Chapter 2
Chapter Two
S ophie cursed her shoe choice. While she was no stranger to high heels, she’d misjudged exactly how much time she’d be on her feet tonight. Usually she had her shit together when it came to the charity events she helped organize, but the last week had been particularly rough.
Her father had gone out of the country the morning after her conversation with Marc about the community center. She’d tried to call Dad several times, but between the time change and his business meetings, she kept getting his voicemail.
On top of her concerns regarding the center, her girlfriend Jordan had chosen the past week to dive back into the dating world after a very long hiatus. Much to Sophie’s delight, her friend had sparked the interest of two different guys. While Sophie was thrilled that Jordan was having such good fortune on the dating front, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. The lucky bitch had two guys fighting for her attention while Sophie was experiencing a long, painful string of bad first dates.
Getting laid would go a long way toward relieving some of her pent-up stress. Her vibrator was no longer cutting it.
Unfortunately, the only man who even remotely interested her sexually was Marc, the obnoxious lawyer.
Sophie had never laid eyes on the man before plowing into him on the sidewalk last week, but now it seemed she couldn’t turn around twice without seeing him.
Even though he continually pissed her off, she couldn’t stop thinking about him in an entirely inappropriate, completely sexual way. Despite his ability to annoy her, she couldn’t deny he was fucking hot, and there seemed to be some sort of dirty chemistry between them.
A couple days after their run-in at Books and Brew, she’d wound up in line behind him at the grocery store. They’d almost managed to feign politeness, talking about the hot weather and the city’s fireworks display. But the way Marc had undressed her with his eyes, giving her a far-too-seductive look as he admired her cut-off jean shorts and tank top, had tweaked her libido and her temper. While their words were innocuous, the conversation drove her mind down naughty paths as she considered the explosive heat the two of them could generate between the sheets.
Then she’d run into him last night at Patricia Butt–Bitch’s birthday party—the last place on Earth she’d ever expected to see him. Apparently he and Patricia’s brother had gone to law school together. As luck would have it, Marc had been seated next to her. He’d muttered inappropriate though admittedly hilarious comments about the birthday girl and her guests all evening. There was no debating that his disregard for the country-club crowd was genuine.
She pretended to dislike Marc whenever she spoke to her friends about him, sticking by her assertion that he was an asshole. Though her body and mind seemed to be at odds. Despite disliking his abrasive personality, Sophie wanted him. Badly.
Yes, he was a jerk for accusing her father of such horrible things and for judging her for her place in Portland’s social scene, but she still lusted after him. More than a few times his jokes had been laced with double meanings and sexual innuendoes. She’d been so frigging horny by the time she’d crawled into bed after the party, she’d tossed and turned all night.
Which was not helping her frame of mind right now. She was tired and on edge.
She headed toward the coat check to ask one of her volunteers, Charlotte, where she’d placed the box of extra flyers. Tonight’s fundraiser was generating money for the domestic abuse shelter, and so far things were off to a great start. She was also happy to have one of her friends in attendance. Jordan had shown up on the arm of not just one of her suitors, but both . Sophie admired her friend’s nerve and wondered which guy Jordan would ultimately choose, though she didn’t envy her the decision. Both Gabriel and Casey were great catches. Sophie hadn’t failed to notice the jealous looks Jordan was receiving from some of the single and even a few of the married women.
“Charlotte?” Sophie was annoyed to find the coat-check room unattended. She’d been an idiot to trust Charlotte to keep an eye on it. The woman was too flighty to take the task seriously. She was a regular at the bookstore, and when Sophie had foolishly mentioned her problem finding volunteers to help work the event, Charlotte had stepped forward. Sophie had accepted the offer, ignoring the voice telling her Charlotte only wanted to help so she could ogle the cream of society’s crop in a glitzy setting.
Now she was staring at an unprotected room full of expensive shawls and jackets.
“Shit,” she muttered. “Can anyone say liability ?” She stepped behind the check-in counter and into the room, intent on finding the extra flyers. Then she’d track down her “volunteer” and read her the riot act for leaving her post unattended.
Spotting the box in a corner, she crossed the small space and bent to retrieve it.
A wolf whistle sounded from the doorway.
