Free More Than Lust (Courthouse Connections Book 1) by Ann Jacobs

change of attitude had a lot to do with a hot, smart redhead with whom he wanted to explore a relationship, for a lot longer than a weekend. It was a lot too soon to say for sure, but he had a feeling he couldn’t shake that Andi Young would change his life forever, for the better.
    She seemed to be the kind of woman he could fall in love with, not for a weekend but for a lifetime.
     
     
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    As soon as they stepped inside the casual restaurant, Gray spotted Sam and Marcy at the bar. His arm at Andi’s back, he worked their way through a mixed crowd of college students, young adults, and retirees, and joined his friends who were working on a pitcher of what looked like mojitos.
    “Hey there,” Marcy said, fishing a lime quarter out of her drink and sucking out the juice. She looked as good now as ever, still blonde and gorgeous with a sparkling smile that had intrigued him back in the day. Her white halter top and shorts showed off the tan he’d never seen any way but perfect. And she still looked at Sam as if she thought he’d hung the moon.
    That used to bother Gray. It didn’t now. He liked how Andi looked with her rosy cheeks and a simple sundress whose colors reminded him of the water—some green, some blue, and a little beige in the small seashells scattered onto the print. Unlike Marcy, who wore high-heeled sandals, Andi had on ballet flats.
    The better to dance in , she’d commented before they left his condo.
    Yeah, Andi was practical and Gray liked that—a lot. “Is our table ready?” he asked Sam after pulling out bar stools for himself and Andi and joining the other couple.
    “The host should be calling my name pretty soon,” Sam replied. “I signed up for it when we got here about a half-hour ahead of you two. “Hi, Andi. It’s good to see you again.”
    Gray hadn’t considered that Andi might know Sam as well as Marcy, but he should have guessed they’d at least met since the two women worked together. “I’m guessing introductions aren’t necessary,” he commented.
    “No, I occasionally insist that Sam come to the office to troll for new patients.” Marcy’s grin let Gray know she was kidding. “Andi, I like your sundress. It looks as though Gray let you get a little too much sun, though.”
    Andi laughed. “The downside of having red hair. He noticed soon enough when I was beginning to roast out on the beach that he got me inside before any real damage got done.”
    “Andi, what would you like to drink?” Gray asked when a bartender finally showed up and looked at him expectantly.
    She glanced at the large, cardboard signs above the bar. “It seems the specialties here are mojitos and margaritas. I like either—just not by the pitcher full unless you want to see me dancing on top of the bar.”
    “We’ll share a pitcher of margaritas, then.” When the bartender left, he turned back to Andi. “Rum and I don’t get along too swimmingly. I’d just as soon not have a headache in the morning, because I’ve got plans for you. Okay?”
    “Okay. I’m surprised that a sailor like you doesn’t have a taste for rum. Isn’t it the favorite drink down in the Caribbean?”
    “Yeah. Even the best brands give me an awful hangover, though, so I try to steer clear of everything made with it.” Gray poured some of the margaritas into two plastic glasses and handed a glass to Andi.
    Just then the host called Sam’s name. They gathered their drinks and followed a jeans-clad waitress to a table overlooking the Intracoastal Waterway on one side, the dance floor on the other. “The band tonight’s country-western, and we’ll have karaoke between sets,” she informed them as she handed them menus. “Enjoy.”
     
     
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    Simple beach fare—fried jumbo shrimp and homemade French fries were served in a huge platter along with creamy coleslaw and cocktail sauce—three varieties ranging from smooth and mild to bright red and fiery hot with grated