Making a case for love...

Struggling law student Bailey Sinclair is working two jobs to make ends meet on the night a charismatic stranger walks into her bar. The attraction between them is instantaneous—and explosive. Until Bailey discovers that her anonymous hunk is none other than Justin Lawson, one of the richest, most hotly pursued bachelors in all of Baton Rouge.

Justin is thrilled to discover that the woman managing the bar at his family’s celebration at the Lawson mansion is the intriguing beauty he hasn’t been able to forget. Now all he wants is to lavish Bailey with gifts and his passionate attention. But she’s too proud and independent to accept his help—and determined to make it on her own. They may come from different worlds, but doesn’t Bailey realize there are no obstacles to love...if she’s willing to trust him with her heart?

“I have no idea how to work this thing.”

Justin grinned. “Help is on the way.”

He crossed the room with the wineglasses, gave Bailey hers and tapped their glasses together. He leaned down and kissed her lips. “Hmm, sweet.”

Bailey’s insides vibrated. She couldn’t imagine what making love to him would feel like. Inadvertently, she moaned.

Justin tipped his head toward her in question.

“The wine...it’s really good.” At least she was still thinking on her feet.

“Glad you like it.”

He turned his attention to the system, pressed a few buttons, and Luther Vandross’s sultry crooning wafted around them.

Justin took Bailey’s glass from her hand and placed it on the side table. “Dance with me.”

Bailey sputtered a nervous laugh. “Dance with you?”

“Yes.” He stepped to her, slid one arm around her waist and eased her close. “Like this,” he murmured against her hair.

Her eyes drifted closed when she rested her head against his chest and she silently prayed that he didn’t feel her body trembling. Her pulse roared in her ears.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the latest installment of the Lawsons of Louisiana series. You’ve met several of the members of this dynamic clan, shared in the intrigue, their complicated loves and exciting lives. Now I want to introduce you to the youngest member, the sensual Justin Lawson. Much like his siblings Lee Ann, Dominique, Desiree and Rafe, Justin intends to forge his own path, his way. And like his siblings, when he sees something he wants, he goes after it. What he wants is the heart and soul of Bailey Sinclair. However, it won’t be easy to convince the very independent Bailey that it’s time for someone to love her, to care for her the way that she has taken care of her siblings.

I love writing about the Lawsons, who split their time between Baton Rouge and Sag Harbor. The locales are perfect backdrops, and the complications that their status and money afford them are great fodder for sexy, thrilling and satisfying stories that I hope each of you enjoy.

So sit back, relax, grab a glass of wine and enjoy the journey to love with Justin Lawson and Bailey Sinclair. I guarantee that you will be glad you did.

Also, be sure to check out all of the books in the Lawsons of Louisiana series. There are plenty more to come.

Until next time,

Donna

The Way You Love Me

Donna Hill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DONNA HILL began writing novels in 1990. Since that time she has had more than forty titles published, which include full-length novels and novellas. Two of her novels and one novella were adapted for television. She has won numerous awards for her body of work. She is also the editor of five novels, two of which were nominated for awards. She easily moves from romance to erotica, horror, comedy and women’s fiction. She was the first recipient of the RT Book Reviews Trailblazer Award and won the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award, and she currently teaches writing at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center.

Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her website at donnahill.com.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Copyright

Chapter 1

The stack of overdue notices glared accusingly up at Bailey from the backdrop of her wobbly kitchen table. Credit cards. Car payment. Student loans. Overdraft fees. They all read the same: “Dear Ms. Sinclair: Overdue. Demand for payment. Respond in ten days.” One after the other. What was not in the pile was what she needed most—the scholarship letter that would pave the way for her to return to law school in the fall.

She’d applied for every scholarship that she could conceivably be eligible for but had yet to receive a positive response. For years she’d put her life on hold for her family. This was her time, but now with the fall semester beginning in just over four months, her goal of completing her law degree was becoming more of a dream than a reality.

Bailey stuck the notices back in their envelopes and stared out of her third-floor apartment window at the approaching dusk that had turned the horizon into a soft rosey hue. She drew in a long breath. Sitting there wishing things were different wasn’t going to get the bills paid. She had a job to get to, and her shift at the Mercury Lounge would not wait for her. She pushed back from the table, and it rocked in response.

The Mercury Lounge was the hub for the who’s who of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. On any given night the patrons ranged from the average customer to politicians, business entrepreneurs, and entertainment and sports figures. She enjoyed her job. Meeting new people, listening to their stories and their problems fed her legal mind, and, of course, there were the regulars who came in to simply get free advice. Too bad that enjoying what she did for a living wasn’t enough to keep her afloat.

Fortunately, she had her side hustle with her best friend, Addison Matthews, whose business was catering parties for the rich and fabulous. The extra income certainly helped, but it was no longer enough.

Addison swore that if Bailey would loosen up and give a play to one of those sexy, wealthy men that were always hitting on her, she could put an end to the demand notices and collection calls and return to school. Not to mention the perks of having a man to warm that big empty bed of hers at night. Bailey had stopped listening to Addison. She knew all too well what running after money could do. It destroyed lives, and the trait ran in her family like a string of corrupted DNA, and she vowed to break the chain. That meant doing it on her own no matter how difficult that might be.

Bailey grabbed her purse, a light jacket and her keys then headed out, hoping on her way downstairs that her ten-year-old Honda—that was five years old when she bought it—would start, just as the ringing of her cell phone slowed her steps. She glanced at the name on the face of the phone. Her sister Tory. Her stomach knotted.

“Hey, sis.” She threw up a silent prayer. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Bailey. I know you’re probably getting ready for work.”

“I’m on my way out the door.”

“Um, you know I hate to ask...”

“What is it, Tory? What do you need?”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” she whined petulantly.

Bailey silently counted to ten. “What do you need, sis?”

“I’m behind on my rent.”

“Again? Tory...”

“I just had more expenses than I thought this month.”

“More shopping and partying.”

“That’s not fair!”

“How much, Tory?”

“Twelve-hundred dollars.”

Bailey’s jaw tightened. She did a quick calculation in her head. Giving her sister twelve hundred dollars would dig deep into her savings, set her back on her own plans. But Tory was her younger sister, and she swore when their mother died that she would take care of her sisters, no matter what. “Fine. I’ll put a check in the mail.”

“Thank you, Bailey. I really appreciate it. I swear I’m going to do better, sis.”

“Sure. Listen, I gotta go.”

“Okay. Thanks again. Love you.”

“Bye, Tory.” She disconnected the call, and her shoulders slumped.

