connor cleared his throat. “The people who run into buildings tend to be elderly. They get confused and hit the gas instead of the brake. So if it was an old guy, that might be the reason.”

  “Okay,” Helen said slowly. “My impression wasn’t old. But it happened so fast that I just caught a glimpse.”

  “Anyone have a grudge?” Connor asked.

  Helen laughed. “I’m a lawyer. Tons of people hate me. They need to take a number if they want a shot at me.”

  Jamie shoved his hands into his pockets. He liked that she could laugh at herself. And make light of what she did for a living. But the thought that someone had deliberately targeted her?

  “You live by yourself?” he asked.

  Helen swung around, frowning, as if she’d forgotten he was there. He’d make sure that didn’t happen again. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You shouldn’t be living alone if someone is after you.”

  “Thank you for putting that in my head,” she said. “I’ll think about you when I’m wide awake in bed tonight.”

  God, he hoped so. Because he’d sure be thinking about her.

  She must have realized what she’d said, because she turned bright red. Both of the cops were laughing. Connor said, “There something you want to tell us about you and Evans, Helen?”

  “Why yes, there is.” Her sultry voice shocked the hell out of Jamie. “He’s a busy man, so he has to get to work.” She shoved both of the cops toward her inner office. “Let’s let Jamie do his job while we talk in the other room.”

  As he took measurements and wrote down assessments of the damage, Jamie heard them talking in the next room. They sounded easy together. As if they enjoyed each other’s company. His family used to be that way, too. Still was, when they were together. But all three of his siblings lived in different parts of the country, and his parents had retired to Florida. So family fun was pretty rare nowadays.

  Blocking out the sounds of Helen and her nephews, Jamie peered through the holes in the wall, checked the structural integrity of the outer and inner walls and wrote detailed assessments of the repairs that needed to be done. The bad news was, there was a lot of damage.

  The good news? He’d be spending lots of time with Helen.

  As he scribbled his final thoughts on his legal pad, the half-attached door to Helen’s office eased open and Connor, Quinn and Helen emerged. “One of us will call after we’ve had a chance to sniff around a little,” Quinn said. “I’ll talk to Brendan, too. He has lots of contacts on the street. Maybe someone heard something.”

  “Thanks, guys,” she said, hugging both men. “I know this isn’t your thing and I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  “No problem. See you Sunday?” Connor asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, smiling.

  Both cops turned to Jamie. “Nice to meet you,” Quinn said.

  “Yeah, you, too, Quinn.” He shook Quinn’s hand, turned to his twin. “Connor.”

  Connor jerked his head toward Jamie and grinned at Helen. “This guy’s good. He can tell us apart already. You should hold onto him.”

  Helen’s face turned red again. Which Jamie found very interesting. “He’s the contractor, Con. Showed up this morning out of the blue.”

  Quinn gazed from Connor to Helen to Jamie. “Right. Bring him on Sunday.”

  “Get out of here. Both of you.” She shoved Connor toward the door, then pushed Quinn after him. When the cops were on the other side, she leaned against the door, as if barricading it against her nephews. She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  “Nice guys,” Jamie said after a long moment.

  “Yeah, they are.” Helen pushed away from the door and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Good cops, too. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, they can.”

  “So they have a brother?” he asked, watching Helen. Her gaze drifted over the ruined desk, the hole in the wall, the broken door. Everywhere but at him.

  “They have two brothers and a sister,” she finally said. Had she been debating whether to share even this small part of her? “Mac, the oldest, is an FBI agent. Brendan is a vice detective. Mia’s the youngest. She’s a cop, too.”

  “Wow. Impressive family.”

  Her shoulders relaxed and she pushed away from the door. “They are. Quinn and Connor dropped everything to come talk to me.”

  “So what’s Sunday?”

  She hesitated. “Dinner at my sister’s,” she finally said. “Family tradition. Once a month.”

  “Sounds like fun,” he said lightly. He’d wait a day or two before reminding her he’d been invited. “So I have some things we should talk about – what you’d like me to do in here, your options, stuff like that. I can give you a rough estimate of how long it’ll take, although that will probably change once I start the demolition.”

  “Okay.” She looked around the ruins of her reception area, glanced through the wall at her wobbly, lopsided desk. “Not sure there’s a space to work in here,” she said. “There’s a coffee shop down the street. Let’s go there.”

  “A little late in the day for coffee, isn’t it?”

  Her gaze settled on the piles of file folders against the wall. “Not today. I have to get all these files organized, and I’ll need the caffeine.”

  “You’re working in here tonight?” he asked carefully.

  “I have to. I’ll be in court tomorrow, so I can’t count on time to organize stuff here. And I’m in court two days next week, as well. I have to make sure I have all the paperwork I need. At the very least, I need to alphabetize all the files. I have people counting on me. I can’t say ‘there was an accident. Sorry. I won’t be able to help you with your custody case until the mess is cleaned up.’”

