Free I Run to You by Eve Asbury Page B

beautiful Lincoln town car. While he
drove, she eyed his raven hair, combed back as usual and in a tight
braid that fell to mid back. The blue-black stuff was shiny even on
an overcast day.
    Still big, handsome, with broad shoulders,
and distinct Native American features—more so than the French blood
he’d gotten from his Dupree side— he had on a deep red western
shirt, and jeans, his comfortable cowboy boots.
    “They let you dress that casual in the DA’s
office?” She joked, having on a black skirt and purple silk tank
herself, with flat sandals.
    He glanced at her and winked one of those
beautiful brown eyes. “I’m officially a liaison, so I’m in and out.
But yeah, unless I’m in a court room or doing the social rounds,
nobody better tell me how to dress.”
    She laughed. “And the women in your
life?”
    “You’re so like Madeline.” He gave a turn
signal. “Not subtle.”
    They parked and got out, not picking up the
conversation until they were at a window side table, having
mandarin chicken salads and limewater. Brook got a kick out of
watching him flirt with the dusky skinned waitress. The woman was
curvy, with beautiful lush lips, and flirty eyes. Sitting back and
watching Sunny—who obviously came in there a lot, she was amazed
that he was still single.
    Once they were served, he finally supplied,
“Just between you and me. I came close to marriage once.”
    Chewing her salad, she waved her fork for him
to tell her more.
    His sexy grin was half abashed. “Right out of
law school. I had a 6-year relationship with a woman.’
    Gulping a drink of water, Brook stared at
him. “You did?”
    He chuckled. “Um yes.”
    “What happened?”
    “Her family.” He took a bite and made her
wait a bit before saying, “They traced her ancestors back to the
Mayflower. You know the sort. Not even my French blood would have
been easy to swallow. Her father was a politician, who had groomed
some Harry stick-up-his ass, for her. I was brash and full of
myself, sure I was equal to any challenge.”
    Brook shook her head. “You’re telling me they
disapproved?”
    “That’s putting it mildly. At social
occasions, he would always let his tasteless humor get the better
of him. Make some asinine crack about Indians. We are talking New
Hampshire society here—summer in the Hamptons and all that.” He
chewed a bit then uttered with some dry humor, “Here I thought the
family pressure was what ended it for us. For many years, I would
have said so. But, the truth in it was, I was nothing more than her
rebellion. She eventually went home, married her father’s choice,
and manages to make the social pages quite often.”
    What’s her name?” Brook was definitely
curious. However, when Sunny gave it, she gaped at him. “That
congressman’s wife?”
    “Yes.” He sat back and nodded.
    After absorbing that a moment, she snorted
indignantly, “Well, you’re too good for those people. Too good
looking for her too. And—”
    He laughed and shrugged. “That was eons
ago.”
    “Is it why… you’re not married?”
    “I don’t think so.” He shrugged again, looked
around, sliding his empty bowl up. He asked for coffee, ordered her
one, and then said, “Aside from having a habit of filling my life
with work—I’m restless. I never actually meet women my age, who
want to get married. They are career women, independent. Like it
that way, apparently.”
    “Not even to a handsome, rich, successful
lawyer slash tavern owner. They must be daft.”
    When he said nothing, she teased, “What about
women—not—your age?”
    He looked up from stirring his coffee so fast
it surprised her.
    Before she could analyze it though he asked
her if she was going to work for him? She said yes, and then he
asked about the band. Afterwards, he threw out the name of some
clubs that would be good venues when they were ready. He had
contacts, many contacts.
    By the time they were walking out to the
parking lot, he had managed to