Sophie rose quickly but the damage was done. Clearly she’d given someone an eyeful of her ass wrapped in its tight skirt.
Marc leaned against the doorframe, looking far too pleased with the view she’d offered.
“Wow. Sexist much?”
He gave her a seductive grin. She wished her body would stop responding to him so forcefully. Her stomach clenched, her pussy dampened and she was grateful for the box in her hands or Marc would see them trembling.
He was unapologetic. “When I see something beautiful, I feel the need to appreciate it.”
“And being the classy guy you are, you thought you’d whistle at me like a construction worker.”
“I thought you might prefer that response over the first idea that popped into my head.”
“Which was?”
“Stroking my hands over that gorgeous ass you just displayed for me.”
The battle between Sophie’s head and body flared. Her ass cheeks clenched, longing for that caress. Her less visceral side offered a reply. “Then you made the right call because I would have kneed you in the balls. Hard.”
He nodded. “That’s what I thought. Hence my whistle from all the way over here.”
His tone was light and friendly, making it impossible to take offense at his comments. The closet wasn’t that large, but his assessment was correct. Several feet protected his balls from her knee.
Sophie subtly pressed her legs together and tried to force air into her lungs. Apparently the space between them wasn’t that safe after all. She flushed as her body heated at their proximity—and semi-privacy.
The observant man’s dark-blue eyes narrowed.
He must be hell on juries. He notices far too much.
He stepped into the room. She tried to hide her shock when he closed the closet door behind him. The darkness was cut by a mellow glow provided by the low-watt fixture hanging in the center of the ceiling, and instantly she was reminded of nights spent beside a dying fire in her family’s large living room. She was a sucker for a fireplace.
Marc’s deep voice cut through the silence. “Maybe I was wrong.”
Her eyes tried to adjust to the dim lighting as he continued to move closer. “About what?” Her throat tightened, making her words sound thick and far too loud in the small room.
Marc didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took the box of flyers out of her hands, setting it on the floor. “You know I’m going to start coming by the bar, right? I feel the need to become a regular.”
“Why? You get some sick pleasure out of annoying me?”
He shook his head, his voice laced with humor. “No. That’s just a bonus.”
The answer was completely unsatisfactory, even though Sophie liked the idea of him stopping by. Despite her better judgment, she wanted to see him more too. “Then why?” she repeated.
“Because I’ll want to do this again.”
He leaned forward and kissed her.
The motion caught her unaware. Her body reacted instantly as his hands landed on her waist, pulling her close. Her breath seized, her body tingled in places she didn’t want to acknowledge and her heart began to race. This wasn’t good.
It was great .
His lips were soft but firm. He kissed like a man who was used to being in charge. He pressed harder, parting his lips and hers at the same time so his tongue could explore. She lifted her hands to his shoulders, her breasts brushing his chest. The action triggered a stronger response in Marc, who lifted one hand to her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair, directing her movements.
She felt the dampness between her legs give way to genuine wet heat. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, trying to get impossibly closer. Marc’s hand at her waist dropped lower, sliding until he cupped the ass he’d been admiring earlier.
The touch sparked two reactions in Sophie—full-fledged arousal and eye-opening comprehension of exactly what she was doing. The alarm began to sound, and her brain defeated her physical urge to strip them both naked, drag him to the floor and?—
She pushed him away, struggling to catch her breath and still her pounding heart.
Marc released her, and her body screamed out in anger at his easy capitulation.
“You have some nerve,” she said, hating the breathless quality in her voice.
He grinned, his face completely devoid of remorse. “You liked kissing me.”
“You caught me by surprise.”
He smoothed his hand along her cheek. It was a gentle touch with more physical impact than if he’d shoved those same gorgeous fingers inside her empty pussy.
“The evidence is indisputable. Surprise lasts for a few seconds at most. You let me kiss you for several minutes.”
Freaking lawyers.
Time to retreat. Regroup.
“Whatever.” Christ. That was it? That was her big, witty comeback? She needed to get her head screwed on straight because she was definitely losing her edge.
Stepping to the side, she walked around him toward the door. Once again, she was disappointed when he didn’t try to stop her. Jesus. This was bad. Really bad.