  “After what happened, you know it’s insane to be here alone at night.”

  She swallowed. “It’s not what I’d choose, but I don’t have a choice.”

  He admired her dedication. Her determination to help her clients. But he’d be damned if he’d leave her here by herself. “Okay, you’re working late.” He wouldn’t tell her yet that he’d be with her. “Instead of coffee, let’s get some dinner while we talk.”

  She opened her mouth, glanced at him, closed it. Looked away. “I can’t keep you that long,” she finally said.

  “I’m the one who offered. Besides, it’s going to take a while to go over everything. We can eat while we talk.” His gaze assessed her. “Or aren’t you good at multi-tasking?”

  “I’m the queen of multi-tasking,” she shot back.

  “Great. It’s settled, then.” He looked around the office. “Do you have a briefcase or a purse or something?”

  “It’s in the office. I’ll get it.”

  He put a hand on her arm, and his fingers tingled. He swore sparks flew from her skin to his. She froze, as if she felt it, too.

  He let her go as fast as if she’d left her brand on him. “I’ll get it.”
He nodded at the clunky boot. “Save you a few steps.”

  “I can get it myself,” she said, but he was already through the door. He spotted a black bag-like thing with handles. It had a couple of file folders sticking out the top.

  When he brought it to the other room, she snatched it from his hand. “I can walk, you know.”

  “Of course you can. You’ve been walking all afternoon.” She shifted her weight off the booted foot. The movement was subtle, but he noticed.

  He’d bet money that ankle hurt. He wanted to kiss it away. Hell, he wanted to start with the tension in her shoulders. Work his way down her back, paying attention to every bump of her spine, every tight muscle. Then go lower and massage the sore muscles in her calf. Kiss those aches away, too.

  “My truck is a block away,” he said gruffly. “You okay to walk that far?”

  She actually rolled her eyes at him. “I took the El this afternoon,” she said. “The station is three blocks away. I think I can manage a block.”

  “You didn’t drive here?”

  “I never drive here. There’s not a lot of parking.”

  “Maybe you should start. At least until your ankle heals.”

  She wiggled her booted right foot. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m not going to be driving until this thing comes off.”

  She didn’t sound very thankful. She clearly wasn’t as immune to him as she’d like to be.

  He resisted the urge to smile as he took her elbow to help her over a rough spot in the sidewalk. Her muscles clenched beneath his hand, and he tightened his grip. When they reached the other side of the crooked slab of concrete, he slid his fingers down her arm, hooked their pinkies for a split second, then let her go.

  “Here’s my truck,” he said, nodding at the white Ford 150. He opened the door and helped her into the cab.

  When he slid into the driver’s seat, she was looking around like she’d landed in a foreign country. “It’s so clean.”

  Of course it was clean. “You thought I was a slob?” He glanced at her and couldn’t resist the urge to push. “I don’t remember any clothes or underwear on the floor of my place that night. Besides what we took off each other, of course. Like those black lace boy shorts you were wearing.” He turned a corner and spotted the restaurant in the next block. With a parking spot right in front of the place. “I found them on the coffee table. Still have them. You can have them back if you want.”

  “What? You…I…” While she was sputtering, he pulled into the parking spot, got out of the truck and opened her door. As she scooted to the edge of the seat, searching for a place to put her foot, he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her to the sidewalk.

  The top of her head only came to his chin. He’d remembered her as taller than that. Probably because she held herself so straight. His hands lingered on her waist for a moment too long, then he let her go and put his hand on her back. “I think you’re going to like this place.”

  She resisted the pressure to move forward. “You have to stop talking about that night.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because that’s not who I am,” she finally said in a low voice. “I don’t do that. I don’t go home with men I’ve just met.”

  He turned to face her. “I don’t do that either, Helen. I’m not a player. But that night was different. I think it was different for both of us.”

  When he’d seen her dancing at a club, it felt like she’d punched him in the gut. Instant lust. Primitive and overwhelming. Mine. Before he’d realized what he was doing, he’d been making his way toward her.

  She’d been dancing with three other woman. When he slid in front of Helen, none of them objected. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d seen one of the women grinning, giving Helen a thumb’s up.

  Three hours later, they’d been in his bed.

  The sun was low in the sky and it cast shadows over Helen’s face, making it hard to read her expression. “You have to forget about that night,” she finally said. “If you can’t, we won’t be able to work together.”

  Chapter 3

  Jamie stared at her, his face serious. She’d never seen him serious, she realized. Not in the long hours of that night a year ago. His face had been lit with joy. It was one of the reasons she’d been so drawn to him. One of the reasons he’d dazzled her.

  One of the reasons she’d gone home with him.

