my God,” she whispered, suddenly remembering some of the news coverage she’d seen last winter, about corruption uncovered in the district attorney’s office. She didn’t remember seeing Oliver’s picture, or hearing his name, but she hadn’t really been paying attention, and the timing certainly made sense. “Were you the whistleblower?”
He stared into her eyes, not looking surprised she’d remembered the story. She didn’t recall any of the details; she just knew the media had had a field day with the previous D.A., whose own employee had accused him of judicial misconduct, including hiding evidence of innocence in a high-profile murder case.
“Yeah,” he said, lifting his mug and downing his beer.
“You were involved in that case where the kid in the gang was accused of murdering the pregnant mother?”
“It was my case. I was all set to go to trial when I found proof that he hadn’t done it.”
“And your boss buried it,” she murmured, remembering more.
“Tried to.” He leaned back, dropping his napkin onto his plate. “The kid was a punk, but it was mostly swagger. Maybe the close call will make him clean up his act.” he frowned. “Or he could get worse and end up killing somebody after all.”
“But he didn’t kill that woman?”
“No, he didn’t. I’d let myself go along with some of the crap you have to do to score convictions. Did stuff I’m not proud of. But I couldn’t be a part of convicting an innocent young man of murder, no matter what he might do in the future.”
Stepping forward and doing the right thing had been noble and admirable. But it had also probably cost him his job.
“Were you blackballed?”
“Blackballed, dumped by the woman I’d been seeing, shunned by people I’d thought were friends,” he said with a harsh laugh.
“That’s awful,” she muttered, focused more on the dumping than anything else. How could any woman do that to this gorgeous, amazing man?
He went on. “I can never go back to any D.A.’s office in California, and I’m not ready to switch sides just yet.”
“Defense attorney, you mean?”
“Right. I’m too jaded, too quick to see the bad side of humanity to start defending people I automatically assume are guilty. So for now, I dig, I shovel, I fertilize, I test pH, I till, I haul, I study. And I drink wine.”
“I think that last one’s my favorite.”
This time, his laugh wasn’t angry…it was soft and genuine.
Candace sat there and let the masculine sound wash over her. She’d seen him angry and tense, seen him sexy and aroused, seen him concerned. This was the first moment, though, that she truly believed she was seeing the real man, with his guard completely down. Seeing the Oliver he had been before his world had fallen apart last fall. She liked this man. Liked him a lot.
And oh, God, did she ever wish she had met him before she’d agreed to marry her best friend.
OLIVER WASN’T CERTAIN what had caused that warm, tender look to appear in Candace’s lovely eyes, but he figured it was bad news. He liked it better—felt safer—when she was snapping at him, taunting him, even flirting with him. This softness, this sweetness, this emotion he saw in her now, was way outside of his comfort zone.
He should have kept his fat trap shut. He should never have told her anything about himself—his past, his regrets, his shame. Because now, he greatly feared, he’d opened up a window through which she could climb, going around his instinctive defenses.
So let her.
Huh. Maybe he should. He still wasn’t ready for a relationship, still hated the idea of messing around with Buddy’s granddaughter while the old man was laid up. But he had to admit, he found Candace incredibly easy to talk to. She had heart and brains to go with that boatload of sex appeal, which made her a triple threat. He couldn’t deny he was tempted to take what she’d offered yesterday morning and last night. Maybe hooking up with someone who would be leaving in a week or so was exactly the right way to get back in the game of life.
Unfortunately, now that he’d realized he liked her as much as he wanted her, hooking up seemed less appetizing than it had before. He sensed it would satisfy him physically, but would just make the emotional strings that much harder to untangle. And emotions were still not his strong point.
“Will you excuse me a minute? I need to run to the ladies’ room,” she said.
He pushed his plate to the edge of the table so the overly flirtatious waitress, who’d come on to him every single time he walked into this joint, could pick it up. “Sure. I’ll ask for the check.”
She reached into her purse.
He waved a hand. “Forget it. It’s on me.”
“No way. You don’t bring down the big bucks anymore.”
He lifted a brow in challenge, remembering she’d said she was between jobs right now. “At least I’m employed.”
“Good point. But I think I can spring for one hamburger.”
Frankly, it was worth every penny to pay for her meal, if only for the pleasure of watching her eat that cursed ice cream.
He watched her walk away, again noting the changes in her wardrobe since she’d stopped wearing her sister’s more loose, casual ensembles in favor of stylish, extremely colorful and bright stuff. Her jeans were fire-engine red. She wore them with spike-heeled black ankle boots, and a silky blouse that fell off one shoulder. Every guy in the place watched her go, Oliver included.
He would bet every other guy in the place would give his left nut to have kissed her, and touched her the way he’d touched her twenty-four hours ago.
You’re a brainless bastard to have walked out on her like that.
If he had the day to do over again, he sensed yesterday would have ended up very differently. He only wondered if it was too late to change things.
After she’d left, Oliver signaled for the waitress, cutting her off when she tried to engage in small talk. It had been fine that she’d flirted when Candace was around to see and get a little tight-lipped, but now that she was gone, he couldn’t be bothered to play along. He hadn’t been interested in this woman, or any of the others he’d met since coming here four months ago. Only one interested him.
So what are you going to do about it?
He honestly didn’t know. But the more he got to know Candace, the more he wanted to do something.
“Hey, dude, you better watch it. She’s toxic.”
Startled, he looked up to see one of the jocks from the next table leaning over the back of his booth. He gave Oliver a look