She reached for the knob at the exact moment Marc’s hand landed on the door, holding it closed. Her body shifted into overdrive at the power play. Since when was she turned on by shit like this? Usually she was the aggressor in her relationships, the top dog.
She spun to face Marc, refusing to let him think she was weak. “Careful, counselor. I’m still mad at you for your false accusations toward my dad and, despite my earlier surprise, I think you may find me way out of your league.” She tried to sound intimidating, unafraid, but she feared she fell short of the mark.
Especially when Marc leaned forward. Sophie thought he was going to kiss her again. Her eyes actually started to drift shut in anticipation, but at the last minute he changed direction until his lips landed beside her ear. She tried to repress the shiver of charged excitement caused by his hot breath on her face. She was only half-successful and could picture Marc smirking at her primal response.
“Don’t worry about me, princess. I know exactly what the outcome of this case will be. But by all means, keep proclaiming innocence if you want to. I like a challenge.” He followed up his taunt with a sharp nip to her earlobe that should have infuriated her, but instead shot through her like molten lava.
She sucked in a deep breath, searching for a rebuttal. Her brain had gone on permanent vacation. Instead of speaking, she pushed him away with more force than was necessary and left the closet.
She reached the ballroom before she realized she’d forgotten the flyers.
And once again, she’d let him get the last word.
* * *
Marc watched Sophie work the crowd, moving from table to table with grace and charm as she made certain each of the attendees had everything they needed to ensure they’d be not only happy, but generous as the evening progressed. He’d teased her about her job as a party planner, but he had to admit she had a flair for it. Not to mention the fact she was putting her talents to good use, raising money tonight for a cause that was quite close to his heart.
All his preconceived notions about the type of woman Sophie was were being destroyed, one after another.
After running into Ms. Kennedy outside his office last week, he’d done a bit of research on her.
His gut reaction when she’d plowed into him had been immediate suspicion. He wouldn’t put it past Jasper Kennedy to use anything or anyone to achieve his goal of acquiring the community center property. Its location in the city made it a prime piece of real estate.
He had to hand it to Jasper. The man had connections to everyone. The meeting in the judge’s chambers last week was a testament to that. It had been hastily arranged—the day before a holiday —no doubt to thwart the board of trustees’ intention to fight against the sale of the center. As a result, Marc had been forced to stay up all night preparing the documents needed to give them time to raise the funds to make the building improvements.
Finding Sophie Kennedy outside his door just minutes before he’d been preparing to battle her father’s lawyers had seemed far too coincidental.
However, fate had a perverse sense of humor. Especially when he’d discovered he had Sophie’s phone. Sharing a drink with her at Books and Brew had at least convinced him Jasper hadn’t been using his daughter to prevent him from making it to the meeting on time. If anything, it appeared her father was hiding his plans from Sophie.
During their conversation last night at Patricia’s birthday party, he’d learned she’d been unable to reach Jasper to question him, though she’d stuck to her assertion that her father was innocent of any wrongdoing. Marc briefly wondered if Jasper’s leeriness over his daughter’s response could somehow be used to the community center’s benefit, but if so, he couldn’t figure out how. Sophie refused to believe her dad was trying to close the center, and Jasper wasn’t around to confirm or deny it either way. In the meantime, the hourglass was running out and the center was in trouble.
Marc wasn’t sure why he kept making excuses to see Sophie. He’d pretended their grocery store run-in was a coincidence. Truth was, he had driven by the store as Sophie was walking in. And suddenly remembered that he needed milk. He’d turned his car around for an impromptu shopping excursion.
He didn’t have such a handy excuse for attending Patricia’s birthday party last night. When the brightly colored invitation had appeared in his mailbox a few weeks ago, he’d laughed out loud, tossed the thing aside and muttered something about hell freezing over before he went to the bash.
Next thing he knew, he’d found himself at the party and finagling a seat next to Sophie. Patricia had completely believed that he was hoping to chat with Ms. Kennedy in order to forge a business relationship with Jasper. Patricia—ever the social-climbing gossipmonger—had bought his story hook, line and sinker, and had been only too willing to change the table arrangements.