* * *

Bailey arrived at the Mercury Lounge, and the instant that she stepped through the doors she felt the energy and knew that it would be a busy night. Busy was good. Busy meant plenty of customers and lots of tips. She finger-waved and lifted her chin in salute to several of her coworkers as she strolled through the lowest level of the tri-level venue. She still had about an hour before her shift started and plenty to do until then.

Although she was originally hired as a mixologist three years earlier, the owner, Vincent Mercury, “saw something” in Bailey, and when an opportunity presented itself, he offered her the assistant manager spot with a nice bump in her salary. Combined with her duties of running the bars, things started looking up for her financially. That all changed, with one thing after the other.

“Vince in back?” Bailey asked Kim, the Friday night hostess.

“He went upstairs to check on the setup in the private dining room. We have that party tonight.”

Bailey squeezed her eyes shut for an instant. She’d totally forgotten. “Right.” She should have come in earlier. “Guess I’d better get busy.” She continued on toward the back offices tucked along a narrow corridor. She dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked her makeshift office that had been transformed from a storage room that was about a half inch bigger than a walk-in closet. The tight space was big enough for a desk the size of a small kitchen table, two chairs and a six-drawer file cabinet. She’d had the room painted white and hung a floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall to give the illusion of space. A couple of potted plants, two wall paintings and a framed photo of her and her siblings made the space cozy without feeling overcrowded.

Bailey unlocked her desk drawer, put her purse in and locked it again. She opened the cover of her laptop and powered it up. The first thing that she needed to check was that all the staff that was scheduled for the night shift was accounted for and had not called out. Then she had to plan the scheduling for the week, verify the details for an upcoming local company luncheon and approve an order for linens that was requested by the floor manager. By the time she was done, it was about fifteen minutes before her shift at the bar was to begin, but she wanted to make a quick stop up to the private dining room and make sure that Vince didn’t need her for anything before she got behind the bar.

* * *

The private dining room was on the third level. One wall was glass and looked out over the city’s horizon. The space seated fifty comfortably, and for bigger events one wall retracted to join the next room that could accommodate another one hundred guests.

When Bailey got off the escalator the waitstaff was fully engaged in preparation. She spotted Vince on the far side of the room, giving directions while checking his clipboard.

“Hey, looks like you have everything under control,” she said, sidling up to him.

He barely glanced up at her over the rim of his glasses. “There’s always something that doesn’t get done,” he said, and his tone clearly relayed his annoyance.

“What happened?”

“The centerpieces were supposed to be crystal goblets with white orchids floating in water.” His brow cinched as he ran his hand through his golden-blond hair.

Bailey looked at the centerpieces, which were lovely but clearly not what Vincent requested. Instead, they were long-stemmed calla lilies in slender vases. And she realized immediately what the issue was. Even though the centerpieces were beautiful to look at, the size and type of flower obstructed the diners’ views of each other at the table. Bailey folded her arms and tried to think of an option.

“I have an idea.” She didn’t wait for Vincent to respond. She began giving instructions to the staff to take the centerpieces off the tables, load them onto a cart and two of them were to come with her to the basement storage room. She pulled out her cell phone and called Addison.

“Hey, Addie, listen, we’re in a bind. Remember those goblets that you used for your last catering job?”

“Yep. What’s up?”

“I need to use them for tonight. We still have them in our storage room here at the Mercury Lounge.”

“Sure. Not a problem. You didn’t need to call me for that.”

“I wanted to make sure it was okay.”

“Listen, I appreciate you being able to hold on to my stuff for me. With the catering jobs getting bigger and bigger, I’m running out of space in my apartment. Even though it’s been more cost-effective to purchase what I need instead of renting, it’s taking a toll on my square footage.” She laughed.

“I hear that. Anyway, thanks, girl. Gotta run.”

“Talk to you later.”

Once they reached the storage room in the basement, Bailey instructed the staff to box up the vases after removing the calla lilies. She laid the plants out on a long table, found a pair of scissors and started cutting the lilies down to size. Shortly after, the lilies were floating in the goblets and were being placed back on the tables.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Vincent said, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile. He gave her quick kiss on the cheek.

Bailey blinked in surprise. “Drive yourself crazy.” She patted his shoulder. “I have to get downstairs. My shift has already started.”

“Thanks again,” he called out.

She waved away his thanks and hurried off, pushing the impromptu cheek kiss to the back of her mind.

By the time Bailey returned to the ground level, the line for the early diners to be seated had grown. Every stool at the bar was taken, and the two bartenders were working their magic.

Bailey came around to the entrance of the bar. “Hey, Mellie, hectic already, I see,” she said and took her black apron from the hook and tied it around her waist.

“Girl, you would think this was the last stop in town,” she joked. She poured a splash of top-shelf rum over ice, dropped in a slice of lime and spun away toward her customer.

Bailey took a quick inventory of supplies and made sure that the snack bowls on the counter were freshened and full. Then she went to work, mixing and joking with the customers. She loved the teasing games she played with them, especially her regulars. It was all harmless fun, and it made the evenings fly by. And, of course, there were the more serious-minded conversations on politics, religion, cheating spouses and significant others and the customary legal questions. It all came with the territory.

She’d been going nonstop for about an hour when two seats in her section opened. One was quickly occupied. She took a cloth from beneath the bar counter and walked over to her new customer. She did what she always did: wiped down the counter, placed a bowl of snacks on the bar, shot him with her best smile and took his order.

“Welcome to the Mercury Lounge. What can I get for you?”

Carl Hurley scooped up a handful of nuts and tossed them in his mouth. He chewed slowly. “I’m actually waiting on my buddy until our table is ready. But how ’bout a Corona while I wait?”

“Not a problem.”

She turned away and went to get the beer and a glass. When she returned, the empty seat was occupied, and the two men were in an animated conversation. She was all ready to get into her routine when he turned and looked at her. Something hit her, like a flash or a shock or something; she couldn’t be sure. And for a moment she didn’t breathe when the light caught in his eyes, and he smiled. Not a full smile but halfway, just the corner of his mouth. She blinked and placed the bottle of beer and glass in front of her customer and forced herself to concentrate.

“Good evening. And what can I get you?”

The dark of his eyes moved really slowly over her face, and every inch that was exposed to his perusal heated. The pulse in her throat tripled its beat.

“Hmm, bourbon. Neat. Four Roses.”

“Coming right up.” She spun away, and her knees were gelatin-shaky. She drew in a breath and scanned the shelf for the bottles of bourbon, missing them twice before she recognized them for what they were. At least the glasses were right in front of her. She brought the glass and the bottle of Four Roses bourbon and placed the glass in front of him. “Say when.”

