Tricks (Take It Off #6)(21)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“You’ve been acting weird. Sometimes it’s like you’re angry. Sometimes it’s like you’re a whole different person. And now we’re here, in a bar, and you’re chugging beer like it’s liquid courage.”

What would be the appropriate answer for this situation?

I drank more beer.

She leveled those green-flecked hazel eyes on me. “If you want out, say you want out.”

I respected her approach. I was used to women who would try to sleep their way into a relationship, who would try to use sex to hang on to a man. Never had I ever once been with a woman who actually called me out on my behavior and gave me an out.

I set the beer on the tabletop with a thunk. “I don’t want out.”

“Then what the hell is going on with you?”

The waitress chose that moment to deliver another beer and glass of wine. I accepted it gratefully. “Better drink up,” I told Charlotte.

“Are you having problems at work? Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said, knowing those words would make her practically foam at the mouth for answers. It was my way of actually keeping the conversation going without having to give up information. I wanted her to give up what she knew.

“Max,” she said, reaching across the table and taking one of my hands. An electric charge zapped through my body, like I was a completely dead battery that someone plugged in for a recharge. Sexual tension and desire threatened to take over my brain.

I used my free hand to deliver more beer into my system, hoping it would chill me out. The way she made me feel was unsettling. I didn’t like it.

“You know you can talk to me. You mentioned before about some stuff going on at the firm. Is that still going on?”

So Max tried to talk to Charlotte about this?

“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat.

“Tell me what’s going on. You know I can help you.”

I made a face like I was doubtful and she shook her head and squeezed my fingers. “I know you said you didn’t want me to get involved, but I’m involved already. I can see what this is doing to you. Maybe I can help. Maybe the partners at the practice can help you.”

She leaned over the table toward me, her fresh scent wafting around me like some kind of scarf. “Do you need a lawyer, Max?”

So he hadn’t told her anything. He was trying to protect her. If I hadn’t already been feeling fiercely protective of her, then I would now. Knowing he wanted her kept safe was just more incentive to make sure no one hurt her.

“I don’t need a lawyer,” I said, leaning in so we were inches apart. “What I need is another beer and a night where we don’t have to talk about this.”

On cue, the waitress set another beer at my elbow on her way past. When I looked up, she gave me a wink. She was pretty hot.

Charlotte sighed and sat back, pulling her hand away to wrap it around her glass. We sat in silence for long minutes, listening to the piano player. I noticed she was drinking her wine faster now and it made me think of the way she looked when I first stepped out of the elevator.

“I’m not the only one who had a long day,” I prompted.

“Yeah, but I scored a big client for the firm.”

I tapped my bottle against her glass and we both took a drink. “‘Grats,” I told her, studying her features. “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you don’t like being a lawyer.”

Her eyes flashed up to mine and she automatically started shaking her head. But I saw the truth when I first said it.

“You know how hard I’ve worked to be successful.”

“But are you happy?” I asked, sitting forward, genuinely interested.

It was an invasive question, one it seemed Max never asked her, judging by the deer-in-headlights look I was getting. She gulped some wine, finishing off her first glass and reaching for the second.

“You ever had a beer?” I asked, hitching my chin at the bottle and changing the subject.

She wrinkled her nose. “You know I don’t like beer.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Ew.” She sniffed haughtily.

I rolled my eyes. “So how can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?” I pushed the amber-colored glass across the table toward her. “Try it.”

She looked at me like I was insane. I did what I always did when a girl acted like she didn’t want to do whatever it is I wanted her to do.

I put my elbows on the table and leaned forward, catching her eyes with mine and giving her a half smile. “Please?”

She swallowed thickly. It was clear I had an effect on her. She stared at me for long moments, our eyes not breaking contact. Then she reached for the bottle.

Watching those heart-shaped lips wrap around the rim had my stomach muscles clenching. I wanted her mouth around my dick.

Because my beer was otherwise occupied, I grabbed her wine and took a drink.

She timidly tilted the bottle up until the liquid spilled into her mouth and I imagined the distinct flavor spreading across her tongue and sliding effortlessly down her throat.

She tilted the bottle again and her eyes closed briefly, her golden lashes sweeping down to conceal what could be considered weapons in certain countries.

After a few moments, she held the bottle out to me. “I like it.”

Her lips were shiny from the moisture of the bottle.

“Keep it,” I drawled. “Watching you wrap your lips around that bottle is far more intoxicating than drinking out of it.”

I heard her little gasp like it was the only sound in the room.

I signaled to the waitress that we needed more booze.

Charlotte took another sip out of the bottle and looked over at the piano. “This place is really cool. I like the piano.”

People were throwing little scraps of paper into a giant glass fishbowl perched on the top of the piano, putting in requests for certain songs. Once a song would end, the man playing would reach in and grab one and then start playing again.

“Do you play?” I asked, forgetting it was likely something I was supposed to know.

She shook her head. “Always wanted to learn. Never had the time.”

On impulse I reached out around the back of her head and found the damned clip that chained her hair back so fiercely, and I yanked it out.

“Hey,” she said when I dropped the clip on the table between us.

Long hair tumbled down her back. It was wavy, probably from being twisted so tightly.