When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss (Aspen Grove)

Prologue

“Y ou would look prettier if you put more effort into your appearance. My mother thinks every woman should wear a dress, especially on a first date,” Kevin says with a smug smile. “At least you’re predictable, that’s something I appreciate,” he adds, his tone condescending.

My fingers tighten around the menu as I take a deep breath. “I’ll keep your suggestion in mind,” I say.

He taps his teeth together while checking his phone. “Good. Like Mother always says, a little effort goes a long way,” he states, oblivious to my frustration.

He’s such an asshole.

This has quickly become the worst date I’ve ever been on.

I set my menu down and take a sip of my water, glancing around as I weigh my chances of slipping out of the restaurant unnoticed. As if he can read my mind, Kevin squeezes my knee under the table.

With a resigned sigh, I lean back in my chair. When he first messaged me, he was charming and witty. After a month of video chats and texts, he asked me out to dinner at Tuscany Table, an Italian spot in Brooklyn. I was excited to see if our connection would be as strong in person. Spoiler alert: It isn’t.

First, he dragged me to a pet store to buy crickets for his lizard—a pet he conveniently forgot to mention. He’s been on his phone nonstop, likely searching for a woman who will wear a dress on a date. And he won’t stop complaining about the menu prices, even though he chose the restaurant.

I can’t believe I let Noah talk me into signing up for a dating app, let alone agree to meet someone I barely know.

The server approaches, a friendly smile on his face. “What can I get you two?”

I open my mouth to speak, but Kevin beats me to it. “I’ll have the lasagna, and she’ll take the eggplant parmesan,” he says.

How would you know what I want? You haven’t asked.

To keep myself from saying something I’ll regret, I take another sip of water. While I would have preferred red wine, Kevin dismissed the waiter when he asked for our drink order. It’s obvious Kevin is aiming to spend as little as possible since he ordered the two cheapest items on the menu.

I wish I had the courage to get up and leave. I want to tell him he’s a condescending, arrogant asshole, and I’d rather be at home eating ice cream in my pajamas, watching reruns of Love Island , but my fear of confrontation keeps me glued to my seat to avoid causing a scene. Resigned, I hold back my sigh and slide my dinner fork farther away. I don’t trust myself not to use it if Kevin puts his hand on my knee one more time; aversion to confrontation be damned.

I glance up to see the server jotting down our order. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“That will be all,” Kevin says tersely.

“Excellent; I’ll be out with your food shortly.” The waiter pockets his notepad and heads back to the kitchen.

I wish he’d taken me with him.

“You’re going to love the eggplant parmesan,” Kevin says, which prompts me to turn back to him. “It’s my mother’s favorite.”

I plaster on a fake smile. “I’m sure I will.”

It might just be me, but I find it odd that he keeps bringing up his mom. My mom passed away when I was a toddler, and while I’m close to my grandma, I would never bring her up on a first date unless it was relevant to the conversation.

When Kevin’s phone chimes, he picks it up, smiling while reading the message on the screen.

“My mom wants to meet you,” he says enthusiastically.

I sputter, water spraying from my mouth. “Why? This is our first date.”

Besides my best friend Noah, I’ve never brought a man to meet my grandma. If I were to introduce her to someone else, we’d have spent far more time together or were serious enough to warrant her approval. So, I’m struggling to understand Kevin’s logic.

“We’ve been talking for weeks,” he reminds me. “She wants to meet the woman who’s captured my heart.”

My spine stiffens and I blink rapidly as his words sink in. “Hold on. Have you been sharing our conversations with your mom?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Of course. She’s especially grateful for the play-by-play since she couldn’t be here with us. We’ll have to bring her with us on our next date.”

Alarms blare in my head. We are definitely not on the same page.

I have to get out of here.

My pulse is racing, and my palms are clammy. I set my glass on the table, pushing my chair back and stand up quickly. “Excuse me, I need to visit the restroom,” I blurt out, barely able to contain my panic.

Without waiting for him to answer, I grab my purse from the table and hurry toward the back of the restaurant. I see the signs leading to the hallway with the restrooms but hesitate when I spot a door that opens onto an outdoor patio.