The warm brown liquid slid from the mouth of the bottle into the wide opening of the glass with a bare splash. The heady aroma aroused the senses.

“When...”

Bailey took her eyes away from what she was doing, and her gaze bumped right against his. She lightly ran her tongue across her bottom lip as she watched him bring the glass to his nose. Inhaled. Nodded. Took a sip. “Perfect.”

“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything else.” She managed to tug herself away from his magnetic pull.

“You okay?” Mellie asked as she dumped glasses in the sudsy water.

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem distracted. Not your usual bouncy self.”

“I’m good. A few things on my mind, that’s all.”

Mellie studied Bailey for a moment then shrugged. “Cool. I’m going to take my break as soon as things slow down.”

“Sure.”

“Wow, that guy down on the end is hot,” she said under her breath.

“Who?”

“Your customer. The one with the open-collar white shirt, no tie. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

Bailey’s heart thumped. “I try not to.”

“Girl, you must be angling for sainthood. Give me a minute with him.” She slid her eyes in his direction.

Bailey sputtered a laugh. “You need to stop.”

“And why would I do that?” she teased, emphasizing every word.

Bailey shook her head in amusement and went back to work.

* * *

Justin Lawson took a sip of his drink. His gaze kept drifting back to the woman who’d served him, subtly following her every move. “How long did they say we’d have to wait for a table?”

“At least a half hour. Didn’t think we needed a reservation.”

Justin glanced around. The lounge was pretty full with more patrons waiting to be seated. This was the first time he’d been to the Mercury Lounge. He’d heard good things about it, but he wanted to check it out before he brought Jasmine here.

“How is that case coming that you were working on?”

Carl sucked up a laugh. “It’s a mess.” He tossed back the rest of his beer straight from the bottle. “The usual corporate back room dirty deals, everyone trying to outmaneuver the other.” He shook his head.

Justin, like Carl, was an attorney. Both of them worked for one of the biggest law firms in Louisiana, and they both were working hard on the side to launch Justin’s nonprofit—The Justice Project—something that his father, Senator Branford Lawson, wasn’t pleased about.

What is it about my sons, Branford had boomed at the last family gathering. I build a legacy for them, pave the way for them and they go off and do what the hell they want anyway. If their father had his way, both he and his older brother, Rafe, would be embroiled in the political quagmire of Washington, DC. Rafe preferred the life of a jazz musician and womanizer. Justin always believed it was just Rafe’s way to piss their father off. But at least Justin, to appease his father, had agreed to take the position at the law firm Lake, Martin and Dubois, which is where he’d met Jasmine Dubois.

“Are you finished with the depositions?” Justin asked. He was almost done with his drink. He peered down the length of the bar to get Bailey’s attention.

“Should be completed by the end of the next week. I tell you, man, it’s been a nightmare.”

“Once we get The Justice Project off the ground, we can finally start doing the kind of work that we want to do—that needs to be done.”

“Not soon enough for me,” Carl said.

“Refills, gentlemen?” Bailey looked from one to the other, refusing to settle on Justin’s face.

“Another Corona for me.”

“And you?”

Justin studied the lines of her face, the way the tips of her eyes lifted ever so slightly, the soft rise of her breasts beneath the stiff black shirt, and the warm caramel of her skin. “I’ll take another.” He lifted his glass. The path of his gaze led to hers.

That spark popped between them again. Bailey sucked in a breath when Justin ran his finger around the rim of his glass.

“Coming right up.” She strode down the bar to retrieve the Corona from the icebox and filled a clean glass with bourbon.

“If you two get any hotter, you’ll set the joint on fire,” Carl teased.

Justin rolled his head toward Carl. “What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. You haven’t stopped checking her out since you sat down.”

“A man can look, can’t he?” He reached for a handful of cocktail peanuts.

“Yeah, but Jasmine’s doing her best to claim you.”

Justin heaved a sigh. “Yeah, Jasmine,” he murmured.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Let’s just say she would like us to be in a relationship, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He slowly shook his head.

“Hmm, makes it kind of tough with her being the boss’s daughter.”

“Yeah...exactly.”

“Here you go, gentlemen.” She placed the beer and glass in front of Carl and the bourbon in front of Justin. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“A table,” Carl groused.

Bailey smiled, and Justin’s insides shifted. He lifted his glass and let his gaze drop into the depth of his drink instead of the dark pools that were her eyes.

“We’re always busy on Friday nights. I take it this is your first time here.” She wiped down the space in front of them and refilled the snack bowl.

“It is,” Justin said.

“I wouldn’t want this to be your last time.” She was talking to them both, but her eyes were fixed on Justin. “Let me see what I can do about getting you a table.”

“We’d appreciate that...” Justin waited for her to fill the blank.

“Bailey.”

“Justin.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Justin.”

“Oh, and I’m Carl,” he said, feigning offense at being ignored.

Bailey laughed lightly. “Carl.”

Bailey and Justin shared a look of amusement before she walked off.

Carl’s cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the face of the phone and frowned. “Matthew...” He listened, and his expression grew tighter. “Okay. Give me a half hour. Thanks.” He disconnected the call and turned to Justin.

“What’s up?”

“I have to go back to the office. Matthew got a call from Judge Graham’s clerk. He wants us in chambers at nine tomorrow morning. You know how anal he is. I need to pull everything we have together on the obstruction case.”

“Need some help?”

“Naw.” Carl stood, finished off his beer and clapped Justin on the shoulder. “You stay. That’s why we have first-year associates for times like this. I’ll supervise, and they’ll work.” He lifted his chin. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll have much more fun here than back at the office.” He set his beer bottle down. “Tab is on you. Later.”

Justin chuckled and lifted his drink to his lips just as Bailey returned.

“I got you a table. Where’s Carl?”

Justin’s brow flicked. “He had to leave. Problem at the office.”

“Oh, well, if you still want the table...”

He halfway shrugged. “Can I uh, order some food and sit at the bar?”

Her heart bumped in her chest. She felt slightly giddy. “Sure. I’ll get you a menu. Be right back.”

Justin watched her walk away and was immensely grateful for the anal Judge Graham.

Chapter 2

Justin looked over the menu. He was pleased at the extensive selections and finally settled on a porterhouse steak, grilled asparagus and risotto.

“I’ll put this in right away,” Bailey said. “It might be a while. Would you like an appetizer in the meantime?”

“I’m a patient man.” He slowly turned his glass. “I can wait.”

Bailey tried to swallow, but her throat was so dry that she choked.

Justin leaned forward and reached for her. “You okay?”