Marc was pleasantly surprised to discover how down-to-earth Sophie was. He’d assumed from the stories he’d read about her in the newspaper that she was another trophy-wife wannabe. He’d met enough of that type in his lifetime. It was one of the main reasons he’d walked away from a prosperous career in his family’s law firm and moved all the way across the country. He’d wanted to escape his family’s name and connections, to prove he could make it on his own.
He and Sophie had more in common than he’d let her believe. The Garretts were to DC what the Kennedys were to Portland. He’d left DC because he’d been working himself to death—and tired of fending off women who looked at him with dollar signs in their eyes, anxious to get a piece of the Garrett pie.
He’d expected Sophie to be shallow, more interested in her wardrobe than the needs of the community, but that wasn’t the case. And while her trust was misplaced, he’d been touched by her loyalty to her father. He’d been even more impressed by her genuine concern for the center.
After his research, he was less surprised by Sophie’s love for the place. He’d found several old pictures of her with her mother at community events and fundraisers. The center had clearly been an important part of her childhood and the relationship she’d shared with her mother, who had died when Sophie was a teenager.
Just seven days after running into her, Marc found himself knee-deep in an attraction he couldn’t understand, didn’t have time for, but wasn’t willing to deny. Despite the fact his pursuit of her was a freaking gigantic conflict of interest. Jesus. He’d never put his cock ahead of his career, but with Sophie, he found his sense of professionalism wavering.
Sophia Kennedy was beautiful, sexy as sin and, more than that, she intrigued him, a trait that had been absent in his last few girlfriends.
He recalled her response to him in the coat closet. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to kiss her, but something in her face had told him she was equally aware of the chemistry between them.
Sophie continued to make her way around the room, stopping at Gabriel Lawson’s table to talk to the woman sitting there. He’d heard through the grapevine that the wealthy bachelor was dating Jordan, the bookkeeper for Books and Brew. She was the only friend he hadn’t met last week. The way they leaned closer, sharing confidences, indicated their friendship was as strong as those he’d observed between Sophie, Jayne and Stephanie.
Sophie had her back to him and seemed to be fixing her hair in a mirror, but he could tell she was really looking at him through the reflection. When Jordan’s gaze found him as well, he knew they were talking about him.
He winked at Sophie, enjoying the way her shoulders stiffened just before she snapped the mirror shut and put it away. He was getting under her skin.
Now if only he could get under her clothes…
His gaze was broken when an acquaintance, Chuck Nelson, came over and stood next to him. “Damn monkey suit,” Chuck muttered, tugging at his bow tie.
Marc gave him a companionable nod. While he didn’t mind dressing up occasionally, he suspected Chuck’s tux had fit better when he’d bought it. The obnoxious real estate agent had gained quite a few pounds in the past year or so.
Marc suspected if he looked up the word blowhard in the dictionary, he’d find a picture of Chuck. Nevertheless, it was a charity fundraiser, so Marc pasted on a false smile and pretended to share Chuck’s derision for the formal attire. “I suppose the ladies like to see us dressed up, and since they’re the ones putting on the shindig, they decide the dress code.”
Chuck sighed heavily. “Yeah, I guess so, but just once I’d like to see the invitation for one of these damn events say it’s okay to wear sweats and football jerseys.”
Marc laughed, though he didn’t relish the thought of seeing Chuck in sweatpants at some swanky restaurant. “You should pass that suggestion along to Sophie Kennedy. Isn’t she behind the planning for most of these events?” Marc hoped Chuck would take him up on his suggestion, perfectly aware he was setting her up for his own personal entertainment. He’d love to see Sophie’s face and hear her response to Chuck’s inane wish.
“Not likely she’d listen to me ,” Chuck replied. “We dated a couple of years ago, you know.”
Marc plastered a nonchalant expression on his face, though he couldn’t imagine Sophie seriously being interested in the buffoon. “Is that so?”
“Yep.” Chuck leaned closer and lowered his voice. “She broke up with me because I was too big . If you know what I mean.”
Chuck gave him a cocky wink that had Marc’s hand balling up in a fist. He wasn’t sure exactly why he felt the urge to knock the guy on his ass, but it was pulsing strong and hard. He needed to put some distance between them.
