The Way You Love Me. Donna Hill

his father, had agreed to take the position at the law firm Lake, Martin and Dubois, which is where he’d met Jasmine Dubois.

      “Are you finished with the depositions?” Justin asked. He was almost done with his drink. He peered down the length of the bar to get Bailey’s attention.

      “Should be completed by the end of the next week. I tell you, man, it’s been a nightmare.”

      “Once we get The Justice Project off the ground, we can finally start doing the kind of work that we want to do—that needs to be done.”

      “Not soon enough for me,” Carl said.

      “Refills, gentlemen?” Bailey looked from one to the other, refusing to settle on Justin’s face.

      “Another Corona for me.”

      “And you?”

      Justin studied the lines of her face, the way the tips of her eyes lifted ever so slightly, the soft rise of her breasts beneath the stiff black shirt, and the warm caramel of her skin. “I’ll take another.” He lifted his glass. The path of his gaze led to hers.

      That spark popped between them again. Bailey sucked in a breath when Justin ran his finger around the rim of his glass.

      “Coming right up.” She strode down the bar to retrieve the Corona from the icebox and filled a clean glass with bourbon.

      “If you two get any hotter, you’ll set the joint on fire,” Carl teased.

      Justin rolled his head toward Carl. “What are you talking about?”

      “You know damn well what I’m talking about. You haven’t stopped checking her out since you sat down.”

      “A man can look, can’t he?” He reached for a handful of cocktail peanuts.

      “Yeah, but Jasmine’s doing her best to claim you.”

      Justin heaved a sigh. “Yeah, Jasmine,” he murmured.

      “Trouble in paradise?”

      “Let’s just say she would like us to be in a relationship, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He slowly shook his head.

      “Hmm, makes it kind of tough with her being the boss’s daughter.”

      “Yeah...exactly.”

      “Here you go, gentlemen.” She placed the beer and glass in front of Carl and the bourbon in front of Justin. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

      “A table,” Carl groused.

      Bailey smiled, and Justin’s insides shifted. He lifted his glass and let his gaze drop into the depth of his drink instead of the dark pools that were her eyes.

      “We’re always busy on Friday nights. I take it this is your first time here.” She wiped down the space in front of them and refilled the snack bowl.

      “It is,” Justin said.

      “I wouldn’t want this to be your last time.” She was talking to them both, but her eyes were fixed on Justin. “Let me see what I can do about getting you a table.”

      “We’d appreciate that...” Justin waited for her to fill the blank.

      “Bailey.”

      “Justin.”

      “I’ll see what I can do, Justin.”

      “Oh, and I’m Carl,” he said, feigning offense at being ignored.

      Bailey laughed lightly. “Carl.”

      Bailey and Justin shared a look of amusement before she walked off.

      Carl’s cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the face of the phone and frowned. “Matthew...” He listened, and his expression grew tighter. “Okay. Give me a half hour. Thanks.” He disconnected the call and turned to Justin.

      “What’s up?”

      “I have to go back to the office. Matthew got a call from Judge Graham’s clerk. He wants us in chambers at nine tomorrow morning. You know how anal he is. I need to pull everything we have together on the obstruction case.”

      “Need some help?”

      “Naw.” Carl stood, finished off his beer and clapped Justin on the shoulder. “You stay. That’s why we have first-year associates for times like this. I’ll supervise, and they’ll work.” He lifted his chin. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll have much more fun here than back at the office.” He set his beer bottle down. “Tab is on you. Later.”

      Justin chuckled and lifted his drink to his lips just as Bailey returned.

      “I got you a table. Where’s Carl?”

      Justin’s brow flicked. “He had to leave. Problem at the office.”

      “Oh, well, if you still want the table...”

      He halfway shrugged. “Can I uh, order some food and sit at the bar?”

      Her heart bumped in her chest. She felt slightly giddy. “Sure. I’ll get you a menu. Be right back.”

      Justin watched her walk away and was immensely grateful for the anal Judge Graham.

Chapter 2

      Justin looked over the menu. He was pleased at the extensive selections and finally settled on a porterhouse steak, grilled asparagus and risotto.

      “I’ll put this in right away,” Bailey said. “It might be a while. Would you like an appetizer in the meantime?”

      “I’m a patient man.” He slowly turned his glass. “I can wait.”

      Bailey tried to swallow, but her throat was so dry that she choked.

      Justin leaned forward and reached for her. “You okay?”

      She blinked away the water that filled her eyes. Coughed. Coughed again and wished that the floor would open. She cleared her throat. Her vision cleared, and she realized that the fire on her hand was Justin’s.

      Bailey took a step back, slid her hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Guess something caught in my throat.”

      Justin sat back down. “Well, I would have been happy to resuscitate you had the need arisen.”

      Bailey’s stomach danced. There was that half grin again as if he knew something that no one else did.

      “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      She walked down the aisle to the other end of the bar to check on the customers and refills and could barely concentrate. What in the world was her problem? She was all twisted over some guy who could be a gorgeous serial killer for all she knew.

      “Bailey, can you check the couple on the end while I fix these martinis?” Mellie asked.

      “Sure.” That’s what she needed to be doing—paying attention to her customers, making sure that the bar was running at optimum efficiency, not getting all hot and bothered over some guy.

      “What’s the deal with the two you were serving?”

      “Oh, one of them had to leave. Business or something,” she added noncommitally while she prepared the drinks.

      “The one who stayed is yummy. And you know he has his eye on you. You gonna talk to him or what?”

      “Mellie...I talk to all of my customers.”

      “You know what I mean. He’s hot. I know you have some ‘policy’ about interacting with the customers, but come on, girl...”

      Hot. That he was. Her hand still tingled from his touch. But she’d never taken bar talk beyond the bar. To her it was the doorway