She blinked away the water that filled her eyes. Coughed. Coughed again and wished that the floor would open. She cleared her throat. Her vision cleared, and she realized that the fire on her hand was Justin’s.

Bailey took a step back, slid her hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Guess something caught in my throat.”

Justin sat back down. “Well, I would have been happy to resuscitate you had the need arisen.”

Bailey’s stomach danced. There was that half grin again as if he knew something that no one else did.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She walked down the aisle to the other end of the bar to check on the customers and refills and could barely concentrate. What in the world was her problem? She was all twisted over some guy who could be a gorgeous serial killer for all she knew.

“Bailey, can you check the couple on the end while I fix these martinis?” Mellie asked.

“Sure.” That’s what she needed to be doing—paying attention to her customers, making sure that the bar was running at optimum efficiency, not getting all hot and bothered over some guy.

“What’s the deal with the two you were serving?”

“Oh, one of them had to leave. Business or something,” she added noncommitally while she prepared the drinks.

“The one who stayed is yummy. And you know he has his eye on you. You gonna talk to him or what?”

“Mellie...I talk to all of my customers.”

“You know what I mean. He’s hot. I know you have some ‘policy’ about interacting with the customers, but come on, girl...”

Hot. That he was. Her hand still tingled from his touch. But she’d never taken bar talk beyond the bar. To her it was the doorway to trouble, and she didn’t intend to open it. She talked, she joked, she provided drinks and that was all.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Mellie said as if reading her mind.

Bailey shook her head, returned the bottles to their place on the shelf and walked off to serve the customers.

* * *

Justin nursed his drink while keeping Bailey on his radar. Although he’d looked forward to an evening with his friend, he was actually glad that Carl got called back to work. It would give him some space to maybe get to know Bailey a little better. He sipped his drink. Jasmine.

When they’d met more than a year ago and went out a few times, he thought that she might be the one. Both of their fathers encouraged the relationship. Their friends thought that they were the perfect couple, but his brother, Rafe, of all people, was the only one who threw shade on the relationship. Rafe told him in no uncertain terms that Jasmine was the one “for the moment,” but not forever, and that he’d know forever when it hit him. He’d laughed off his big brother’s warning. Rafe was a notorious ladies’ man, and Justin was hard-pressed to take what Rafe said seriously. But as the months progressed, and Jasmine grew more clingy, more demanding and more of what he was not looking or ready for, he was forced to tell Jasmine where they stood.

“Dinner is served.” Bailey placed his meal in front of him.

Justin glanced up from the warm amber liquid of his glass only to swim in the depths of her chocolate-brown eyes. A slow heat flowed through his limbs. “Looks good. Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Enjoy.” She started to walk away.

“Hey, uh, Bailey...”

She stopped and turned back to him. Her brows rose in question.

“How long does this place stay open?”

“Last call is at one. We close at two.”

He nodded. “Is that when you get off? Two?”

“Yes. Late shift.”

“Then what?”

She tilted her head. “Then what?”

“What do you do after you get off?”

“I’m usually too tired to do much more than go home...and go to bed.” She swallowed.

He forked some risotto.

The smooth crooning sound of Kem’s “A Matter of Time,” moved languidly through the sound system. “Do you get a break in between?”

“Usually...when things slow down.”

He nodded again without taking his eyes off her. “Stop by and check on me when you do.”

“I can do that.”

He lifted the fork to his mouth. “Looking forward.”

Justin put the food in his mouth, chewed slowly, and unthinkable images of his mouth on her body ran havoc through her head.

Bailey inhaled deeply. “Enjoy your meal.” She hurried away and told Mellie that she needed to run to the ladies’ room.

Once in the privacy of the employee restroom, Bailey closed her eyes. She was actually shaking inside. It was obvious that Justin was making a play for her. She knew the signs and normally she was able to fend them off with a joke or another drink or deflect it with banal conversation. All of her tactics escaped her. She felt as if she’d been sucked in quicksand and couldn’t grab on to anything to pull herself free. The music floated into the restroom.

Damn, damn, damn. She turned on the faucets and splashed cold water on her face and neck, snatched up a paper towel and dabbed the water away. She stared at her reflection. Get it together, girl. She sucked in a breath of determination and returned to her station.

* * *

Justin tried to concentrate on his meal, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Bailey. He could have been eating cardboard because he was only going through the motions. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that had him thinking things he shouldn’t be thinking. She was pretty. No doubt about that. But he’d seen and been with plenty of pretty women. That wasn’t it. It was something that seeped from her pores and wrapped around him like a longed-for hug. It held him, soothed him and yes, excited him. She wasn’t working him like so many of the women that he ran across. She had no idea who he was, who his family was. He wanted to keep it that way. He wanted—no needed—to find out what she was about, and maybe that discovery would answer the question that was hovering on the edge of his consciousness. Was she the one?

* * *

The evening moved on. The dance floor filled and emptied. The soft lighting tucked away in hidden places in the floor and pillars offered a seductive ambiance that was not lost on the patrons. Heads and bodies leaned close. Bubbles of laughter mixed with the music. Drinks flowed. Food satisfied the hungry palates. And Justin and Bailey teased and talked.

“So how long have you been working here?”

Bailey leaned her hip against the bar. “Going on three years.”

“You must like it.”

She smiled. His belly stirred.

“I do. You meet a lot of interesting people.”

“Rumor has it that bartenders and hairdressers are like going to a confessional.” His eyes caught the light and gleamed.

Bailey tossed her head back and laughed. Justin memorized the long curve of her throat.

“So I’ve heard. What about you? What do you do?”

He gauged his answer. “Attorney.”

Her brows rose. “Really?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. Actually, I’m working on getting back into law school.”

He rested his forearms on the counter. “Getting back?”

She lowered her gaze. “I had to drop out for a while.”

“Oh.” He nodded his head. “It can be hard.” He paused. “Do you know what kind of law you want to practice?”

“I know that I don’t want to work for a big corporate firm. My passion is to work with those wrongly accused and that don’t have the means for high-priced attorneys. I’m thinking the nonprofit sector.” She watched his expression and was pleased that he didn’t seem turned off by her altruistic vision.

“The business can certainly use more lawyers like you will be one day.” He reached for his drink.

“I hope so. What about you? What kind of law do you practice?”

He smiled. “The kind that you don’t want to be involved with, unfortunately.”

“Why do you say unfortunately?”

“I’ll put it this way. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t necessarily want to in order to get where we want to go.”

Bailey nodded.

“Tell me about law school Where did you go?”

“LSU.”

He hummed approval deep in his throat. He sipped his drink. “Good school. Is that where you’ll be in the fall?”

Bailey averted her gaze. “That’s the plan.”