“Excuse me, Chuck. I promised Mrs. Clarkson a dance.”
“Oh yeah. Sure thing.”
Chuck turned around to converse with another real estate agent who’d just joined them. Marc walked straight past the dance floor and outside to the patio, seeking some fresh air.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d had a handful of conversations with Sophie, and they’d shared a single kiss—albeit a hot one—less than an hour ago. So why was he feeling jealous, almost possessive of her?
Shit, she was the type of woman he’d spent a lifetime trying to avoid. He didn’t pursue country-club queens, and despite the fact Sophie owned and ran her own business, she was also a big part of the upper crust as well.
Not to mention he was currently the lawyer working to stop her father’s purchase of the community center. Hell, as long as she continued to defend her father, she could technically be considered not just a conflict of interest, but an adversary.
He took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to face the truth.
She’d never be his foe. And now that he thought about it, her past lovers didn’t mean a damn thing, either. It was only her future partner he was interested in because he didn’t have a doubt the next bed Sophie Kennedy slept in would be his. He wanted her. And despite the fact his attraction was dangerous and unbelievably stupid, he wasn’t a man who denied himself what he wanted.
He took a few minutes to enjoy the quiet evening, letting his new reality sink in before rejoining the party.
The rest of the night passed quickly as he conversed with several fellow lawyers over Scotch and sodas at the bar. Ordinarily he would have escaped the party shortly after dinner, but tonight he remained, content to chat and watch Sophie in her element.
As the gathering began to wind down, he offered to walk her to her car. “Thanks for attending.”
“Anytime.” He considered trying to steal another kiss, but Sophie anticipated the move. She claimed her seat behind the steering wheel so quickly she almost hit her head on the car door.
He resisted the urge to chuckle and call her coward.
“Well, good night.” She slammed the door, clearly desperate to make her escape. He took a step away from the car but made no move to head to his truck across the parking lot. Truth be told, he needed her to drive away so he could adjust the hard-on residing in his pants. He’d risk an injury if he attempted walking with it in its current position.
Sophie turned the key—and nothing. The engine didn’t fire. Twice more she twisted the key, but he could tell from the silence her battery was dead. Marc glanced around the parking lot. They were the last two guests to leave.
She wearily climbed out of the car. “I don’t suppose you have jumper cables, do you? And if so, do you know how to use them?”
He shook his head. “I loaned my set to a client a few weeks ago. She hasn’t returned them yet.” He actually didn’t expect to see them again at all. He’d planned to buy new ones. Unfortunately he hadn’t had the time.
“Great.”
“How about I give you a ride home? I’ll buy some cables and pick you up in the morning. I can bring you back here and give you a jump before work.” His cock thickened even more as he thought about exactly how he wanted to jump her.
“Oh, you don’t have to go to all that trouble. I’ll take you up on the ride home then figure out the jumper cables tomorrow. I’m sure Jared, Stephanie’s boyfriend, has some.”
He gestured toward his truck. “It’s no trouble.” Sophie walked toward his vehicle. He let her get a two-step lead before he did a quick pants adjustment and followed. He opened the passenger door, enjoying her impressed look at his chivalry.
“I’m not a total heathen.”
She laughed softly. “I never said you were.”
Marc climbed behind the steering wheel and started the car. The devil inside prompted him to tackle an issue that had been niggling at him all night, despite his mental pep talk. “So…you and Chuck Nelson were an item.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Jesus. He never wastes much time spilling that tidbit. We dated for two months. It’s a time I like to call my ‘era of low self-esteem’. Fortunately it didn’t take me too long to snap out of it and dump his ass.”
Marc couldn’t resist teasing her when he stopped at a red light. “According to Chuck, you dumped him because he was too big.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped.
He reached over, lightly closing her mouth. “Careful,” he joked, “or you’ll catch flies.”
“He said that?” Her voice was filled with so much anger, he worried he may have to represent Sophie in court. Her face reflected pure murder.
“Sophie—” he began, wondering how to calm her down.
She cut him off. “I said he was the biggest dick, not he had the biggest dick.”
“Oh well, that’s an easy mistake to make,” Marc teased.
