In Trouble with Him, a not-to-be-missed, forbidden standalone romance from Stacy Travis is available now!
Falling in love was asking for trouble.
Meeting a hot professor at my best friend’s wedding has hookup written all over it.
Dammit it if he isn’t unexpectedly charming, making me want to abandon one-night stand plans for something more.
But dammit again if he doesn’t run off mid-kiss like a fugitive from Cinderella’s pumpkin coach.
That’s because he’s got a curfew as part of his house arrest for insider trading. Oh well, I’ll never see him again anyway.
Except that he shows up at my office—at my new job where I’ve just been made a law partner.
Turns out, he’s my newest client and he may be guilty of all kinds of things. Would it be a crime if he steals my heart?
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“Wow, time flies, huh?” he said.
“Are you having fun?”
He studied me for a moment. Then he was silent again. Of course, he wasn’t having fun. He was facing potential jail time and major fines from the SEC, not to mention he’d been put on leave from the job he loved, and his tenured position was probably in jeopardy. What a stupid thing to ask. “Sorry. I know this can’t be fun for you.”
After looking through the conference room glass for a moment, he nodded. “Actually, it is. But only because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met, and now that I have the pleasure of your company, it makes me happy,” he said.
“Wait, what?” I felt just as giddy as I had at age fourteen when a boy I’d been crushing on for months asked me if I’d mind paying for his slice of pizza after a high school football game. This was pre-cheerleading, to be clear. After I made the squad, the fourteen-year-olds paid for me. Mostly.
“Was that not clear? I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve barely thought of anything but you since we met. And given that I’m charged with insider trading and facing jail time, I find that significant.”
“I mean, that’s… ordinarily, it’s exactly what a woman wants to hear. But now…”
“Now that you know I’m charged with insider trading?”
“No, now that you’re my client. You insisted on being my client. I gave you an out, and you insisted. So now you get lawyer me, not Saturday night me. That was your choice,” I said. It was my turn to look through the glass because I couldn’t keep gazing at him without repercussions.
“I wasn’t aware you were two different people. For the record, I like both,” he said with a smile.
“You don’t get both. That’s not how this works.” I turned toward my notes, hoping he understood that recess was over.
“I’m the client. Don’t I get to dictate how things work?” he asked.
“No, you get to be the client. You answer my questions, and you behave yourself so I don’t get fired or disbarred. I feel like you weren’t listening when I just explained all that.”
“I was listening. I just chose to ignore it.”
He was frustrating. The fact that he was hot in a nerdy chiseled-jaw professor way was also frustrating. I needed to get control of the situation. Looking at the stacks of books on the conference room shelves, I saw nothing to give me direction as to how to handle the situation.
They should make law books for this. Or self-help books. Any guidance would be welcome.
It’s a rough world out there, and we all sometimes need a good, romantic beach read, even if we can’t make it to the beach. I’ve spent many lazy days walking the streets of Paris and other gorgeous European cities, and if I’m doing it right, I’m bringing you a dash of romance and a vacay fantasy.
I can’t sit still, so when I’m not hiking, biking or running, I’m playing a very average game of tennis. Background music for writing undoubtedly features some U2, Lizzo, Billy Joel, Pink, Taylor Swift, and Led Zeppelin. Not necessarily in that order. And if I could only eat one food group, it would be cheese. Or wine. Or bread. Are those food groups? Whatever.
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