Shut Off (Just This Once #3) (11 page)

As I watched Lara storm off, I silently hoped that that would be the last I’d hear of her. That part of my life was over. It was time to get started on something better.
More like someone better
.

I spent so much time assuming I would lose—not only the case but also Blaire—I hadn’t had time to wrap my head around the idea of her staying with someone like me.
Someone new to relationships, to love, to running a company.
In spite of all the things that made me wet behind the ears, it was Blaire that I wanted to experience all of those things with. I just had to convince her to stay.

“So, it looks like you have some of your own secrets,” I said as I took Blaire’s hand.

“You
gotta
admit
,
that was pretty badass of me.”

“Come on, Magnum P.I.” She practically skipped over
to me, a smile plastered from ear to ear and eyes free of all of the stress and tension she’d been holding onto for weeks
. It was the first time I’d seen her completely elated. And the whole ride home I couldn’t deny that I wanted her to share all of her smiles with me.

***

The first thing that crossed my mind when I unlocked the doors to my house was sweeping Blaire off her feet and making a swift retreat to the bedroom where I planned to thank her body in every conceivable way my body could.

“I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t unpack anything.” Her voice held a nervous chuckle as she walked inside.

“Joel?” With an arched eyebrow she watched me still standing in the open doorway, letting the cool air of the AC escape into the heated day.

“You…you don’t have to go. You can stay.” I was fumbling for words. I thought I had more time to finesse words, to warm her up to the idea, to show her how easy things could be without the weight of the trial weighing us both down.

“Plus, your stuff’s already here,” I continued. “You wouldn’t have to worry about moving things from here to there, and you know how things break, and tape is so flimsy these days.”

Blaire crossed her arms over her chest as she patiently listened to my laundry list of everything wrong with the moving experience—one she was probably more familiar with than I was, seeing as how she’d only moved to Vegas six months ago and I’d lived there for years.

“And what about my job?”

“What about it?”

“Henderson
messaged me. My suspension’s over
.”

“So?”

“You don’t see a problem with me working for the one place that was suing you only fifteen minutes ago?”

“Oh, that? Is it too early to say water under the bridge? What do you want to do, Blaire? I have enough money to allow you to start your own firm, or you could come work with my legal team. Or—”

“I’m not Lara. I want to make my own money. I want my successes to be my own. Besides, I don’t even know what this is, and now you’re asking me to live with you?”

“After everything I’ve done to get you to even speak to me, asking you to be my girlfriend in the foyer of my home feels so uninspired. So, I’m not going to, but what I can tell you is I love you, Blaire. I don’t care what you do for a living as long as I’m the one you come home to. I never had a problem with feeling lonely before you, but those weeks without you were the hardest I’ve ever had to endure.”

“Joel…your father just died. You’re
griev
—”

“Don’t tell me I feel the way I feel about you because I miss my father. What I feel for you has nothing to do with how I feel about my father’s death. I miss him. I love him, but most of all I’m sad because he missed out on meeting you. He would have loved you, and he would have wanted me to settle down with someone as sweet and stubborn, beautiful and smart as you.”

“So then, you like me because your father would’ve liked me?”

“Blaire. Would it make things easier for you to accept this if I tell you there’s a storm outside?”

“But there isn’t,” she dropped her hands, fixing one on her cocked hip as we sparred back and forth. I never imagined it would be this hard to convince her to stay, but like everything else that involved Blaire, it was never as easy as it seemed.

“There will be if you go. Now, shut up and tell me you love me…
that’s
what all the heroines do in the movies. Oh, and try to make it look convincing.

She seemed to look everywhere but at me, as if my home were now under inspection now that I had asked her to stay. I felt my thumping heart still in my chest in those few moments when her eyes were evasive and she didn’t run into my arms like I’d imagined every girl did when a man said those three magic words.

The click of her heels sounded twice as loud as she stepped closer to me. I watched the slight sway of her hips as she drew nearer. The slow stride of one foot in front of the other mocked me with every step.

She held out a proffered hand, “OK.”

“OK? OK, what?”

“I’ll stay.”

I didn’t know whether to be shocked by what she said or shocked by what she didn’t.

“And…”

“And?”

“Let’s try this again.” I pushed against her shoulders a bit until the weight of my touch forced her to fall back a couple steps. “OK, now run your little ass over here, kiss me like you mean it, and tell me you love me. Come on, Blaire, you’re supposed to be the one guiding me here. Not the other way around.”

“But you’re doing such a good job,” she giggled.
She’s laughing at me.

I growled, closing the space between us. Lifting her up in my arms, I stole a kiss from those plump little lips that mocked me. The touch of her teeth bumped against
mine
as she couldn’t keep from smiling as I licked her bottom lip.

I kissed the smile from her lips, until I found the shell of her
ear. I murmured
words into her ear, whispered things I planned to do to her for the remainder of the night. There was just one little thing I was waiting on…

“I love you! I love you!” she nearly shouted, bouncing in my arms from her excitement. My teeth closed down around her earlobe, giving a slight nick as I clutched her tighter in my arms and bounded up the stairs. I made it to the top of the staircase with an eager Blaire wriggling in my arms.

“But, we have to go over some rules!”

“I know, pretty bird. Tomorrow.”

 

 

The End.

 

 

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Titles by Cee Smith

 

Just This Once Series

Shut In

Shut Out

Shut Off

 

Stolen Series

Stolen Donor

Stolen & Fractured

About The Author

 

Cee Smith is a lover of the written word. Since first learning how to string a sentence together, she’s been putting pen to paper and hasn’t looked back. Though she’s no longer obsessed with blood and gore, the dark side still calls to her, often finding refuge in her current writings. Her addiction to reading is what finally inspired her to take a chance at publishing.

 

A California native, currently residing in North Carolina with her husband. She loves salacious stories, true love and forbidden romances—the more angst the better. Other than reading and writing, some of her other obsessions are peanut butter (don’t get her started), Michael Fassbender, and watching TV.

 

She loves talking about the creative process and what books she’s reading, so feel free to shoot her a line
here
. Or if you just want to say hi that’s fine too. She swears she’ll respond.

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