“I think Chuck and I are going to have a little come-to-Jesus meeting tomorrow. There’s no way I’m going to let him keep spreading that bullshit around. Goddamn pencil-dick ignoramus.”
Marc laughed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Sophie tilted her head, her anger dissipating quickly. “Since when have you ever been on anything but my bad side?”
“Aw, come on, Soph. You know you’re hot for me.”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Now that I think about it, you and Chuck have a lot in common.”
He narrowed his eyes, unhappy about being compared to her idiot ex. “We have nothing in common and if you continue to insist we do, I’ll be forced to prove just how different we are.”
“Turn here. My house is the third one on the left,” she said, as he approached her street. A successful dodge for Ms. Kennedy.
He pulled into her driveway. Again, he was taken aback. Her little house wasn’t ostentatious or fancy. It was small, simple. It actually reminded him a great deal of his house. “Nice place.”
Sophie’s smile proved she was quite fond of her home. “It’s a rental, not mine, but I love it. The neighborhood’s quiet and safe and the rent is affordable. I’ve been here for nearly two years.”
Marc got out of the car, intending to open Sophie’s door for her. She beat him to it, stepping out. As he rounded the hood, he caught her wince. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, though she was still grimacing. “My feet are killing me.”
He glanced down at her high heels. “No wonder.”
She gave him an annoyed look. “I’m usually fine in my heels, but I was on my feet more than I’d expected tonight. Plus these shoes are new and not exactly broken in.”
He offered his arm, which she took with unexpected ease, leaning on it enough to let him know she wasn’t kidding about her aching feet. When they reached the front porch, she opened the door then turned to smile at him.
“Thanks for the ride home.”
He glanced through the open doorway. She’d left a light on in the living room, allowing him to see part of her couch. “Come on.”
She frowned. “Excuse me.”
He didn’t reply, just grasped her hand and led her to the couch. He gestured for her to sit down. “Take off your shoes.”
Sophie’s hands flew to her hips as her scowl grew. She clearly didn’t like being told what to do. He didn’t give her a chance to yell at him for his domineering attitude. Instead, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her toward him for a quick kiss.
It had the desired effect. She was stunned speechless long enough for him to get his way. He guided her down onto the couch and pulled off her shoes.
She started to stand, her face flushed, though he wasn’t sure if it was anger or lust supplying the color. “How dare you?—”
He lifted her legs and claimed the cushion beneath them, placing her feet on his lap. His relentless grip prevented her from rising. “Hush. I happen to give the world’s best foot massages.” To prove his point, he applied pressure to the sole of one of her feet.
Sophie groaned and fell back against a throw pillow. He repeated the motion on her other foot. “Holy shit,” she muttered. “That feels so good.”
He tried to ignore her almost seductive purr, but it was too late. His cock responded to her soft moans and slow stretches as he continued rubbing her feet. He imagined this was how she’d look if he lifted her skirt and offered her a different kind of massage.
If he touched her pussy right now, how wet would she be?
His hard-on grew larger, the damn thing throbbing almost painfully. Much as he wanted to pretend otherwise, tonight wasn’t going to end with sex, no matter how much his cock may protest. There was still too much distrust floating between them.
He kept working, applying equal measures of deep rubs and soft strokes. Twice her feet brushed against the front placket of his slacks. He wondered if she could feel his erection.
When she rubbed against it once more and lingered, his gaze flew to her face. She was watching him—and she knew exactly what she was touching.
She pressed her toes more firmly against his cock, giving her own version of a foot massage. Marc swallowed heavily and tried to ignore how fucking good her playful toes felt. But soon he reached a point of no return. He grasped Sophie’s ankle, halting her movements. “I need to leave now, Soph, or I won’t leave at all.”
She lay still. He could practically see the wheels spinning in her brain. She wanted to invite him to stay as much as she wanted him to leave.
Fair enough. It was too soon. He offered her a wry grin. They didn’t know each other well enough. Yet. He’d correct that problem. Sophie was about to start seeing a hell of a lot more of him.
He lifted her legs off his lap and rose. Sophie started to sit up, but he placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back against the cushions. Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sophie sighed softly then accepted his departure with good humor. “Thanks for the warning…and the foot massage. Good night, Marc.”
“Night, princess.”