Justin tried to reconcile her upbeat voice with her troubled expression—and couldn’t. He wanted to ask her what was really going on, but he had experience with reluctant clients. It was clear that she was hesitant and could have been for any number of reasons. What he also knew was that if asked the right questions and given enough space, a client would tell you everything you wanted to know.

“Law school, even under the best circumstances, is rough, especially if you have to take a semester off.” He casually glanced at her.

Bailey’s lips moved as if she would respond, but she didn’t. He tried again.

“My second year my best friend Carl had to drop out—family issues. In solidarity I took off a semester, too. My family had a fit. But Carl and I made a pact when we started that we would enter together and leave together.”

Her expression softened. “A man of your word.”

“I try to be.”

She offered a tight smile. “I better get back to work. Can I get you anything else?”

“No. I’m good. Just the check.”

She nodded. “Be right back.” Once he had his check there would be no reason for him to stay. She could only stall for so long. What if she didn’t see him again? Why was it even important if she did? She punched in the information for his bill. There was a solidness about Justin, a confidence and warmth that couldn’t be manufactured. She stole a look in his direction. She wanted to get to know him, and she knew deep in her soul that he was feeling the same vibe.

“Here’s your check.” She placed the bill in front of him.

He took a look at the bill. If he paid with his credit card, she’d know who he was. He wasn’t ready to cross that line yet. He wanted to get to know her on his terms without the distraction of the Lawson name. Bailey seemed down to earth, a regular woman with a good head on her shoulders, but they all did in the beginning. He needed to give this some time. He plucked his wallet from his inside jacket pocket and took out a fifty and a twenty.

“I’ll bring your change.”

“Keep it.”

Her brows flicked. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he said quietly.

Justin pushed back and stood. “How many nights are you here?” he asked.

She blinked. “Oh, um, most nights, except Sunday and one Saturday a month.”

“In that case, I’ll see you again. If that’s okay.”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

He gave her the full benefit of his smile that caused the lights to dance in her eyes. “See you soon, Bailey.”

“Take care.” He walked around the tables to the front and out the door. And for whatever crazy reason, he already missed her smile.

Chapter 3

Bailey chopped a bushel of collard greens while Addison seasoned a tub of crawfish. Addison had a bachelor party that she was catering for on the weekend, and there was still fish to fry and sticky rice to make.

“So, he was cute, huh?” Addison asked.

“More than cute.”

“Did you give him your number?”

“Of course not.” She paused. “He didn’t ask, but he did say he wanted to see me again.”

“That’s a start. What does he do?”

“Lawyer.”

“Jackpot!”

Bailey laughed. “You would say that.”

“Well, it’s true, but what’s more important is that you actually took an interest in somebody.” She glanced at Bailey from the corner of her eye. “It’s been a long time since Adam. All you do is work and take care of your selfish family. When is it going to be your time?”

“Addy, don’t start.”

Addison stopped with her seasoning and propped her hand on her hip. “You know it’s true, B. Your sisters drain the life out of you. You have bills up the you know what and no daylight in sight. You need someone—for you. Maybe this guy is it.”

“I’m not looking for some man to take care of me, Addy. I won’t be my mother.” Her features tightened.

Addison flinched. Men. Money. Mom. The three Ms that remained a bone of contention for Bailey, and no amount of prodding or coaxing had changed any of it. She pushed out a breath of apology. “Sorry. I don’t mean to... I just know how hard things can be for you. How hard they are.” She reached out and touched Bailey’s arm. “I’m your girl, Bailey. I only want you to be happy. That’s all.”

Bailey lowered her gaze. “I know,” she murmured. She slowly shook her head. “Did I tell you that Tory called?”

“How much did she want this time?”

“Twelve hundred.”

“What! Bailey...”

Bailey held up her hand. “Don’t say it, okay? I know.”

“Tory has got to stand on her own two feet, and she never will if you keep bailing her out.”

Bailey spun toward Addison. “She’s my sister. I can’t just...” She covered her face with her hands.

Addison came to her side and put her arm around her shoulder. “Sweetie, when it’s not Tory it’s Apryl with her man-crazy self. You can’t continue to carry them on your shoulders. They’re living their lives. When are you going to live yours? What about going back to law school? How are you going to manage that if you keep...” She blew out a breath of utter frustration.

“I made a promise to myself when my mother died. I promised that I would look after my sisters.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing. You put your entire life on hold, dropped out of school, worked like a field hand to take care of them and pick up their broken pieces over and over. It’s your time, damn it!” She slapped down the towel on the counter.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She focused on the sink full of greens, wishing that it would turn into dollars and make all her troubles go away. But money wasn’t the answer. Her mother was proof of that. But what Addison said was true. She knew that, as well. She did want someone in her life, someone to take care of her for a change, make her feel wanted, needed and loved. If she was waiting on that from her family, she knew she’d be waiting a very long time.

“What’s next?” Bailey asked, shaking the water off the greens and putting them in a giant pot of seasoned steaming water.

Addison looked at her friend and saw the resolute expression in the tight line of her mouth and knew that the subject of Bailey and her family drama was closed.

“The fish needs to be dredged in the seasoning.”

“Got it.”

They worked in silence for a while; the only sound was the boiling water and busy hands.

“I hope he comes back again,” Bailey said in a near whisper. She slid a glance in Addison’s direction.

Addison grinned. “She lives!”

* * *

Every night for the next two weeks Bailey went to work with the hopes of seeing Justin again. Each night ended in disappointment.

He wasn’t coming back. He talked a good game and that was it. What would a high-priced lawyer want with a bartender/would-be law student? This was why she didn’t get involved, didn’t hope for anything more than light conversation to pass the time. If you didn’t expect anything, you couldn’t be fooled or disappointed. But he’d seemed genuinely interested in her. It was probably her own need that she thought she saw reflected in him. Nothing more. He was no different from Adam. She pressed her hand to her stomach. No different.

* * *

“Hey, Bailey, it’s Addy.”

Bailey smiled. “Like you really have to tell me who you are. How long have we known each other—third grade?” She curved her body into the contours of her armchair and draped her leg across the arm.

“Must I remind you not to remind me how long we’ve known each other? It’s much too long, and we couldn’t possibly be as old as that third grade friendship would make us.”

Bailey snickered. “Whatever, girl.” She rested the novel that she’d been reading on her lap, and actually turned it facedown as if Addison could see that she was reading the steamy scene of a romance novel. “Whats up?”

“I’m in a jam.”

