Blackjack and Moonlight: A Contemporary Romance (21 page)

Elise couldn’t stop her cheeks flaming with hot color. She tried to turn back to her computer, but Christine had already caught the telltale stain.

“Omigod, you saw Jack, didn’t you?”

“I knew his trial had started, so I slipped in the back to watch.”

“I thought you guys were done.”

“I thought so too.”

“And?” Christine asked.

“And…and nothing. He’s a very good judge.”

“His skills as a jurist are not putting that fire-engine red in your cheeks. You saw him. Alone. Don’t try to deny it.”

Elise smoothed out the calendar page in her desk blotter, then shifted a file folder a couple of inches to the left. When she thought she had her breathing under control, she folded her hands.

“Yes. We saw each other. Alone. In chambers. After the trial had adjourned,” she stressed.

Christine grinned. “More great sex. Good for you.”

Elise shook her head. “The jury’s still out on that point. I’m not sure it is good for me.”

“What are you talking about? He’s crazy about you. What could be wrong with that?”

Elise hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know. I keep thinking it’s going to end, but then I keep going back for more. It’s not going to end well, and I pride myself on good endings.”

“Why are you so convinced it’s going to end?”

“Because it will. I’m boxing above my weight class here. He’s Blackjack McIntyre. I’m just me. He—I don’t know, he reminds me of my dad. Very, very good at his job and rather distant everywhere else.”

Christine leaned forward. “The situation with your dad is different. Your mom divorced him, you didn’t see him much when you were a kid, then you moved back in as a teenager, after your dad had a whole new family. That would be a tough situation for anyone.”

Elise looked out the doorway at Kim’s empty desk. They hadn’t sent anyone to replace her, probably because the other partner she worked for was on vacation.

Christine filled in the silence. “And anyway, what’s your dad—who sounds like he has a stick up his ass—have to do with Jack? Who definitely does not have a stick up his ass.”

“I don’t know. I worry I want too much from Dad. I purposely don’t go to Ohio as often as I could because I feel weird there, like I’m a visitor from another planet.”

“So what? Do you feel that way with Jack?”

Elise remembered the look on his face when she’d stripped to her undies. “No.”

“What’s the problem, then? He’s in love with you, and you—”

“He’s not in love with me. He just says he is.”

“You’re crazy. You know that. Of course he’s in love with you.” Christine shook her head, which didn’t muss up her sleek gold-coin hair. How did she manage that?

“He’ll get over it. Or he’ll wake up and realize he’s made a mistake. They just do.”

Christine scowled. “Who does? Your dad? The superficial guys you date? I’m telling you, Jack’s not like them.”

Time to change the subject. “Yeah, like you can talk. You date the dweebiest guys. What’s up with that?”

Christine grinned ruefully. “Guilty as charged. Definitely a case of do as I say, not as I do. And speaking of which, did I tell you the latest thing Edgar did?”

Elise let the anecdote wash over her. The scene in Jack’s chambers had been really great. Why couldn’t she just enjoy its memory?

Jack called his sister on Thursday evening. “Hey, do you know if anyone’s using the Eagles Mere house? There’s nothing on the calendar, but I thought I’d better check with you.”

“Hugh hasn’t said anything. I’ll need to go in a couple weeks, you know, to meet with the caterer and florist, but nothing this weekend. Why?”

“I thought I’d go up. I figured neither Hugh nor Annette would be there because their kids are still in school. But with the wedding coming up, I wanted to check with you.”

Stacy didn’t say anything for a moment. “Wait, you’re going alone?”

He hesitated. Nothing he could say seemed safe, but he wasn’t going to lie. “No.”

“Oh, lord, you’re not back with that news anchor, are you? I watched her on YouTube. Surely you can do better than that.”

“Nice, sis. Very supportive.” He kept his voice stern, but he was grinning.

“Oh, lord. I was kidding. Still, you aren’t dating her, are you?”

“No.”

“Then who?”

“A local lawyer. You don’t know her.”

“Tell me about her,” Stacy insisted.

“No.”

“No?”

“Too soon. Let me spend the weekend with her. Then
maybe
I’ll tell you about her.”

Stacy said, “Hmm.” Never a good sign. “Libby’s graduation is next weekend. It’s in Philly, so no excuses. Bring your friend along.”

Oh no. He’d forgotten about the law school commencement. “I don’t know. She may not want to come, and I won’t push her.”

“I’ll get an extra ticket, just in case. And, Jacko?”

“Yes?” He braced himself for something uncomfortable. Having a sister who was fifteen years older frequently reduced him to adolescent stammering.

“Even if she doesn’t come—especially if she doesn’t come—I want the deets on your new girlfriend.”

“You don’t need to quote the twins to be
au courant
.”

Stacy laughed. “And you don’t need to speak French to sound like a fusspot.”

He wanted to ask if Stacy had sex on the floor of her office recently, but he knew better. He grinned. “Yup, that’s me. Very boring and prematurely stuffy.”

For their weekend outing, Jack insisted on using his car, which was fine with Elise.

She’d done some research on Eagles Mere so she could dress appropriately. The tiny village alongside a lake was famous for the Victorian “cottages” edging its banks. Elise was picturing Cape May, New Jersey—only inland and with sailing. She’d tucked in her new bathing suit, in case it was warm enough to swim, but she suspected they’d just walk around the lake and admire the sailboats.

She’d forgotten that Jack drove a late model Lexus. “I thought you have to drive American,” she said as he loaded her bag in the trunk.

