mad.”
“I like the name. It’s distinctive.”
“It’s old-fashioned.”
“Mind if I call you Jessi?”
She assessed him for a moment. For as far back as she could remember, she’d always insisted on being called JT because growing up she hadn’t particularly cared for her name, but hearing him ask to call her Jessi in that mahogany voice of his made her rethink things. Trying to play it off, she shrugged. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Good.”
She had to look away from his eyes or drown. He made her feel female, and she wasn’t sure she knew how to handle that because it had been such a long time since she’d had a man truly interested in what lay beneath the JT persona. When she faced him again, he was watching her with muted interest, so to keep her nerves from showing, she asked, “What else should I know about you?”
“That I used to be a cop and am now a lawyer. I’m also part owner of my pops’s trucking company. We operate here in the states and in twelve countries overseas.”
Now it was her turn to stare. “Twelve countries?”
He nodded confidently as he sipped at the water in his glass. “Working on numbers thirteen and fourteen.”
JT scanned the chiseled features of his gorgeous face. “Anything else? No diamond mines? Working on a cure for cancer? Recipe for the perfect barbecue sauce?”
The low-voiced chuckle he responded with made her insides zing.
“I’m serious,” she countered in an amused voice. “Lawyer, huh? Where’d you go to school?”
“Did my undergrad at Western Michigan University. Got my law degree from Northwestern outside Chicago.”
“My sister was a cop in Detroit a few years back.”
“When?”
They discussed that, and found that Max had joined the force after Reese’s departure, so the two never met. Out of the corner of her eye JT saw their waitress approaching, loaded down with their dinner choices. “Here comes our food.”
“Good. I’m hungry.” But Reese was hungrier for more insight into the woman he now called Jessi.
Six
While they ate, they talked about his life as a cop and her life growing up in what she called Little Bitty Texas. “My mother was a cook in one of the state prisons. She didn’t make a lot of money but it was steady. She retired a few years ago.”
“Your father?”
“Died when Maxie and I were small. Construction accident.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. You and I have that in common, losing a parent.”
He nodded. “My pops never remarried.”
“Neither did my mother. Raised us by herself.”
The club was starting to fill. Well-dressed patrons of all races took seats at the tables, in the booths, and along the long curved bar on the far side of the room. The sax man had been replaced by a Latina on keyboards who sang just as well as she played.
Reese was impressed. “Can’t get over this great music.”
“A lot of the big names play here. I try and get over here as often as I can. The owner wants to retire, so my sister and I are thinking about buying the place.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise.
She shrugged. “Have to have something to do when I decide to close my shop. I’m a big jazz fan.” She glanced toward the door. Seeing two of her players enter, she groused, “Dammit.”
“What’s wrong?”
She sighed with frustration. “A couple of my clients just came in.”
Reese knew that her being there with him might present problems. “Maybe they won’t see you.”
“No such luck.” They’d already spotted her and were coming her way. Jason Grant and D’Angelo Nelson were two of the best linebackers in the league. On the field they were known as Shock and Awe, respectively.
When they reached her, both big men said in turn, “Hey Lady B,” but their attention was coolly fixed on Reese.
“Hey, you two,” she said in greeting. They were eyeing Reese like prey. “This is Reese Anthony. Reese—Jason Grant and D’Angelo Nelson.”
Reese stuck out a hand. The men
“I like the name. It’s distinctive.”
“It’s old-fashioned.”
“Mind if I call you Jessi?”
She assessed him for a moment. For as far back as she could remember, she’d always insisted on being called JT because growing up she hadn’t particularly cared for her name, but hearing him ask to call her Jessi in that mahogany voice of his made her rethink things. Trying to play it off, she shrugged. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Good.”
She had to look away from his eyes or drown. He made her feel female, and she wasn’t sure she knew how to handle that because it had been such a long time since she’d had a man truly interested in what lay beneath the JT persona. When she faced him again, he was watching her with muted interest, so to keep her nerves from showing, she asked, “What else should I know about you?”
“That I used to be a cop and am now a lawyer. I’m also part owner of my pops’s trucking company. We operate here in the states and in twelve countries overseas.”
Now it was her turn to stare. “Twelve countries?”
He nodded confidently as he sipped at the water in his glass. “Working on numbers thirteen and fourteen.”
JT scanned the chiseled features of his gorgeous face. “Anything else? No diamond mines? Working on a cure for cancer? Recipe for the perfect barbecue sauce?”
The low-voiced chuckle he responded with made her insides zing.
“I’m serious,” she countered in an amused voice. “Lawyer, huh? Where’d you go to school?”
“Did my undergrad at Western Michigan University. Got my law degree from Northwestern outside Chicago.”
“My sister was a cop in Detroit a few years back.”
“When?”
They discussed that, and found that Max had joined the force after Reese’s departure, so the two never met. Out of the corner of her eye JT saw their waitress approaching, loaded down with their dinner choices. “Here comes our food.”
“Good. I’m hungry.” But Reese was hungrier for more insight into the woman he now called Jessi.
Six
While they ate, they talked about his life as a cop and her life growing up in what she called Little Bitty Texas. “My mother was a cook in one of the state prisons. She didn’t make a lot of money but it was steady. She retired a few years ago.”
“Your father?”
“Died when Maxie and I were small. Construction accident.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. You and I have that in common, losing a parent.”
He nodded. “My pops never remarried.”
“Neither did my mother. Raised us by herself.”
The club was starting to fill. Well-dressed patrons of all races took seats at the tables, in the booths, and along the long curved bar on the far side of the room. The sax man had been replaced by a Latina on keyboards who sang just as well as she played.
Reese was impressed. “Can’t get over this great music.”
“A lot of the big names play here. I try and get over here as often as I can. The owner wants to retire, so my sister and I are thinking about buying the place.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise.
She shrugged. “Have to have something to do when I decide to close my shop. I’m a big jazz fan.” She glanced toward the door. Seeing two of her players enter, she groused, “Dammit.”
“What’s wrong?”
She sighed with frustration. “A couple of my clients just came in.”
Reese knew that her being there with him might present problems. “Maybe they won’t see you.”
“No such luck.” They’d already spotted her and were coming her way. Jason Grant and D’Angelo Nelson were two of the best linebackers in the league. On the field they were known as Shock and Awe, respectively.
When they reached her, both big men said in turn, “Hey Lady B,” but their attention was coolly fixed on Reese.
“Hey, you two,” she said in greeting. They were eyeing Reese like prey. “This is Reese Anthony. Reese—Jason Grant and D’Angelo Nelson.”
Reese stuck out a hand. The men
Similar Books