“That’s not the way to the bathroom.” Kevin’s voice cuts through the air.

I glance back to see that he’s following me, his face twisted with anger. Instinctively, I sprint toward the exit. Once outside, I weave through the tables as I evade curious looks from other patrons and turn into a narrow alley next to the building.

“Reese, stop running,” Kevin shouts from behind me. “You owe me an explanation.”

Like hell I do.

The stifling humidity wraps around me like a damp blanket, and when I exit the alley, sweat is dotting my forehead—I’m unsure if it’s from the heat or my nerves. My jeans and short-sleeve shirt offer little relief in the muggy summer air. My body trembles from the adrenaline, my heartbeat racing, and my breaths coming out in short, ragged bursts.

I frantically scan for a place to hide before Kevin catches up with me. Both the bakery next door and the clothing boutique across from the restaurant are closed. Just when I’m about to lose hope, I spot Steel the rose petals are drawn with a lace-like delicacy, contrasting with the bold outline of the skull.

These are more than just tattoos—they’re works of art that command attention.

“Did you design these?” I ask, waving toward the wall.

My fingers hover over the image of the wolf, they graze the glass and trace the delicate linework of its fur, in awe of the intricate details. Cole is an enigma, and I’m fascinated by how he can be so unapologetically outspoken, even abrasive, yet still possess an uncanny ability to create something so beautiful.

He approaches from behind, standing close enough for me to feel the heat of his body, and the scent of leather and sandalwood surrounds me.

“Yeah, I did,” he says, his voice low.

I turn my head back to look at him. “You’re exceptionally talented.”

While I enjoy doodling simple floral designs, these are on a whole different level. Despite his gruff demeanor, Cole’s art offers a glimpse into another side of him, stirring a curiosity inside me that I want to explore.

I tug my lip between my teeth as I study his work. I’ve never considered getting a tattoo until now, but seeing his artwork makes me curious what it would be like to get one. To feel his strong hands on me, his touch firm and confident as he marks my skin.

I’m about to shake off the idea as impractical and impulsive when Kevin’s words echo in my mind.

At least you’re predictable.

He might have considered it a compliment, but I didn’t see it that way. I never take chances or confront things head-on, preferring to stay in my comfort zone. But what if, for one night, I was adventurous? To prove to myself I can do it. Then tomorrow, I can go back to my predictable ways, having had a taste of living on the edge.

I spin around to face Cole. “I’d like you to give me a tattoo,” I declare, sounding more confident than I am.

He rears back like he’s offended. “No.”

“Why not? You’re a tattoo artist, it’s your job,” I remind him. “And I’m a paying customer.” I hold out my purse with false bravado.

I’m not sure what a tattoo costs, so I’m hoping the fifty dollars I set aside for new sneakers will cover it.

“For starters, we’re closed.” He motions to the dimly lit room.

“Oh, come on,” I protest, tugging my shirt up to reveal my hip. “What about a butterfly right here?” I point to the bare skin.

Cole rolls his eyes. “A tattoo is meant to be personal and should tell a unique story. Don’t shy away from choosing something that’s special to you, even if it’s somewhere only you can see.” I swear his gaze burns hotter, but I brush it off as my mind playing tricks. “But don’t be a damn sheep when it comes to permanent ink.”

My eyes drift to the compass tattoo on his forearm. The detailed blackwork is a network of fine lines and shading, creating a masterful design. I can’t help but wonder what the story is behind that one.

I let out a humorless chuckle. “Are you always this warm and friendly to clients?”

“Worse. Consider yourself lucky that I’m turning you away.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I mumble under my breath.

“Looks like you’re a magnet for jerks tonight, huh?” He rakes his fingers through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Where did you meet that guy anyway? He’s a real piece of work.”

I adjust my purse, hiking it up my shoulder, and glance at the ground. “A dating app.”

Which I’m deleting asap.

“That’s where you went wrong,” Cole points out. “People can pretend to be anyone online, but in real life, they rarely measure up.”

I hold my finger up in challenge. “There’s one problem with your theory.”