Bailey shifted her position. Her senses went on alert. Addison was the most together person she knew. If Addy was in a jam, what hope did she have? “A jam. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Relax. I’m in a jam because I have a mega big party to cater this weekend, and I’m short staffed. One of my bartenders has the flu, and a hostess is preggers. So I’m crossing my eyes, my fingers and toes that you’re free this weekend to help out. Pretty please.”

“Addy, you don’t have to ask twice. As strapped as I am for cash—I’ll be there. What day, time and where?”

“Saturday night. I need you at least by seven. Can you swing that with Vince?”

“I’ll make it work. I’ll do the early shift. Where is this shindig?”

“At the Lawson mansion. They are throwing an 85th birthday party for the family patriarch. The guest list is loaded with Louisiana’s who’s who, athletes, television and movie stars, the works. So I know tips are going to be off the charts.”

“The Lawsons...the father is Senator Lawson, right?”

“Yes.”

“You done made it to the big time, girl. Count me in.”

Addison breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I’ll text you the address. Maybe if we get lucky we’ll land us a rich ballplayer or something.”

“Whatever,” she chuckled. “See you Saturday. And don’t forget to text me the info.”

“Will do. Thanks again.”

“Not a problem.” Bailey disconnected the call, feeling a bit brighter in spirit. She could use every extra penny, so this job could not have come along at a better time. She picked up her novel and dived in with gusto. At least she could live vicariously through the love lives of the characters.

Surprisingly, Vincent had given her a bit of a hard time when she told him she would be switching shifts. They’d actually had a real back and forth until he finally conceded. It was so unlike him, at least with her. She knew he was overworked, but she carried her end and more. It had to be something else. Their little verbal sparring was days earlier and even though he’d said everything was fine, he remained distant with her, barely looking at her when he did speak, and then his conversation was minimal at best.

Well, whatever mood he was in, he would get over it, she thought as she hustled out of the Mercury Lounge to run home and change. The Lawson mansion was at the edge of the parish where the plantations once dominated the landscape. It would take her at least a half hour to get there from her house barring any Saturday night traffic.

* * *

When she finally pulled onto the street where the mansion was located, her eyes widened in awe. The sprawling lawn that had to be several acres in size was dotted with white tents that protected circular tables covered in white linen and topped with purple orchids. Red-vested valets were busy parking the cars that had already begun to arrive. Twinkling lights were strung through the overhanging trees that gave the entire space a fairy-tale feel. Soft music came from some unseen source and wafted across the warm night air.

Wow was all she could manage as a valet came to park her car after asking if she had an invitation. She could not imagine herself being invited to a place like this. Working here, maybe, but invited... It was so out of touch with her reality.

She turned over her keys, gathered her belongings and walked up the slight incline to the main entrance. If she thought only the outside was fabulous, she was sadly mistaken. The interior of the Lawson mansion was clearly out of some designer’s dream. It had the influence of the antebellum age with all of the modern twists. Stunning chandeliers spewed diamond-like light across the gleaming wood floors. The winding staircase looked as if it could lead to heaven and beyond. Long tables lined the walls on three sides, covered from end to end with silver-covered platters. There was a small raised landing set up for a band that was tuning up their instruments. Two bars were on either side of the room with an additional bar on the patio. The wide-open layout added to the feeling of spaciousness that allowed for a magnificent view of the entire ground floor. The back wall was all glass and opened onto an amazing deck and more acreage, a pool and additional outside seating.

The house was buzzing with staff, and the heady aroma of food momentarily made her dizzy when she realized that she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime.

“There you are! I was getting worried.” Addison grabbed Bailey by the arm. “They’re keeping the guests outside for the time being. Girl, I might be in over my head.”

Bailey glanced at Addison and actually saw panic in her eyes. “Why, what’s wrong?”

She lowered her voice. “I’ve never done anything this big or this important before. Suppose something goes wrong?”

Bailey squeezed Addison’s hand and looked her straight in the eye. “They’re just people who want to have a good time. You are a kick-ass caterer with an amazing staff and...you got me.” She grinned, and the tight line between Addison’s eyes softened.

Addison released a breath. “That’s what I needed to hear.”

“Good. Now, where do you want me?”

* * *

Within the hour, the front doors were opened for the guests, and the party was in full swing.

Bailey mixed a martini and handed it to the quarterback for the New Orleans Saints, followed by a gin and tonic for the morning show host for the NBC affiliate. Addison was right about the guest list. In the short time since the doors opened, Bailey had spotted several familiar faces from reality television, not to mention two Oscar winners. Addison was also right about the amount of work. They could barely keep up at the bar. She shifted her duties from one side of the room to the other and also supervised the bar outside. That didn’t include keeping up with refilling the flutes of champagne that the waiters carried on trays. Rich folks sure could drink.

She had yet to spot the guest of honor, but she did get a glimpse at a few of the Lawson clan that was pointed out to her by one of the other bartenders. They were certainly a good-looking family. What did it take to be this wealthy, to be on a first-name basis with people that she only read about? This was so not her world.

The steady hum of voices and trilling laughter mixed with the four-piece combo that had taken the stage. Couples bejeweled and bedecked made their way to the dance floor while others continued to mingle and network, eat and drink.

She looked up to take yet another order and stopped cold. It was Justin. He was heart-stopping in his tailored black tie ensemble. She couldn’t breathe. He was walking right in her direction with a stunning woman glued to his arm. What was he doing here? Her heart hammered, and she accidentally splashed vodka on the counter instead of in the glass. She quickly got a damp cloth to clean up the spill just as Justin and his date approached.

“Bailey?”

She shoved the rag under the bar. Her gaze jumped from his surprised expression to the cover model face of his date that looked more annoyed than anything else.

“What can I get you?”

“I had no idea...”

“I’ll have a cosmopolitan,” his date said, cutting him off.

Justin shot her a sharp look. Her brows arched as if to ask what?

Bailey got busy making the drink. Her hands shook.

“How have you been?”

“Fine,” she murmured. She finished the drink and placed it in front of his date.

“You’re chummy with the help now? That’s so like you, Justin.” She lifted her drink to her polished, plump lips.

“Jasmine!” he snapped.

Bailey was mortified.

He was about to say something to Bailey when a richly accented Louisiana drawl voice came over the microphone.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?”

By degrees the room quieted.

“I want to welcome each of you to my home to celebrate the 85th birthday of my father, Clive Lawson.”

There was a rousing round of applause.

Branford Lawson gazed out at the throng, clearly comfortable addressing a crowd. “Before we continue with the festivities, I want the members of the family to come on up.”

Jasmine tugged on Justin’s arm. Justin threw a look at Bailey from over his shoulder and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before walking away.

