“THAT WAS SO BAD,” SAID Becca, tossing the empty candy box in the trash.

“Oh, thank God.” He let out the breath he’d been holding. “I was afraid you liked it.” His plans to make things up to Becca felt as if they’d slowly started to unravel as soon as the opening credits played.

He’d picked her up at her place and managed to get from her door to his car with nothing more than a chaste kiss on her cheek. Not an insignificant accomplishment considering how good she looked in a mini-dress and heels that made her legs go on forever. She was still elegant but more relaxed, without any of the power suit kind of thing he’d seen her in before. Every time he saw a different side of her, she pulled him in a little more. If he didn’t get clear about what he wanted, spending time with this woman could be dangerous.

He’d felt a hesitancy in her too, probably left over from him being an ass at her place. But she’d been the one to take his hand in the darkened theater, only letting go of it to devour Hot Tamales he’d bought with the tickets. He’d have gladly fed them to her one at a time if it meant he got to keep her delicate fingers twined with his, but he’d never even hinted at the possibility. Thinking it made him feel like a damn fool; he had no desire to share the impulse with anyone else.

Seizing the opportunity, he took her hand in his and fell into step beside her. His training made him used to taking point, but he had a feeling even if he was in front, Becca would always be the one leading. The idea didn’t grate on him the way he expected.

“It was awful. How did they not end up in jail for a million years?” Becca shook her head as they threaded their way across the parking lot along with the wave of people leaving the theater.

“They would never have made it past the first set of guards, let alone into the vault. That’s the only reason they wouldn’t die in prison. They’d get caught before they could commit a real crime,” he said, leading her to the passenger side of his car.

“Yes! That’s it exactly. And I get that the romance was supposed to be the main lure, but who stops in the middle of a bank heist to make out?” She turned away from his car and smiled up at him, caught by the thought.

For a moment he simply stood there, stunned by the woman in front of him, her expression so light and open. It was so different from the hard-nosed attorney who made the people around her jump to do her bidding. She was an emotional chameleon, shifting between obligations and hard edges to joy and love for the people around her. A man would never be bored with a woman like her. And he’d seen her with her family enough to know she loved with the same ferocity she used to demand results. It was an intoxicating mix.

Without giving himself a chance to overthink things again, he leaned in and did what he’d been dreaming of since she blew through the door of the interrogation room at the police station. He cupped her face with his hand, meeting her gaze and holding it long enough for her to tell him no if she wanted. Instead, she leaned into his palm, parting her lips in exactly the invitation he needed.

He kissed her, gently at first, still controlled. Just a soft brush of his lips against hers. Her hand went to his chest, fingers curling into the cloth of his button-down shirt, and she sighed in pleasure. Needing more, he deepened the kiss, licking along the seam of her lips, tugging her bottom lip gently between his teeth and catching her answering sigh with his mouth. She tasted like cinnamon, sweet from the candy she’d eaten, and for a moment, he simply lost himself in the taste of her. In the feel of her hands on his chest, his hand in her hair. Breathing in the scent of her delicate perfume as her lips met his, making silent demands of her own. Demands he’d be more than happy to spend the rest of the night filling.

“Honestly.” A disgusted voice cut through the fog of his desire, followed by a wolf whistle that somehow felt friendlier. Neither was something he should have let happen.

Groping Becca in some kind of PDA-induced haze was exactly the kind of thing he’d planned to avoid. The inevitable problem was every time he was around the sexy attorney, part of his brain seemed to short-circuit and his plans for restraint went running off the rails.

“Come on. I’ve got reservations at the Southern Fork. Hopefully dinner will be good enough to redeem the movie.” And if he was eating, he’d at least be able to avoid kissing her for the length of their meal. He wanted to promise more, but he knew better than to lie. Especially to himself.

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THE MAN WAS going to give her whiplash. He’d gone from irritating at the police station—although that may have been more her state of mind than his actions—to being so helpful at Amanda’s wedding, it made her formerly shriveled ovaries rehydrate. He was hot guy on the dance floor and even hotter guy in her apartment until the moment he wasn’t. He was the guy who pursued her with roses and gentle persistence until she agreed to this date. Then he was the guy who kissed her in a way that made her want to skip dinner and head straight for dessert.

And then stopped.

Again.

Although she couldn’t fault him for that one. She hadn’t planned on making out in the parking lot, but the danger was real.

Seriously, the man could kiss. Soft, full lips. Warm hands firm on her face. His fingers tangled in her hair, cradling her like she was something precious. She’d gripped the fabric of his shirt to keep from trying to climb him. In the end, all she’d done was wrinkle his dress shirt—crisp white cotton open at the collar to reveal a triangle of dark skin she ached to press her lips against—and melt her brain surrendering to his kiss. Thank goodness he had the good sense to pull away before they got hauled in for public indecency; she’d have followed him almost anywhere. Her response to him shocked her a little bit. She wasn’t the kind of woman to give in so easily, or at all. She was afraid if Nate asked her, there was no limit to the things she’d do.

