the information kiosk. She suspected he thought working there would be an excellent way of meeting women. The notion of a defendant—particularly this one—spending his community service flirting annoyed her. What annoyed her even more was her ridiculous, bordering-on-jealous contemplation of him flirting with other women.
“Ahh…Judge? I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“Deputy O’Malley!” she snapped. “Please do not interrupt me.” Returning her attention to the defendant, she fixed him with a glare that brooked no argument. “In addition to cleaning the development company’s vehicles, you’ll complete fifty hours of community service.
“As you apparently enjoy the company of senior citizens and have no real qualifications, you can do the ironing and shovel snow at the Twilight Years Retirement Home. You have one month to complete your assigned service. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Becky wished he’d stop calling her that, especially in that lazy drawl of his. It woke long-buried desires. She’d been so busy with her career and raising her young son—the result of her short-lived marriage—that sex and romance simply weren’t on her agenda. Yet from the moment Will O’Malley had looked up at her and smiled, she’d felt a bolt of sexual awareness she hadn’t experienced in a very long time—if ever.
She checked his details. He was thirty-two—four years younger than she was. Definitely not what Becky wanted in her life—a younger man, especially one who was irresponsible and had no respect for authority or the law. A charming rogue was not the answer to her sexual frustration. Not that she was aware she had any until he’d walked into her courtroom. She needed to get him out of there, fast. “If there’s nothing further—”
“Well, I do have a question…”
“Yes, Mr. O’Malley?”
“Would you have dinner with me tonight?”
Becky blinked. Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Excuse me?” she said, and tried to ignore the warm flush climbing up her chest.
“I asked if you’d go out with me tonight.”
The court audience leaned forward, eagerly anticipating her response.
Will O’Malley was without doubt the best-looking defendant who’d ever stood before her. The fact that he’d pleaded guilty straight up—rather than offer a host of excuses—impressed her. But he was a defendant and strictly off-limits.
Furious that her body was telling her one thing, while her brain told her another, Becky answered him more harshly than she’d intended. “No, Mr. O’Malley, I won’t,” she said and slammed down her gavel. “Get out of my court!”
Chapter Two
“That went better than I expected,” Will said as he and Matt walked outside into the crisp winter morning.
Snow had fallen overnight, turning the town into a perfect Christmas card scene. Skiers trudged along the sidewalks, headed for the slopes, while sightseers gazed into shop fronts, admiring the Christmas displays. Carols sounded merrily from the tourist office. The holidays were only a couple of weeks away—Will’s favorite time of year.
Matt sighed. “Define better than you expected. You’ve been assigned fifty hours of community service and had the judge very publicly turn you down for a date. Doesn’t anything ever get you down?”
Will shrugged. “Nothing I can think of at the moment—apart from losing those old buildings.” He couldn’t tell Matt about the avalanche and the nightmares. Not yet.
“Don’t you feel humiliated?”
“Nope. I deserved the punishment and I’ll enjoy spending time at the old folks’ home. Lots of interesting characters there. As for the delectable judge, she’ll come around.”
Matt rubbed his chin. “I’m not so sure. She keeps to herself.” He paused. “And don’t you dare even think of pursuing her and then take off on another one of your crazy adventures, leaving the rest of us to pick up the pieces.”
Will opened his mouth to answer the accusations but, as usual, Matt hadn’t finished telling him off. “And what the hell was all that, ‘I’m going to marry that woman someday,’ nonsense?”
Will grinned and said, “Bashert.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. His voice dripping with mock sarcasm, he said, “You spent two weeks skiing in Israel last winter and now you speak fluent Hebrew?”
“Actually, it’s Yiddish. And I’m far from fluent. Bashert is the instant recognition of one’s soul mate.”
“I’m aware of what it is! It happened for me with Sally,” Matt said testily, referring to the deep and instant love he’d felt for his wife. But a drunk driver had killed Sally two years earlier. She was seven months pregnant at the time.
“And Dad with Mom,” Will said, trying to distract Matt from grieving over Sally. He wasn’t comfortable with deep emotion. “Seems like bashert’s an O’Malley tradition.”
“Not where Luke’s concerned.”
Their oldest brother’s ex-wife, Tory, had made Luke’s life a living hell. Although he’d been divorced for a couple of years now, Luke was still a grouch.
“True. But I’m positive about the judge.”
Matt raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Really? You haven’t checked out her other assets. For all you know, hidden behind that bench might be three hairy legs and a pointed tail.”
Will grinned at his brother’s rare attempt at levity. “You’ve been reading too many of those kiddie fantasy novels to young Sash.” Sasha was one of their much-adored nieces and Luke’s oldest daughter.
“Speaking of children, the judge has one of her own.”
“She’s married?” Will felt sick to his stomach.
Matt placed a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. She’s divorced. But I’m sure the thought of having to compete with another child—” Matt emphasized the word “—for the judge’s attention, should be enough to quench your fires.”
Ignoring the jibe, he said, “A kid? How d’you know?”
“Because I listen to people.”
“So you’ve had the opportunity to chat with the object of my affections?”
“I have.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is she as immune to your charms as she’s trying to be to mine?”
“I think you could confidently say she’s completely immune to your charms.”
“On the contrary. I think she’s intrigued.”
“Yeah. Right. Face it, buddy, Judge
