He tilts his head, briefly glancing at me, then shifting his eyes back to the road.
“You know me.”
“No, I thought I did.” I shake my head. “I’m woman enough to admit I was wrong.”
He parks in a deserted parking lot of a store without business banners in the windows, leaving the line of cars headed to the rehearsal dinner.
“I’m lost.” He cuts the engine, turning in his seat to face me.
“Is this whole thing an act? Like you hired these people to act like your family and say nice things about you?”
He chuckles more to himself than me. “They say nice things about me?”
“You know you’re like a hero in this town. Is that why you brought me? To brainwash me into thinking that man in Chicago isn’t real?” My hand feels for the handle and I pry the door open, needing air and maybe some distance from Roarke.
A second later, his door shuts and he’s at my side near the back of the truck.
“I’m not only the callous, unfeeling man you see me as when I’m working in the city. I’m also the son who still strives to make his mom proud even though he’s still filled with resentment for her. I’m the brother who wants to make his sister’s life easier and let her have the dream of unconditional love neither of us grew up with. I’m the town quarterback who left and made something of himself who wants to give a younger version of himself a leg up. I’m the boy who got his heartbroken at a young age that defined his jagged line of thinking when it comes to trust.”
I lean on the back of the SUV, my hands clinging to the bumper. His declaration is so honest and pure.
“Did you practice that?” I ask softly.
He throws his hands up in the air and walks across the parking lot flattening the weeds sprouting up between the cracks. “No,” he bites out.
“Are you mad?”
“I’m starting to get mad. Yes. I get mad when I feel defeated.” He swivels around, his beauty and strength more visible against the backdrop of what failure looks like.
“I’m sorry. It’s just…” This time I give him my back, walking a few steps away.
My head is in a jumble. How on Earth can I want this man? The man I’ve loathed for the past year. The man I almost made a voodoo doll of. How did I allow him to weasel his way past my armor?
“It’s trust. I get it. In your eyes I deceived you. I’m the person you relate to the worst thing that ever happened to you.” His voice is near, but he keeps his distance. “I was a fool to think it’d be easy for you. Like I could charm my way in and expect you to forgive me.”
Tears well in my eyes and I clench my hands into fists to stop them from falling.
“I don’t know what to think. My divorce wasn’t a picnic, but I don’t blame you. You weren’t the one who cheated. You weren’t the one who wanted everything of mine. That’s on Todd.”
As I turn to face him, I notice he’s resting on the bumper of his car, his sunglasses off and his eyes on me. “I helped him get it though.”
“You did what you were supposed to do, I suppose.” It’s hard getting those words out of my mouth, even if they are the truth.
“You don’t really believe that in your heart though.” The corners of his lips tip down.
“I get that it was your job, but you have a reputation in Chicago. One where you go after the other party with a vengeance.”
His eyes lock with mine. “I will never apologize for the job I do. I’m one of the best in my field and I take pride in that. I don’t deliberately take everything from someone, but I do make sure my client doesn’t get screwed over because their spouse is hiding money. There are laws, Hannah, laws that people like to break. When someone makes the conscious decision to walk down the aisle and promise their future to someone else, it should be taken seriously. When they decide to have a child, those responsibilities shouldn’t be taken away once they decide they want to move on to someone else. I’m sorry I represented Todd in your divorce, but he got to me first. I’m sorry you see me as a monster who stole from you, but I got him what the law said was his. That’s all.”
I keep my gaze locked with his.
“How can you make that argument sound so noble?” The corners of my lips tip up a bit.
He smirks. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to defend my actions to.”
I roll my eyes. “So, you’ve gone after a client’s ex before?” The thought nearly sends me into a rage.
Standing, he stalks toward me. “When are you going to understand?” he asks, gripping my upper arms.
“What?”
“You’re the only one I want. I wanted for you to be over that marriage for an entire year. I’ve never pursued another client or a client’s spouse. I’m no saint, granted, but I’ve never wanted a woman to wake up in my bed more than I do you.” He pins me with an intense stare for a moment and I think that maybe he’s going to lean down and kiss me. Then he frowns and his forehead wrinkles. “But I’m starting to think this just isn’t going to work. You’re never going to forgive me.”
He releases his grip on my shoulders and turns to walk back to the SUV. I miss his eyes on me immediately.
“I do.” The words rush out of my mouth.
He glances over his shoulder and he must see something on my face because he turns around fully, not touching me but stepping so close we’re nearly chest to chest.
Our breaths are labored and fast. “You do what?” His voice is low.
“I…I forgive you.”
Whatever space was between us disappears as one of his hands clutch the back of my head and he pulls me flush to his body.
“No takebacks,” he says.
Giving me no time to answer, his lips crash against mine with ferocity. With one hand holding me where he wants me, his other hand slides to my back. He takes control of the kiss and I melt into his hold. All the doubts and indecision evaporate as we devour one another. His hand glides down my body and cups my ass, positioning me flush against the bulge in his slacks.
I ground against him, desperately seeking more friction. All weekend he’s had me on edge and I’m done fighting the growing heat between my thighs. I’m starving for a scream-worthy orgasm and there’s no doubt that Roarke would deliver multiple times.
At some point, while we’re all lips, tongue, and pent-up lust, he circles us around and my back hits the SUV. Stepping into me, he skims his hand from my ass to my thigh and steps into me, the friction growing.
“If our timing was different, I’d take you right here,” he murmurs against my lips and then slams them down on my mouth as though he can only handle not kissing me for a few short seconds.
“People.” I pull away from his lips and glance around.
Instead of stepping away, he thrusts into me, effectively hitting the center of wetness in my panties. “I don’t care about them. If this wasn’t going to be our first time, I’d already have you in the truck with ripped panties, but…” He leans in and kisses me slowly then cups my cheek. “Our first time will not be fast.” He presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss.
“I’m good with fast.”