Not that it looked like he’d ever ask her. Every time they started to get close to the good stuff, the frustrating man put on the brakes. It made her remember all kinds of things from her high school years that were better left forgotten. Stupid things like milk and cow sayings. She didn’t want to chase him—or maybe she did, but she wouldn’t. In her experience, that didn’t work for the man or for her, but she wasn’t about to play some bullshit hard-to-get kind of game with Nate. Not when his kisses alone made it hard for her to remember where she was and what she was supposed to be doing.

Keeping his hands disappointingly to himself, Nate opened the car door for her and waited for her to sit and buckle herself in before sliding into the seat across from her. The restaurant was just a couple of blocks from the movie theater. In other shoes, she might have suggested they walk, but given the way their last evening ended, she wasn’t willing to give up the height advantage heels gave. And if she was really being honest, she liked how it felt when she caught him looking at her legs. It was a small comfort to think he might be as thrown off-kilter by whatever this thing was between them as her. More would be good, actually. She didn’t realize how much she counted on having the upper hand in a situation until she didn’t have it. Which, with the exception of their brief encounter at the police station, she hadn’t had since they met.

“Everything okay over there?” Nate glanced over at her, concern on his face, and she realized she’d been lost in her thoughts for what was probably an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Fine. Sorry, just thinking.”

“Not about the movie? It’s not worth more of your attention.”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “Thankfully not. I like the way you kiss me.” There, she said it. No preamble. No hiding. No games. He could do what he wanted with the information. She hoped what he decided to do was kiss her again.

He waited a beat, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head, as if he were looking for the hidden pitfalls. The emotional dragons waiting to trip him up. Before that night, she’d have said there weren’t any real emotions involved, just chemistry, but after the night they spent talking at her place and the time holding hands, laughing and cringing in the dark movie theater, that wasn’t true anymore. If it ever was.

“That’s good, because I like kissing you.” He parked the car in front of the restaurant and reached for her hand. Instead of leaning in, he kept his gaze on hers, raised her hand to his lips, and brushed a feather-soft kiss over her knuckles. A kiss so unpresuming in its tenderness, she had to stifle her sigh or risk giving away everything. “I plan to do it as often as you’ll let me. Let’s go eat.”

Wait...what?

She bit her lip, wishing he was the one doing the biting, and unbuckled her seat belt as he hurried around to open her door, more like a man who’d dodged a bullet than one who planned to kiss her as often as she’d let him. Which would be pretty damn often if they ever managed to get their moods to align.

Nate held open the door to the restaurant, and Becca inhaled the delicious aroma of charred meat and wood smoke. The Southern Fork started during the height of the farm-to-table craze and rode the wave long enough to generate real critical acclaim beyond what often felt like a gimmick. She’d wanted to go for years, but it had never worked out. Odd, considering she usually managed to do whatever she set her mind to. Or, on second thought, maybe not so odd because this was something she simply wanted for the adventure of it. For the pleasure. It wasn’t part of a bigger work goal or for someone she loved. It was just for her and in this case for Nate as well.

The hostess led them through the room with its charming copper-top tables to a booth in the corner with a view of the open kitchen and wood oven. There seemed to be an almost constant stream of pizzas and other dishes going in and out of the brick arch.

“My gran used to make corn cakes with benne,” Nate said, looking up from the menu. “So much of this looks like dressed-up versions of what I grew up with—not the wood-fired pizza. I don’t think she ever ate that. I know she didn’t make it.”

“Benne’s sesame seeds, right?”

“Yep, like low country tahini but not.” Nate smiled at her, and she was struck one more time by how surprising this man was. It made it hard for her to get her bearings, which made everything that much more exciting.

“It was just the two of you? You and your gran?”

“After my parents passed, yes.” He nodded. “My granddaddy was already gone by then. She loved me. I owe her everything, but the house was pretty quiet. Not true for you, I imagine.”

“Not hardly. I had to move out to get any peace and then I realized it was kind of a be careful what you wish for thing. Amanda moving in helped.” She paused for a moment, thinking about her sister and her new husband and her empty house. It might be time for her to get a cat.

“What made you want to be a lawyer?” Nate watched her, his gaze intent, focused.

Under other circumstances, she imagined it could make someone uncomfortable, but to her, it made it clear he was really listening and not figuring out what to say next. So much of her time was spent verbally jockeying with witnesses and other attorneys. Active listening was a crazy attractive characteristic.