He raises a brow. “Yeah, and what’s that?”

I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. “I met you the old-fashioned way, and you’re a jerk too,” I say with a smug smile.

It’s strange how they share similarities yet are so different. With Kevin, I left at the earliest opportunity, but with Cole, I’m looking for any excuse to stay.

“I might be a jerk, but at least when I’m on a date, the woman has my full attention and respect.” My traitorous heart beats faster as he draws closer. “If I were him, I would have taken you to a rooftop restaurant with a stunning view of the city and ordered the most expensive bottle of champagne.” Cole leans in until our noses almost touch. This close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes, how his gaze burns with intensity, but rather than feel intimidated, I’m intrigued. “And at the end of the night, I would have kissed you until neither of us could think straight,” he adds in a whisper, so low I have to edge forward.

His declaration sends a flurry of butterflies through my stomach, making me wish he’d kiss me now.

He trails his finger along my arm in teasing strokes. The tension between us crackles like a live wire, making it impossible to focus on anything but him.

“Is that so?”

Cole may be abrasive and just told me to leave five minutes ago. Yet, he didn’t hesitate to protect me when Kevin showed up, talked me out of getting a tattoo I’d no doubt regret come morning, and made me feel more alive than I have in ages, which is a stark contrast from my boring, predictable routine. Is this really happening right now?

I inhale deeply when he captures me around the waist and pulls me against his chest, a spark of electricity coursing through me at his touch. I might be going on a dating hiatus after tonight, but there’s no denying I’m attracted to this man.

“Tell me I can kiss you, Reese.”

It wouldn’t hurt to do something reckless for once, right? I’ll probably never see Cole again, and I have a feeling he knows how to satisfy a woman.

“Yes, please,” I murmur.

I’m frozen in place when he leans in to kiss along the edge of my jaw. My breathing quickens and I glance up to find his cold gaze softened, replaced by a deniable hunger that radiates desire.

Cole’s mouth finds mine in a possessive kiss and his tongue dances along the seams of my lips, coaxing me to let him in. He lets out a low growl when I open my mouth and welcome him inside. He lifts me onto the reception desk, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as my fingers grip the nape of his neck.

“Fuck, I knew you’d taste sweet, Red,” Cole murmurs.

Emboldened by his words, I nip his bottom lip, moaning as I delve my tongue inside his mouth. I never expected a kiss to be so intense—an all-encompassing mix of passion and desire.

He rocks his hips against mine, his bulge rubbing against my core. My nipples grow achy, and I’m pulsing with need. I’m on the verge of begging for more when the rumble of a car engine outside has me pulling away. I’m met with Cole’s gaze, his striking blue eyes studying me closely as if gauging my reaction. His hair is tousled from my grip, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon, and his pupils are dilated.

Oh my god.

I just kissed a stranger. What was I thinking? I wasn’t—that’s the problem. His good looks and blunt honesty clouded my judgment.

I’ve got to get out of here.

I shove at Cole’s chest, causing his grip on my waist to slip, and I fall from his arms. Thankfully, I land on my feet, with a loud umph passes my lips when I hit the wood floor.

“You all right?” he asks, concern evident in his tone.

“Yep, just peachy.” I bend down to pick up my purse, which I dropped on the floor during our make out session. “I have to go.”

A flicker of emotion flashes across his face before he masks it with an impassive exterior. “Yeah, okay,” he says as he steps back.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. That kiss was incredible, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He must do this kind of thing all the time—he has heartbreaker written all over him.

“Thanks for letting me hide out here. I really appreciate it,” I tell him as I rush toward the front door. “And for the record, you’re far more likable than you make yourself out to be.”

He laughs dryly. “Not a single person in New York would agree with you.”

“They must not know you as well as I do.” I wink. “It was nice meeting you, Cole.”

I bolt out the door before he can respond. As I head toward the subway, my mind buzzes from the unforgettable kiss I just shared with a tattoo artist in Brooklyn. I touch my swollen lips, etching it into my memory so I’ll never forget the thrill of doing something so exhilarating and spontaneous.