“As the US Attorney, yes. This was my reward for getting confirmed.” He patted the roof of the car before opening her door. “Article Three judgeship, baby—appointed for life. They can’t fire me for driving Japanese.”

She laughed at his boyish glee. “Well, it’s a nice car.” It was easily the smoothest ride she’d experienced. She waited until he’d maneuvered them onto the Schuylkill Expressway before asking, “You’re rich, aren’t you?”

“You make that sound like an accusation. Isn’t it supposed to be a good thing?”

She thought about that. “Actually, I think it might be.” She rubbed her bottom lip. “I make a lot of money, more than I need. That’s just luck. Twenty years ago people doing my job made a third of my salary. But it’s been a touchy subject with men on occasion. Who pays, when to go dutch, that kind of stuff.”

“And you thought I was scraping by on a federal judge’s salary?”

“The Supreme Court would have us believe your pay is so measly that it’s a constitutional crisis.” She smiled. “I had a lovely picture of you making peanuts…literally. Like circus elephants.”

“Not quite that bad. Although it’s true that a lot of well-qualified lawyers don’t want to be judges because the cut in pay would be too drastic.”

“Not a problem I suspect I’ll ever face. I’m no one’s idea of judge material.”

He glanced at her. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He turned back to his driving. “Anyway, you’re right. I’m rich. Someday we can compare tax returns.”

“Ooh, Judge, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” she purred, running her hand up his right leg.

“Uh, Elise? Hands off. Lifetime appointment might mean I can drive the car of my dreams, but it doesn’t mean I can afford to cause an accident because my girlfriend groped me.”

She pouted but pulled her hand back.
Boy Scout.

He was a meticulous driver. Kept his hands at “ten and two” the whole time. She was tempted to tease him. Maybe not on the Schuylkill, though, which had more than its share of lunatic drivers.

Three hours flew by—sped on by good company, pleasant conversation, and a little nap that Elise denied taking.

“I was just resting my eyes.” She sat up straight.

Jack laughed. “You snore when you ‘rest your eyes.’”

“It’s your fault for having such a quiet car.”

“Such a weak argument, Elise, blaming the equipment.”

Her response was a low-throated growl.

“I heard that,” he said.

“Where are we?” When she’d dozed off—okay, so she had been asleep—they’d still been on the highway.

“Route Forty-Two. We’re about twenty minutes out.”

She looked around with interest. It was beautiful in a very,
very
rural way. Miles of open road flashed between the few homes they saw. No towns, no shopping centers. Just an undulating landscape, with heavily wooded hills sloping down to meadows and farmland.

Gradually, though, the driveways and houses increased in frequency. Then there was a bend in the road and, just like that, they were in a town, or at least a collection of houses and shops on either side of the highway. Before she could ask where they were, Jack had pulled into a driveway behind a large white house.

Elise got out and looked up at the diamond-paned windows and curving porch. “Oh, Jack—it’s perfect. What a gorgeous place. How did you find it?”

“Google Maps,” he teased.

She looked at him across the roof of the car. “I’m serious. I’m always looking for a good website for country inns.”

He didn’t say anything. She could tell he was amused. Not laughing out loud perhaps, but there was that look about his mouth, like he’d scrunched it to keep from chuckling.

He turned to grab their bags. “C’mon, let’s go in.” She followed him up the stairs that led from the driveway to the back door. Nothing too odd with that, but when he took out a key and opened the door, she shot him a sharp look.

“Not an inn, clearly,” she said.

“Sorry, no. We’ll have more privacy here, but we’ll have to do our own dishes.”

“Who owns this place?”

They entered via a hallway with a huge kitchen on one side and pantries on the other. She wandered further into the house, aware of Jack bringing more luggage in, which was odd because she only had the one case. Then she heard him in the kitchen and understood. He’d brought food. Of course he had. Sneaky devil.

At the front of the house were generous public rooms—on the right a dining room opened into some sort of parlor overlooking the huge wraparound porch. On the left, a living room with a massive fireplace and built-in bookcases. Through the living room, heading toward the back of the house, was a music room with an entire wall of windows overlooking the lake.

“Jack, what is this place? Who lives here?” she called out. She was staring at the lake when he walked up to her.

“Family vacation house, I guess you could say. A handful of cousins share it. C’mon, I’ll show you upstairs.”

Bedrooms. “Definitely let’s see the upstairs.”

At the top of the curving staircase, the landing and hallway ran the length of the house. Another staircase branched off, leading to a third floor.

The house fascinated her. “I assume you’re one of the co-owners. Do you have a bedroom that’s always been yours?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He led her past the second floor bedrooms. “I’m the youngest of the cousins and the only one who’s unmarried, so I got the last pick. It’s on the third floor, but we could use one of these down here if you would prefer.”

“Oh, no.” She smirked. “I definitely want to see where the teenaged Jack McIntyre jerked off after everyone else had gone to bed.”

He rolled his eyes, but she just laughed. “Oh? Was that too crude? ‘Where the teenage Jack McIntyre pleasured himself,’ would be more polite, I suppose.”

“I should be thankful you didn’t make the obvious pun on my name,” he muttered as they climbed to the third floor.

No sign of the stuffy federal judge now.

His room was smaller, true, and the ceiling seemed low after the spacious proportions on the lower floors, but it had the best view of the lake. It even had a tiny balcony. Jack set about opening windows to air it out.