“It’s going to sound silly and disingenuous, but I want things to be fair. And I could tell even when I was a kid that they weren’t. Law seemed like the place where I might be able to help with that.” She worried about sounding like some kind of Crusader. It wasn’t that exactly. It was more that she’d been blessed with people who loved her and supported her, who made things easier for her. That made her want to make things easier for people who didn’t have that. Even the playing field. “And I love to argue.”

He laughed, a warm, rich sound she felt in her solar plexus. She liked making him laugh, and she loved the way he listened.

“That’s perfect. I can’t think of a better reason or a better choice.”

They were silent for a moment, studying the menu and making their selections, while she decided to ignore the way his approval made her feel.

“How’s Jesse doing? Is it like having a shadow?” She hadn’t talked to her brothers about the boy since the manners lesson in Emerson’s office.

“There’s a reason kids start out as babies and not teenagers. No one would have them.” Nate smiled and shook his head. “Actually, it’s not bad. He’s a pain in the ass, but he likes being around the guys. Don’t tell anyone.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I kind of like having him around. It’s cool teaching him things. I can see why people have kids. Just not maybe teenagers.”

Becca laughed. “I think boys are worse. I remember how obnoxious my brothers were as teenagers.”

“Do you want a big family like the one you grew up in? Or like your cousins? It seemed like there were dozens of them.”

“We can be a lot when we all get together.”

The server brought their drinks and appetizer, and Becca was grateful for the interruption so she didn’t have to answer the family question.

“Is that what you want for yourself?” he asked, picking up an oyster by the shell.

“It’s complicated.” She’d relaxed too soon, but the way he watched her made her doubt her ability to dodge. That seemed like wishful thinking.

“So explain.” He tipped the oyster into his mouth and let out a groan of pleasure that was distracting. Or would’ve been if he’d let her off the hook.

“I want to make partner. Right now, I want that more than I want anything else.” This was where it would all head south. If talking about starting a family was a date taboo, admitting she wasn’t sure she wanted one might be worse. “I don’t know if it’s possible to accomplish that and have a family or even make another person a priority.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she held her hand up to stop him. If they were going to get to know each other over stone-roasted oysters, they may as well go all in. He took her hand instead.

“I know most people want that. I get it. Between Gabe and Emerson, Amanda and all my cousins, it feels like everyone around me is pairing off. I understand the lure. I do. I’m just not sure I’m cut out for it.”

“Why in the world not? I’ve seen the way you are with your family or at least enough to know that when you love, you love deeply. Why wouldn’t you want that for yourself?”

Talking about love with Nate while he held her hand, his fingertips making circles over her palm, didn’t feel like the safest plan. But short of bolting, she wasn’t sure how to escape it. She met his dark-eyed gaze and realized, for that night anyway, she didn’t want to.

“It’s not the same as pushing to make partner,” said Nate. “But I understand the drive to work for something you really want. I think I’d have burned out if I didn’t.”

Considering his line of work, she wondered if burned out was code for would have died, but she couldn’t think of a good way to ask if he didn’t offer. She knew the men who worked with her brothers had a very special skill set, but she had a feeling she’d be more comfortable keeping that knowledge in the abstract.

“It’s different for men, though. Some of it’s biology—we carry the babies inside us. That removes the idea that parenting is somehow optional. But some of it is societal as well. I know.” She held her hand up before he could protest. “Not all men, and it’s a thousand times better than it was, but it’s still easier for a man to have a demanding career and a family than it is for a woman. I’ve watched my girlfriends juggling. Sometimes leaning in just means falling over.”

How did they end up talking about families and kids? It was their first freaking date. At least she hoped that’s what this was, with kissing and more waiting for them at the end of the evening. Deep conversations about careers and babies weren’t standard this early in a relationship. In her experience, they were topics better kept far away from any proposed sexy times. Nothing with Nate had been standard so far. It didn’t look like this was going to be any different.

“I get what you mean.” He nodded, but she could tell he intended to push back. “But I don’t think it has to be that way. You said something about parenting being optional. I know. Not all men.” He copied the cadence of her voice in a way that would have been mocking if he didn’t hit her with a real smile while he did it. “If we change things up so one parent isn’t on the hook and both people share responsibilities, then why can’t we shift the career stuff, too, so one person isn’t carrying all the kid stuff on their own?”

Nate smiled at her over the top of the shell as he tipped another oyster into his mouth. He looked completely unperturbed. As if he’d figured out the disparity between the sexes and had a plan in place to rectify things. For all she knew, he did, which meant she really was in trouble.

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NATE WASN’T SURE why he pushed her on the family thing. Maybe it was because of the way they met or seeing all the Southerlands together at the wedding. A longing for that kind of big, loving family he hadn’t realized until he was standing in the middle of all of them. Or maybe it was because Becca made him consider things he hadn’t before.

