“Gladdy, stop,” Kathleen pleaded.
“I’m just saying, there are distinct advantages to younger men,” Gladdy said. “You should remember that, dear, should you find yourself interested in anyone. So many women go for older men, I suppose for their money or power. But I’ve always preferred the younger ones. You don’t usually have performance problems with the young ones. I wouldn’t think the judge would have any problems at all in that regard.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lilah promised. “Although right now, the last thing I want or need is a man.”
The estate was scheduled to host an elegant wedding that weekend, and on Thursday evening, Lilah watched as various people came and went, seeing what the house was like as it was prepared for an event.
As the sun went down and the workers setting up chairs, tables and various equipment finally left, she went for a run, and after a quick, cool shower, she put on a comfy pair of pajamas, thankful that the house had quieted down around her.
In the walk-in cooler, she found an opened bottle of pinot noir, left over from a wine tasting with a bride and groom earlier in the week, and poured herself a glass.
She was on her second glass when she glimpsed the headlights of a car illuminating the driveway to the house. Eleanor, coming back from dinner in town, most likely. She thought she heard someone tap softly on the side door. Then, before she could answer it, the door opened, and in walked the judge.
Lilah groaned inwardly and glanced down at her attire.
Cropped pajama pants with a drawstring waist, a little spaghetti-strap top that didn’t quite come down as far on her waist as the pants, no bra, no makeup, hair still damp from the shower, two big glasses of wine inside of her.
Then there was the judge, looking all serious and judicial on her, with his perfect, dark suit, a crisp white shirt, dark tie and those lovely, classic dark looks of his. Dark hair, dark eyes, a bit of color to his face that suggested he spent some time in the sun regularly.
“Judge,” she said finally. “What a surprise.”
He gave her an odd, assessing look. He was holding what looked like a gift-wrapped wedding present, which he placed on the big island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Eleanor said that the side door would be open, that it was fine to just walk in. I was supposed to be at the wedding this weekend, but something came up at the last minute. She didn’t tell you I was coming?”
“No, but it’s been a hectic afternoon. Lots of people coming and going, getting ready for the wedding.” Did he think she’d be here, in her pajamas, if she’d known he was dropping by? “I thought you were Eleanor coming back from dinner.”
He shook his head. “I just need to drop off a wedding gift.”
“For the daughter of the state assemblyman? You’re friends?”
“Yes. We … uh … used to date,” he admitted.
“Oh.” That was interesting. “No hard feelings, I hope?” Lilah asked.
“She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman. I hope she’ll be very happy.”
“Sorry you’re going to miss the wedding. I’m sure it’s going to be lovely,” she said.
He stood there, hands in his pockets, studying her in the dim light. Nerves got to her once more, and she took a last sip of her wine. He watched her do that, then shifted his gaze to the nearly empty bottle she’d left on the countertop.
“Are you all right?” he asked finally.
“I didn’t empty the bottle myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s from a tasting earlier this week, left behind after a half-dozen people sampled it. I’ll admit to having a little bit of a buzz, though. Two glasses, and it went straight to my head. I should have just gone to bed.”
And then, oddly, she wished she hadn’t said the word bed.
Although it was true, she should have been there, safe in her bed, instead of here, alone with him this way, feeling vulnerable and sad and underdressed.
“Lilah, I can’t begin to figure you out,” he said.
“I know.” And he really didn’t like that. She could tell by the way he said it.
“And I can figure almost everyone out. I have to. It’s a very important part of my job. And I’m good at my job. Why can’t I figure you out?”
She laughed just a bit. “I’m not sure I understand myself that well, which is not a good thing. I’m not sure I’m … fully formed the way a woman my age should be….”
Oops. There she went again. Fully formed? Really, Lilah.
“See, right there. I can’t tell if you’re deliberately trying to be provocative or not.”
“No. Not this time,” she said. “I admit, I have … baited you in the past, and I’m sorry for that. I mean … I know I should be—”
“But you’re not sorry—”
“No. You just seem so … uptight.” There, she blurted it out.
“I’m not,” he argued. “I just happen to hold a very public position in the community, and there are things expected of me and my behavior.”
“Of course.”
“And you, from what I’ve seen, are a woman who prides herself on being as outrageous as possible—”
“No. Really, I don’t. I just … I want to be me, and not some buttoned-up, repressed version of me to please someone else.”
“I am not repressed,” he said with a bit of heat, clearly enunciating each word.
“No, I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about … someone else. Someone who did that to me. Or … no, I did that to myself, because it was my choice, and now, I choose not to do that anymore. I choose to be me, and I’m not changing for anyone. I promised myself that.”
He leaned back and studied her once more, shaking his head back and forth.
“I’ll try to be good from now on, I promise,” she tried.
“And there you go again. What are you doing?”
“Trying to apologize, to say I’ll stop baiting you.” She laughed a bit, couldn’t help it. Something about this man …
“You’re enjoying this!” He took a step closer, which actually put him a bit too close for comfort. “That’s what I keep thinking, that you know exactly what you’re doing. I think you like to play with people, shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone, shock them a bit.”
“Well, yes—the shake things up, push people out of their comfort zone part is true. People come to me because they’re uncomfortable with their lives. They want to change, and to bring about change, you have to shake things up. As a therapist—”
“I’m not talking about you as a therapist,” he said, taking one more step forward, until he was absolutely looming over her, crowding her, trapping her between the kitchen cabinets and his big, powerful body.
“Oh,” she said softly, when he was so close she could smell the scent he was wearing, something dark and spicy and very, very sexy. She could have stood there, happily, taking in that scent and feeling little waves of heat coming off his body for a long, long time. “You mean me …”
“As a woman, Lilah,” he said quietly, and his already deep voice got a little deeper and a whole lot sexier.
She gave a little shiver that was part pleasure and part … okay, no. All pleasure. Nothing but.