“First I want to introduce the family of Clive Lawson,” Branford announced. “My sister, Jacqueline, my uncles Paul and Jake Lawson, their offspring Craig, Miles, Alyse, Sydni, Devon and Conner and my brother David’s son, Maurice.”

One by one they each stepped up onto the platform, one more gorgeous than the next.

“And my brood—my eldest Rafe, my daughters Lee Ann, Desiree and Dominique and last but surely not least, my youngest son, Justin.”

Bailey’s mouth dropped open. Justin was a Lawson. Her temples began to pound.

“My father and my mother, Sylvia, God rest her soul, made all of this possible. He set the foundation for the Lawson family, and I hope that we have made and will continue to make him proud by carrying on the great tradition of the Lawson family. Happy birthday, Dad.” Branford raised his glass as did all of the guests as Clive Lawson slowly made his way to the front of his family.

Clive Lawson, even at eighty-five, was a powerfully built man. He still had a head full of snow-white hair, and the hard lines etched in his deep brown face told of his years of intense work and struggle, but the sparkle in his eyes told the real story. Pride.

Branford handed the microphone to Jacqueline, who passed it to her father.

Clive took in the eager faces. “Thank ya’ll for coming. I ’preciate it.” He nodded his head while he formed the words. “A man’s family is his legacy, and I couldn’t be more proud of mine.” He glanced behind him and smiled at his assembled family. “I know I can’t be here forever, but when I do leave, I know that I’ve done all I could. All I’ve ever asked is that my children and their children be true to themselves and make things better for the next. Thank ya’ll again. Now, let’s party!”

The room erupted in cheers and applause as the family stepped away from the stage, and the guests swarmed around Clive to wish him congratulations.

Addison appeared next to Bailey. “Big family, huh?”

Bailey was still in stunned silence.

Addison nudged her with her elbow. “Hey, you okay?”

“It’s him.”

“Him who?”

“Justin. The Justin that I told you about.”

Addison’s eyes widened. “Say what? Your Justin is the Justin Lawson?”

Bailey numbly nodded her head. “Yeah, the Justin Lawson.”

Chapter 4

For the rest of the evening Bailey performed by rote, going through the motions and keeping a painted smile on her face, but her mind was elsewhere. She periodically scanned the room for a glimpse of Justin, but at the same time she didn’t want to see him. His date’s comment about talking to the help still stung, and it certainly made her question his choice of companions. What was clear was that this was not her life. It was so far removed from her reality. The rooms reeked of money and power. And Justin was part of it.

It was nearing 2:00 a.m., and the crowd had finally wound down. Addison was still in nonstop motion, checking on every detail that was under her supervision. She worked with drill-sergeant efficiency in getting her staff to wrap up the festivities, clean up, pack supplies and load them onto the rented vans.

“Whew, what a night,” Addison huffed as she leaned against the counter. “We did it, and thank you so much for pitching in.”

“No problem,” Bailey murmured as she stacked glasses in boxes.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

Addison studied her friend’s contemplative profile. “It’s more than being tired. What’s up? Is it about Justin Lawson and that woman?”

Inside she flinched. “No. Of course not. I was surprised to see him here, that’s all.”

“And...?”

“And nothing.” She kept her gaze averted.

“Did you talk to him?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Because the few times that I did get a glimpse of him, he was looking in your direction, but his date was holding on to him like he was pumping air into her lungs.”

Bailey couldn’t help but snicker. “That she was. It doesn’t matter. If I even thought for a minute that there was any possibility for us to see each other, that went out the window tonight.”

“Why, because of that chick?”

“Mainly...and...just look at this place, the people who were here tonight. They come from a completely different place than me.”

Addison pushed out a sigh. “Girl, you don’t give yourself enough credit. Take off the diamonds and that designer gown, and you have the woman beat hands down.”

Bailey turned to Addison with a slight smirk. “You have to say that because you love me.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

* * *

By the time Bailey pulled into her parking spot, it was almost four in the morning. She was bone tired. All she wanted to do was take a hot bath, get into her bed and sleep for two days. Thankfully, she wasn’t on duty until seven that evening, and she intended to spend every minute of it off her feet.

* * *

The Mercury Lounge was already busy by the time Bailey arrived. Although there wasn’t a waiting list for tables, she knew that wouldn’t last long. She waved hello to her coworkers and walked through the space to her back office. She quickly reviewed the roster for the evening and verified the schedule. Satisfied that the lounge was fully staffed for the current shift and the following day, she changed clothes to her standard black blouse and slacks and headed out front. Vincent was off tonight, so she had double duty to manage the bar as well as run the restaurant. She did a quick walk-through on each of the levels, chatted briefly with the staff and floor managers and visited the kitchen to check in with the chef. Thankfully, there were no private parties going on tonight that she had to worry about. All systems go.

Addison had promised to drop in later on and hang out for a while to chat. She was looking forward to seeing her friend. They hadn’t had a chance to catch up and gossip since the party. The party. A twinge tightened her stomach. She still had a hard time believing how it all went down with Justin. First to find out that the man she’d been fantasizing about was a member of one of the most wealthy and powerful families in the state of Louisiana. Second, he was clearly involved with someone else. She shook her head in resignation. It was a nice fantasy while it lasted. She tied the apron around her waist and went to work. Soon she was fully involved in chatting up the customers and mixing drinks. And then there he was, coming through the front door, and she wanted to go through the floor.

Justin spotted Bailey right away and strode purposefully in her direction. Her feet felt glued to the ground.

“Hey.” He slid onto the bar stool.

“Hi. What can I get you?” She refused to engage in eye contact.

“Jim Beam. No ice.”

She gave a brief nod and turned to the row of bottles behind her.

“Ohhh, I see Mr. Fine is back,” Mellie said, sidling up to Bailey.

“Yep,” she said noncommittally. She reached for the bottle and nearly dropped it because her hands were shaking so badly. She managed to fix the drink and place it in front of him.

“Here you go. Anything else, let me know.” She started to turn away, and Justin grabbed her hand.

“Wait.”

She glanced down at his hand covering hers. Electricity skidded up her arm. Her lips parted slightly so that she could breathe.

“I want to apologize about the other night.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes, there is. Jasmine was rude, and her comment was uncalled for. I don’t want you to think that’s how I think or what I feel.”

She blinked. Her thoughts scrambled. She swallowed. “Whatever.”

“It’s true.”

Her heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn’t let go of her hand, she would self-combust. She pulled her hand away. “Thanks for the apology. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“And I’ll be right here until you talk to me.”

She threw him a look, and he stared right back at her. On shaky legs she turned away and walked to the end of the bar.