  He’d been serious earlier today, she corrected herself. When he’d seen the damage to her office and heard how it happened. But it had been a momentary blip in his demeanor. Before she realized it, he’d been back to teasing her.

  Dazzling her.

  Making her yearn for his joy. For his effervescent love of life.

  “Sorry, Helen. You’re asking for something I can’t give you. I can’t forget about that night. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

  They stood on the sidewalk, the lights of the restaurant beckoning, but neither of them moved.

  “I can tell your landlord you’d prefer a different contractor.” His mouth quirked up. “Might be awhile before he could get one, though. It’s the beginning of summer. Construction season. Most people are booked.”

  “Then how come you got here so fast?” she asked, suspicious. Had he known who she was?

  No. If he’d known her last name, he would have gotten in touch with her a long time ago. A year ago.

  “I had a cancellation two days ago,” he said easily. “And my next project is waiting on material. So I was able to squeeze you in.”

  “So I was lucky.”

  One side of his mouth curled up, and she closed her eyes. Bad choice of words. Here it comes. Not as lucky as you’re gonna be.

  But he resisted the bait she’d tossed him, ignored the easy innuendo. “You were. And I’d like to work on your office. But it’s up to you.”

  “Fine,” she said. She hadn’t really wanted to get rid of him. It was embarrassing how much she wanted him to stick around. “It’s not like we’re going to be…to be joined at the hip or anything.”

  “I’ll be in your space for a few weeks,” he said. He put his hand on her back and steered her toward the restaurant. “Let’s go inside so I can tell you what I’m thinking about your office.”

  ***

  By the time they were sharing tiramisu – not because she wanted to share with Jamie, only because she was too full to eat a whole serving – he’d explained all the damage he’d found in her office and offered some suggestions for ways it could be improved during the reconstruction.

  “You figured all this out in an hour?”

  “Give or take. The work isn’t that complicated. Your office is a small space. Not a lot of options. But I think I can make things more efficient for you. A little more attractive, too.”

  She set down her spoon next to his and leaned back in the chair. “I’m impressed,” she admitted. “Your ideas are good, and you’re right. Putting the door to the inner office on the other side of the reception desk would make the flow better. Using chairs instead of the bench along the wall would be more comfortable and make the reception area look less like the 70’s. And I like the built-in file cabinets.”

  “Yeah. The car made a nice-sized hole that would be perfect for built-ins. With the added bonus that they’re safer. A little more of a barrier to a car trying to get to your inner office.”

  “I hope that’s not an issue again,” she said, suddenly chilled. “Lightning doesn’t strike twice, right?”

  Instead of reassuring her, he studied her for a moment. Finally he said, “You thought something was off about the accident. You need to be careful.”

  Her nails dug half-moons into her palms. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “Good. I want you to be cautious.”

  She smoothed the white tablecloth beside the tiramisu plate. “I always am.”

  “Be more careful.”

  She didn’t want to think about someone aiming a car at her deliberately. Time to chang
e the subject. “Will the landlord and the insurance company agree?”

  The tension in Jamie’s shoulders relaxed, but the darkness in his eyes didn’t disappear. As she watched, he unclenched his fists, relaxed his expression. Smiled. “Mike will love it. He gets his property updated for free, basically. I’ll have to go a few rounds with the insurance company, but the changes aren’t going to cost a lot more than putting it back the way it was. And I’ll stress the safety issue.”

  Their waitress appeared and removed the dessert plate. “Anything else for you tonight?”

  Jamie quirked an eyebrow at Helen. “Coffee?”

  “I suppose so.” She closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to work in the office tonight. But she’d gotten up late after her trip to the emergency room the previous night, and she’d followed the doctor’s orders and iced her ankle most of the morning.

  “I have a better idea.” He touched her hand once, sending a jolt up her arm. “Just the check, please,” he told the waitress.

  Helen fumbled in her tote bag for her wallet, and Jamie put his hand on hers. “No. This is on me. Meeting with the client is part of the cost of doing business.”

  She pulled her wallet out and opened it, dislodging his hand. She missed his warm weight immediately. “We didn’t have to go to dinner. We could have gone to the coffee shop. So I’m paying my share.”

  She put some bills on the table and slid her wallet back into her bag. Jamie looked at the bills, then up at her.

  “Okay. That works for me. Not a business meeting. A date.” He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “Lots of women like to pay their own way on a first date.”

  “It wasn’t a date. It was a…a discussion. Of my situation.”

  He nodded. “Lots of people discuss their situations on a first date.”

  Jamie had had the upper hand almost since the moment he walked in the door. Time to take back some control. “Okay. It was a date. But you didn’t tell me anything about your situation.” She leaned closer, and she saw him glance at the v-neck of her tee shirt. “Eyes up here, Evans.”

  Faint pink tinged his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “What were you saying?”