She wasn’t a damsel who needed saving. She was a grown-ass woman who could stand on her own two feet. Hell, he didn’t doubt she could help him to his if he needed. It was incredibly sexy, which made his decision to try to slow things down so much harder.

The oysters probably didn’t help with that, but they were delicious. Barely cooked with just a hint of smoke from the oven, they were tender with a briny sweetness accentuated by the lemon and peppercorn topping. Sophisticated in their simplicity. A little like Becca. The fact that he connected the two proved both his devotion to food shows and how far gone he was over the woman sitting across the table.

He didn’t want to think about Gabe and Emerson’s reaction, but he wanted to spend a lot more time with Becca. Talking to her about her work and her family, watching her passion for the things she loved, made him want so much more. What would it be like to have that passion turned in his direction?

They finished every bite of their dinner—shrimp and grits, pulled pork with corn cakes and the best collards he’d ever eaten. There was a nostalgia in the dishes and ingredients that made him a little homesick for his gran’s cooking. Although hers wasn’t as good as the Southern Fork, a fact he had no intention of sharing with anyone.

“I’m not sure I can move,” said Becca, leaning back in her chair. “Seriously, what were we thinking, getting dessert?”

“That it would be a sin to pass on the bread pudding?” The meal added time to his workout in hours, not minutes, but it was worth it to watch the way Becca’s face shifted in degrees of pleasure as they ate. He planned to spend a significant amount of time figuring out how to put those expressions on her face.

“That’s true, but it’s small recompense if they have to roll us out of here.”

“I can carry you if it comes to that.” He wouldn’t mind a chance to do just that. Holding Becca felt like exactly what he needed.

Her cheeks flushed, and she smiled at him.

“I think I can manage, but I’ll let you know.”

Not ready for the night to be over, he took her hand and ran his fingertips along the soft skin on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m glad you gave me another chance.”

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I never meant for you to feel like I was trying to hide you,” she said, searching his face. “But I can understand why you felt like that. It’s not what I meant at all. I didn’t want you to worry about my brothers. They’re overly protective, but mostly harmless.”

“All of which is completely understandable. Any chance we can forget all of that happened?”

“Absolutely.”

The smile she hit him with was the one she gave her family. Being on the receiving end warmed him in a way the coffee and after-dinner drinks hadn’t.

The server came by one more time to check on them and to let them know the kitchen was closing. Nate paid the bill, added a generous tip for all the time they tied up the table, and followed Becca outside, his hand resting on the small of her back because there wasn’t room for them to hold hands, and he couldn’t stand the idea of not touching her. He took her hand when they were back in his car. Much too soon, he pulled up in front of her house.

He wanted Becca more than was rational given how they’d started and the brief time they’d known each other. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was touching her and then finding a way to stop before things went too far. Although he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to do it.

He parked in front of her house and came around to the passenger door to meet her. She opened the door and climbed out, her gorgeous legs in the incredibly distracting high heels leading the way. He remembered what it felt like to have his hands on her, gripping her ankle as he rubbed her feet. He wanted that again and so much more.

They didn’t say a word as they walked to her front door. Nate didn’t know if he wanted her to invite him in or not. If she invited him in, he was going to do his damnedest to say no and regret it the rest of the night. If she didn’t, he’d obsess about why not. As far as he could see, there was no good choice.

“I had a really good time tonight. I want to invite you in because I want you.” Her voice went breathy at the end, and his cock swelled against the zipper of his pants. He might have a plan, but his body had other ideas. “But I want more than a one-night thing with you, so I think maybe we should wait at least a little bit.” She gazed up at him, looking uncertain and vulnerable for the first time.

He should have known Becca would have found a way to blend the two alternatives. Closing the distance between them, he pulled her into his arms and bent his head to claim her mouth. She arched into him, stretching to fit herself against him as he teased her lips with his. She tasted sweet and a little smoky, bitter like coffee and the bourbon they’d sipped after dinner. It was intoxicating, and every minute he spent with her in his arms made it that much harder to let her go.

Her arms around his neck pulled him closer, and he moved at her unspoken command. He didn’t know where the line was of things he’d do because Becca wanted him to, and he didn’t trust himself to find out. Before he had to find the strength of will to pull back, she broke the kiss, but she didn’t let go of him. They stood that way for moments, holding each other in front of her door.

“Tell me when I can see you again so I can make myself let go of you,” he said. “I know you’re busy with work. I can come to you.”

“Is lunch on Monday too soon?”

“Monday can’t come soon enough. Sweet dreams, Becca.” He kissed her one more time and then pulled away while she unlocked her door, taking a step back while he still could.