“What’s the deal with Mr. Handsome?” Mellie asked. “I saw him grab your hand. Girl, you need to stop playing so hard to get. Even Stevie Wonder could see he has a thing for you.”

“Mellie, would you please stop? He does not.”

“Hmm, okay. If you say so.”

Bailey dared to glance down the length of the bar, and Justin raised his glass to her. She quickly looked away. Was he really going to sit there all night? And where in the hell was Addison?

Bailey’s cell phone chirped in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Addy’s name on the screen. “Girl, where are you?” she asked under her breath.

“I’m running a little late. What’s wrong?”

“He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Him. Justin.”

“Oh, damn. Well, what happened?”

“Nothing. He said he came to apologize.”

“Okay, and...”

“And, I can’t talk to that man, and he said he’s staying until I do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously, he’s interested. He didn’t have to come to see you.”

“He also is obviously involved.”

“Maybe, maybe not. You’ll never find out talking to me. See you soon.”

Bailey heaved a sigh and stuck the phone back into her pocket. She glanced at Justin, who was nursing his drink. She straightened her shoulders and walked back down the length of the bar and stood in front of him.

“I accept your apology.”

He looked at her from beneath those incredible lashes. He set his drink down. “Good. That’s a start.”

“A start to what?”

“To us getting to know each other.”

“What about...your friend...Jasmine?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“You’re thinking that she and I have a real thing going on. That she’s my woman and therefore there is no room for an us.”

Her stomach fluttered at the tone of his word us. “There isn’t an us.”

“There can be. If you give me a chance to show you.”

“You still haven’t answered my question about you and Jasmine.”

“Ask. What do you want to know? I have nothing to hide.”

Her gaze darted around then finally settled on him. “What...how serious is it between you?” She ran her tongue across her bottom lip.

Justin angled his head to the side. “She is the daughter of one of the partners at the firm where I work. Her father and mine think that the two of us would make a perfect partnership.” He paused, looked beyond her defenses and seeped down into her center. “I don’t.” He slowly turned his glass on the bar top, studying the remnants of the amber liquid. He lifted his dark eyes. “I want to get to know you.”

Her heart thudded, and her flesh heated. The sound of his voice, the look of raw hunger in his eyes, had her wanting to believe whatever those luscious lips said.

She rested her weight on her right leg. “You used to getting what you want, Mr. Lawson?”

“Most of the time. But I do go after what I want...all the time.”

Her nipples tightened. She tore her gaze away. “We come from two different worlds. I’m not the kind of woman you’re used to.”

“How can you be so sure that you know what I’m used to...better, what I want?”

“I was at the party, remember? I saw the kind of circles you travel in.”

“And you think that’s all I am?”

“Aren’t you?” she challenged.

“No. And I want to prove that to you.”

“Why? Why me?”

He hesitated. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Day and night. I want to know what it’s like to kiss those lips of yours, to hold you, touch you, to whisper in your ear, to make love to you.” He ran the tip of his finger along her knuckles.

Her skin sizzled, and her clit twitched in response.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” she managed to eek out.

“I’ll be here when you get a break.”

And he was true to his word. Justin ordered dinner at the bar. And each time that she came in his direction, he made a joke, or shared something about himself, like how he painted in his spare time, that one of his favorite vacation spots was Sag Harbor in the summer, and that his older brother, Rafe, was one of his best friends. And Bailey laughed at his corny jokes and told him about her best friend, Addison, and how she helped her out from time to time. She told him that she really enjoyed her job and how much she wanted to get back to law school.

“You mentioned that the last time we talked. Law school. Maybe I could help.”

She stopped short. “What do you mean help?” she said a bit more harsh than necessary.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa. All I meant was that maybe I could make a few calls.”

“No! If I get in, it will be on my own, not because some big shot pulled some strings.” She spun away, fuming on the inside. How dare he? But what could she expect? Clearly he saw her as some poor waif who needed rescuing by a knight in shining armor.

“Hey, girl!”

Bailey turned around. “It’s about time,” she groused.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

Addison looked around and noticed Justin at the end of the bar. “Something go wrong?”

“Yeah, plenty. Be right back. We need some clean glasses.” She stormed off.

Addison eased down the bar and took a seat that became vacant next to Justin.

“Justin Lawson, right?”

“Yes.” He offered her a heart-stopping smile. His eyes cinched as he stared at her. “You’re the caterer.”

She grinned. “Good memory, especially with all the people there that night.”

He chuckled. “I try to remember faces.”

She extended her hand. “Addison Matthews.”

“Pleasure.” He reached for his drink and took a sip. “So you’re Bailey’s friend.”

“Best friend.”

“Hmm. Best friend.” He glanced in Bailey’s direction, and she was trying hard not to look interested.

“She’s hard to get to know.”

“Not really. She’s cautious, that’s all.”

He nodded. “Any suggestions?”

“About?”

“About how to get past all of her caution signs.”

Addison rested her forearms on the counter. She faced him. “Be honest. Bailey is a wonderful woman who puts everyone and everything ahead of herself. She could use someone in her life that puts her first for a change.” She offered a tight smile and slid off the stool. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson.”

“Justin.”

Addison glanced over her shoulder. “Justin.”

* * *

By the time Bailey returned with the rack of clean glasses, Addison was already in deep conversation with a guy who’d taken a seat next to her.

Bailey unloaded the glasses. Things were always so easy for Addison when it came to men. She was fearless. She didn’t care what anyone thought, and she went after who and what she wanted. There were times when she wished that she could be as cavalier about relationships; just get in them for the good times and move on. But she couldn’t. She wanted more than the momentary excitement. She wanted something that would last and someone that would make her a priority—for once. If there was one thing that Addy was right about, it was that she did need someone to take care of her for a change. Some days she simply wanted to get in her car and drive and keep on going. But she couldn’t. Her family depended on her. She finished stacking the glasses on the shelf and hanging them from the overhead rack, and when she turned around, Justin was standing in front of her.

“Wanted to say good night and pay my tab.”

A knot formed in her stomach. He was leaving. What if he didn’t come back? “Sure. I’ll put your bill together.” She swung toward the register. Her heart thumped, and her hands shook. The register spewed out his bill. She handed it to him.

Justin barely glanced at it. He reached in his jacket pocket and took out his wallet and handed her his black American Express card.

Bailey numbly processed the payment and returned his card. “Have a good evening,” she managed to say.

Justin stared at her for a moment. A slow smile moved his mouth. “Hope to see you again when I come back.”

She smiled in return. “I’d like that.”

Justin took a step back. “Night.”

“Night.”

He was coming back, and he wanted to see her. Bailey held on to that promise.

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