"Oh." The words warmed her, pleasing her more than she'd expected. "Who is Marianne to you?" She blinked. She hadn't intended to ask that question.
"No one," he said, his words giving credence to what Hannah had said. "My mentor thinks she's the perfect wingma
n for political events."
"She likes you. And not as a wingman."
He shook his head. "Not an issue."
"Maybe not for you. But I saw the look on her face."
"Again. Not an issue."
She ran her fingers through her hair. "What about Hannah?"
"Am I hearing jealousy?"
She met his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Yes."
"Oh." He actually flinched a bit in surprise. Not that she blamed him. Considering their deal, that pronouncement was definitely out of character. Hell, maybe her mother's words were getting to her more than Selma wanted them to.
"Good," he added, then grinned. "I think I like knowing you're jealous."
"Rat bastard," she said mildly. "Seriously, who is Hannah to you?"
"One of my best friends."
"That's what she said. I like corroborating evidence." His chuckle washed over her and she pressed on. "Why aren't you opening your firm with her?"
"I'm doing the judicial thing."
"Again I ask, why?"
"A lot of reasons. The path makes sense, and I can help people."
"But it's not you. I mean, I've seen some interesting sides of you, and they're not particularly judicial. And as for helping people, don't judges deal with attorneys and not the actual clients?"
He said nothing, and when he did answer, his words were unexpected. And a bit unwelcome. "Why do you keep haggling over minor terms in the sale contract?"
"What? I'm not--"
"You are. We could have closed this deal days ago, but we keep going over the same ground. And I don't think it's just because you want to spend more time with me."
"I want the best deal."
"Maybe the best deal is no deal."
"Dammit, Easton, we're not doing the psychology game."
He lifted a brow. "Aren't we?"
"Fine." She stood up and thrust out her hand. "Truce?"
He tugged her toward him, then lifted her onto his lap and kissed her, the feel of his lips against hers and his body hot and hard beneath her settling her more than it should. "Truce," he murmured, then put his arms around her and hugged her against him.
For a moment, they stayed like that, with her clinging to him and soaking up his strength. After a moment, she pulled back, her eyes searching his and, thankfully, what she saw reflected there gave her the strength to say the next words. "I don't want to think that this is more than it is," she began. "I mean, we had a deal. But I want--"
"Fuck the deal." His voice was rough, sensual. "This is just you and me. No contracts. No rules. Our way, whatever we want that way to be."