that. Except
Except what?
I was just thinking. She looks the type who'd go for a rich lawyer.
What are you saying now? The regular Jack Swyteck isn't good enough for her?
I would never say that. He gave Jack an assessing look, then asked, Would you?
Jack's mouth opened, but the words took a little longer. Do you honestly think I'm courting a white-shoe law firm because I'm trying to impress a woman?
All I know is that the old Jack Swyteck wouldn't go near a place like Bailey, Benning, and Langer. Now you're doing William Bailey personal favors, representing his client in a dumb-ass dispute before the hoity-toity Coral Gables Board of Architects. And surprise, surprise. That sudden change of heart coincides with the arrival of a bombshell named Mia.
Jack exaggerated his indignation, just being funny. I'll have you know that she happens to like this average Joe for who he is.
How do you know that?
Because it was her suggestion that I defend my client's statue of David on the grounds that a fourteen-inch penis is not large.
Theo's beer nearly came through his nostrils. Right. You two had sex yet?
That was a far more complicated question than Theo could possibly have imagined. I'm not one to kiss and tell, said Jack.
Theo nodded. Obviously it was with the lights off. Things always seem enormous when you can't see them, like when your tongue's going crazy trying to work out what feels like a fucking Cadillac stuck between your molars, but in reality it's just this teensy-weensy shred of -
Yeah, yeah. Got your point. Thanks, pal.
Don't mention it.
Jack caught Mia's eye across the bar. She gave Jack a little wave and a smile, then started toward him. As she approached, Jack couldn't help but notice that each time they got together, he felt happier to see her. His mind started to compute what that might mean, but he quickly shook it off, trying instead to enjoy the moment. Because it was indeed special.
Twice in the span of ten minutes, Theo Knight had been stunned into silence.
Chapter 3
Jack was lighting candles. Four on the coffee table, six on the mantel, a dozen more placed strategically around the room. He stepped back to admire the warm glow.
Candles, he thought. I'm actually lighting candles. The last time he'd done that, a hurricane was barreling down on Miami, and his Cuban grandmother was on her knees praying aloud to Santa Barbara and San LAzaro. This evening, however, Abuela was nowhere to be found. There was no power outage. Nor was it anyone's happy birthday.
This was all about Mia.
She was truly gorgeous, as Theo had so enthusiastically pointed out, but attracting beautiful women had never really been Jack's problem. Finding one with her head screwed on straight, however, was another matter. He was over six feet tall with dark eyes that hinted at his half-Latin heritage. His ex-wife used to say that he had the rugged good looks to be an instant heartthrob as a country singer, except that he couldn't sing worth a damn, he looked ridiculous in hats, and he was only slightly less country than Art Buchwald. Now that she was out of his life, he relied exclusively on Theo for backhanded compliments that cut him to shreds.
He inhaled, drawing in the aroma. Fresh, spicy cinnamon. Those candles were working their magic. Barely a hint remained of his paella A la napalm. Oh, yes, burned to a crisp. Who knew that one hour at 325 degrees didn't translate to half an hour at 500 degrees? Not that the meal would have been edible anyway. It was beyond Jack's comprehension that a so-called celebrity chef could have his own TV show when his best-selling cookbook didn't even tell you to boil the rice before putting it in the freakin' oven.
Jack, what's that smell?
He turned to see Mia standing in the hallway. She was wearing one of his dress shirts, which was now the odds-on choice to be his favorite article of clothing.
Cimamanonon, he said, then untied his tongue. Cinn-a-mon. There. See, I can talk.
She'd been
Except what?
I was just thinking. She looks the type who'd go for a rich lawyer.
What are you saying now? The regular Jack Swyteck isn't good enough for her?
I would never say that. He gave Jack an assessing look, then asked, Would you?
Jack's mouth opened, but the words took a little longer. Do you honestly think I'm courting a white-shoe law firm because I'm trying to impress a woman?
All I know is that the old Jack Swyteck wouldn't go near a place like Bailey, Benning, and Langer. Now you're doing William Bailey personal favors, representing his client in a dumb-ass dispute before the hoity-toity Coral Gables Board of Architects. And surprise, surprise. That sudden change of heart coincides with the arrival of a bombshell named Mia.
Jack exaggerated his indignation, just being funny. I'll have you know that she happens to like this average Joe for who he is.
How do you know that?
Because it was her suggestion that I defend my client's statue of David on the grounds that a fourteen-inch penis is not large.
Theo's beer nearly came through his nostrils. Right. You two had sex yet?
That was a far more complicated question than Theo could possibly have imagined. I'm not one to kiss and tell, said Jack.
Theo nodded. Obviously it was with the lights off. Things always seem enormous when you can't see them, like when your tongue's going crazy trying to work out what feels like a fucking Cadillac stuck between your molars, but in reality it's just this teensy-weensy shred of -
Yeah, yeah. Got your point. Thanks, pal.
Don't mention it.
Jack caught Mia's eye across the bar. She gave Jack a little wave and a smile, then started toward him. As she approached, Jack couldn't help but notice that each time they got together, he felt happier to see her. His mind started to compute what that might mean, but he quickly shook it off, trying instead to enjoy the moment. Because it was indeed special.
Twice in the span of ten minutes, Theo Knight had been stunned into silence.
Chapter 3
Jack was lighting candles. Four on the coffee table, six on the mantel, a dozen more placed strategically around the room. He stepped back to admire the warm glow.
Candles, he thought. I'm actually lighting candles. The last time he'd done that, a hurricane was barreling down on Miami, and his Cuban grandmother was on her knees praying aloud to Santa Barbara and San LAzaro. This evening, however, Abuela was nowhere to be found. There was no power outage. Nor was it anyone's happy birthday.
This was all about Mia.
She was truly gorgeous, as Theo had so enthusiastically pointed out, but attracting beautiful women had never really been Jack's problem. Finding one with her head screwed on straight, however, was another matter. He was over six feet tall with dark eyes that hinted at his half-Latin heritage. His ex-wife used to say that he had the rugged good looks to be an instant heartthrob as a country singer, except that he couldn't sing worth a damn, he looked ridiculous in hats, and he was only slightly less country than Art Buchwald. Now that she was out of his life, he relied exclusively on Theo for backhanded compliments that cut him to shreds.
He inhaled, drawing in the aroma. Fresh, spicy cinnamon. Those candles were working their magic. Barely a hint remained of his paella A la napalm. Oh, yes, burned to a crisp. Who knew that one hour at 325 degrees didn't translate to half an hour at 500 degrees? Not that the meal would have been edible anyway. It was beyond Jack's comprehension that a so-called celebrity chef could have his own TV show when his best-selling cookbook didn't even tell you to boil the rice before putting it in the freakin' oven.
Jack, what's that smell?
He turned to see Mia standing in the hallway. She was wearing one of his dress shirts, which was now the odds-on choice to be his favorite article of clothing.
Cimamanonon, he said, then untied his tongue. Cinn-a-mon. There. See, I can talk.
She'd been
Similar Books
Deep Space Endeavor
Ron Francis
Lilac Spring
Ruth Axtell Morren
Terror at the Zoo
Peg Kehret
Jane and the Canterbury Tale
Stephanie Barron
The Mountain and the Wall
Alisa Ganieva
Intimate Kiss (Bend To My Will #3)
Emily Jane Trent
The Wolf Who Fought for His Soul Mate
Scarlet Hyacinth
THE CINDER PATH
Yelena Kopylova
Combustion
Steve Worland
A Death in the Family
Michael Stanley