Maxwell chuckled, low and warm. “Now, Kat, what kind of man would I be if I laid out all my cards on the first date?” She narrowed her eyes, but he only grinned, lifting his bourbon. “Let’s just say I don’t make a habit of spending my time with un- interesting people.” Before she could parse his words, he set down his glass and reached for her hand, cradling it between his own gestures more intimate than their conversation should have warranted, yet somehow, it fit.
...To be continued in further installments.
Copyright © 2025 Pamela S Kemper
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And she let him.
Was it heartbreak? Loneliness? Or some- thing else entirely? She hadn’t been living under a rock for the past twenty years. Plenty of men had flirted with her. She had shut every single one of them down without hesitation.
But Maxwell…
Here she sat, gazing into the piercing blue eyes of a man she barely knew, her hands in his, and feeling sensations she had almost forgotten existed. It was later, tucked back in her trailer, sleep tugging at her mind, that the thought struck her. Maxwell never actually answered her ques- tion.
Yes, he had flirted.
But he never truly denied that her legal mind was what interested him.
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