LITMIR.BIZ

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chatting about every little thing that might cross their minds.

      A clang and a scrape startled them. It was with some surprise that he looked around and discovered that they were not, in fact, the only two people left in the Starbucks. Ashley, who’d been wiping down the table next to theirs, clanked another few pieces of silverware into her plastic bin and straightened the remaining chairs with an annoyed clunk. Lobbying a final glare at him, she took her cleaning supplies and marched through a door to the kitchen in the back.

      All of this seemed to amuse his companion, who had a brow raised. “I think you’ve offended Ashley.”

      Shaking his head, he took a quick gulp of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “She’s into you.”

      He took another sip, which was a mistake, given his overheated cheeks. “It’s nothing.”

      She laughed and worked on another bite of scone. “If you say so. But I suggest you have your food tested for poison the next time she serves you something.”

      “Duly noted. So how do you manage your time with the class and work?”

      She waved a hand, dismissing the topic. Apparently, this one didn’t spend too much time feeling sorry for herself. “It’s easy once you stop sleeping. And hobbies are out. And I don’t have as much time to clean my apartment, but you won’t find me crying about that.”

      “And what did you do for fun before you started law school?”

      “Well, I spent a lot more time with my friends. I read books. Mysteries,” she added, before he could ask. “And I practiced yoga.”

      Well, that explained the body. God bless yoga.

      “Your friends understand, though, right?” he asked, hoping she might allude to a significant other, if there was one. “They don’t give you a hard time, do they?”

      “They do understand. Which doesn’t mean they don’t whine when I miss girls’ night out. But they’re used to it by now.”

      “Good.”

      “And what do you do with yourself when you’re not working?”

      The question threw him for a major loop, probably because he was thirty-one and had no life. He hesitated, thinking of all the exciting things he wanted to do one day when he had time. When he wasn’t overloaded with court appearances, needy clients and a demanding family.

      Was such a magical day even possible?

      Yeah, he thought sourly. As soon as dinosaurs once again roamed the earth.

      “I’m always working,” he said.

      Wow. That reeked of dissatisfaction, didn’t it?

      She’d noticed. Her gaze sharpened with interest. “So are you a workaholic because you enjoy it or because you can’t see any other way?”

      Another tough question. “I have no idea.”

      She smiled, and her extraordinary eyes were full of understanding. “You should probably work on that, shouldn’t you?”

      “You’re one to talk.”

      “Hypocrisy is my middle name.”

      That got him. He grinned. She grinned back. The moment lengthened into an interlude so delicious it was almost unbearable.

      He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

      He thought about how his day started in the usual manner―yawn worthy―and how exciting she’d made it when he least expected it. He thought about how interesting and beautiful she was, and how she’d already made him smile more this morning than he had in the past week or so, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

      She intrigued him more than any woman he’d met in a long time.

      A long time.

      What if he hadn’t literally stumbled on to her here in Starbucks?

      What if his attraction was one-sided?

      He didn’t think so, though. Her eyes were too bright and her color too high.

      And he’d been around long enough to know when a woman responded to him.

      She turned away first, running an unsteady hand through her hair. “Well...”

      He cleared his throat, which felt tight with a sudden longing that was all out of proportion with the occasion. Sharing coffee and a breakfast treat with a complete stranger shouldn’t tie him up in knots, he knew, no matter how sexy she was.

      Tell that to his raging hormones.

      “Well,” he said.

      With her head bent low, she flipped a couple pages forward in her book, and then flipped back again. Ultimately, she pushed away the book and pulled the laptop closer, tapping a couple keys. He had the idea she was as flustered as he was, which made him feel a whole lot better, because he was a sudden mass of nerves, desire and uncertainty.

      “I should get back to studying.” She tipped up her face just enough for him to see deepening frown lines between her brows. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it.”

      Ah, man. Was he a jerk, or what? He rolled his shoulders, trying to release some of his spiking tension. “Sorry. I’m saying that to you a lot, aren’t I?”

      “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “It was fun talking to you. But the being-knocked-on-my-butt part? Not so fun.”

      He snorted out a laugh.

      “But I liked the scone. Thanks for introducing me to something new.”

      He slid back his chair with a loud scrape that echoed his frustration. “I’ll just...go on back to my own table and leave you in peace.”

      “Give a yell if you get lost.”

      The teasing undid him. He wanted more of it. More of her.

      The words came out in a rush. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

      Her head came up, and she hit him with that intense gaze and eyes that were round and shocked. “Excuse me?”

      His hopes crashed and burned via a sickening swoop in his belly. “I knew it. You’re with someone, aren’t you?”

      “What? No, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Do you?”

      “Dinner is always a good idea. You have food, maybe some wine, you get nourishment—it’s great.”

      “Don’t you think both our lives are complicated enough without rocking the boat?”

      “I thrive on complications.”

      “I don’t, though,” she said flatly. “I thrive on smooth sailing.”

      Jake took a minute to regroup, thinking hard. He’d asked her out, she’d said no, end of story. He wasn’t in the habit of begging women to be with him, and his pride wouldn’t let him start now. She wasn’t the only woman in Philly, and if she wasn’t interested in him, well, then screw her. Her loss.

      So why did he feel like the biggest loser? Why did he have the uncomfortable certainty that something special was slipping through his fingers?

      He stared at her, trying to manage his disappointment. “How can I change your mind? I’m just talking dinner here. You have my permission to walk out on me if you’re not having fun. You can duck into the ladies’ room and never come back.”

      For a minute, she wavered, dimpling, and he thought he had her.

      But then her expression hardened and she shook her head. “I’m not going out with you. You shouldn’t even be asking me.” She gave him a little wave. “Buh-bye.”

      Shouldn’t

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