mixture of the organic vegetables he sautéed. She leaned over the skillet. “Mmm...smells like heaven.”
“Thanks. Just need to add the shrimp and the brown rice will be done soon.”
“You need some help?”
“You can stir this for a minute or two while I cut the shrimp in half.”
“Sure.” She scooted in front of him and reached for the cooking fork. His hands grasped her waist, and her breath caught in her throat when he slid his body over hers as he moved over to the shrimp on another cutting board.
“These are some huge shrimp,” he said, cutting them in the middle and tossing into a bowl with teriyaki sauce.
Scared to utter a word, she nodded her head in agreement. She couldn’t believe she was actually nervous around him. She was a GBI agent who’d interrogated some of the worst kinds of criminals, from drug dealers and gangbangers to serial killers and child molesters. She carried a gun, did karate and could bench press almost half her weight, yet found herself a fumbling mess around him. This is a first, she thought.
When his task was complete, she took a huge step back so he could retake his place at the stove, and she wouldn’t have to endure his body on hers again.
Sydney opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bottle of white zinfandel that had chilled for five days in anticipation of Friday night. She needed a gulp of it, especially after Bryce’s rock-hard body had pressed against hers. Even though it had been a mere innocent second, heat had erupted through her veins at his touch. She didn’t know how much longer she could tolerate him being there without wanting what happened at the hospital to transpire again. She couldn’t believe her thought process, but she decided to chalk it up to not being intimate with a man in a long while. The kiss had rumbled pent-up desires. That was all. It didn’t mean she wanted Bryce. She could barely stand him, even though he was being quite the gentleman at the moment.
“You want a glass of wine?” she asked, heading toward the dining room to retrieve the corkscrew and the wineglasses from the refurbished china cabinet that once belonged to her grandmother.
“Sure. It’ll go great with the stir-fry.”
Even though this wasn’t how she’d planned to spend her Valentine’s evening, she decided to make the best of it and to avoid conversations that would lead to their usual arguments—no matter how sexy he looked when he was mad.
* * *
“Well?” Bryce asked as he watched Sydney taste the shrimp stir-fry. They were sitting by the fireplace—her on the floor in front of it with her legs tucked underneath and him on the couch facing her. The color in her face was finally returning, and she didn’t seem as weak when he’d first arrived at the hospital. But what was still present were her blaze-filled eyes even though they had simmered down.
“This is delicious. I’m rather surprised you know how to cook.” She took another bite and moaned, closing her eyes. It was the same moan she’d exhaled when he’d kissed her earlier.
Am I delicious, too?
He sipped his wine and tried not to focus on her tongue as it licked across her lips. But it was no use. She was adorable. Even with her hair wrapped in a scarf, no makeup and oversize sweats, she stirred something in the pit of his stomach.
“Despite what you think of me, I do have some domestic capabilities. No, I don’t cook often but I do know how.”
“I’m sorry, Bryce. You’ve been so wonderful to me today, and I keep finding ways to say something crass.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to your bantering with me.”
“Okay...I tell you what. Tonight, no arguments. We’ll avoid any conversations that have to do with our careers—especially cases where you may be representing someone that the GBI arrested.”
He laughed. “You don’t have to worry about that. Today was my last day at Baxter, Clemmons and Strouse.”
She dropped her fork and her jaw to the plate. “They fired you?”
“No. I resigned. I’m in the process of starting my own firm. Something I’ve been thinking about for a while. When the senior partners told me I’d never make partner with them, I knew it was time for a change.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I know we have our disagreements, but you’re the best attorney I know. Do they realize how valuable you were to them? Did they try to stop you?”
“Oh, yes. A hefty hourly raise, bonuses, use of the private jet and a company Mercedes, but not senior partnership. I already have use of my family’s private jet and I own a Maybach, so nothing they offered impressed me.”
“You know, I’m kinda surprised you even worked for them. Why didn’t you start your own law firm earlier? You’re a Monroe. I doubt you would’ve had a problem attaining clients.”
“I’d thought about it, but sometimes you have to work for someone else in order to obtain the experience you need before branching out on your own. I’ve learned a lot working there, but I was ready for an advance in my career. There comes a time when you have to move on. When you’ve outgrown where you are.”
Sydney simply nodded her head with a faraway look in her eyes. Bryce noted her wistful expression. He wanted to ask her what it was about, but he didn’t want to pry. Besides, they were actually getting along for once. No need to ruin it.
“So have you started looking at office buildings?”
He finished chewing his food before answering her. “Oh, yeah. I have some things in motion. However, I’m going to take a much-needed vacation and go to Vegas next week.”
“You like to gamble?”
“No. There’s a motorcycle fest going on, so I’m driving up on Wednesday. I go every year.”
“That’s sounds like fun. Riding one of your bikes?”
“Driving my SUV but hitching the trailer up for my favorite motorcycle or two. You should go.”
“Some of us have to work,” she teased with a wink and leaned her back against the bottom of the chair next to the fireplace.
“True, but you need a vacation. When was the last time you took one?”
“Um...” She swished her lips to the side. “I...um...”
“You’re taking too long to answer,” he teased.
“Not since last summer to hang out with my cousins in Memphis.”
“Well, I’m sure your brain and body need some relaxation away from work. Otherwise you wouldn’t have passed out, and we wouldn’t be here eating my shrimp stir-fry.”
“Yep. Better than the pizza I was going to order,” she said, placing her empty plate on the table and sipping the last of her wine.
“You should seriously think about taking a vacation soon. Just hop on that pink Harley I saw in the garage and ride off somewhere for a few days.”
