bowls, and they worked together in
companionable silence as Ethan gave her time to figure out what to
say.
“I’ll let you read the public stuff once I
get it together, but this one has years of abuse.” She pulled the
microwave open with a little more muscle than necessary, but
stirred the topping without showing her agitation. “Broken bones,
black eyes, belt marks. She married him right out of high school,
and thinks the twenty grand she’s squirreled away in a box is going
to be enough to pay my fees and give her and her kids a nice
start.”
Sam was normally super-conscious of
respecting her clients’ privacy, and Ethan brushed his hand across
her back and pulled her towards him. “You’re telling me more than
you’re supposed to.” As much as he wanted to hear what she had to
say, he didn’t want her to feel guilty later for telling him more
than she should.
“I know, but…” Ethan let her go as she
pushed away and restarted the microwave. “I trust you, and if I
don’t talk about this…” She shook her head, unwilling to finish the
sentence.
Sam leaned forward onto the marble counter,
her back to Ethan as she braced herself with her palms flat, as if
making a conscious decision to keep from balling them into fists.
Ethan knew she was using a trick to fool her body into releasing
calming hormones, instead of the fight-or-flight hormones, and made
a mental note of how hard she was working to maintain control.
“This woman’s situation bothers me, and I
can’t shake it off like I usually do. Maybe it was the x-rays, or
the haunted look in her eyes, or, I don’t know. I find myself as
angry with her as I am with her asshole of a husband.” Her fingers
curled in, and she pushed down with her arms and her fingers slid
back out, straight. “Tom doesn’t know any details, but he said he
thought something had resonated with me, and that was why I’d lost
control.” She shook her head. “He’s usually right about that sort
of thing, but I have no idea why this case has me so emotional. I
haven’t carried this much frustration out of the office since I was
fresh out of law school.”
Ethan decided he’d given her all the time to
work through it without him that he was willing to give. He stepped
to her and barely touched her ribs, giving more of a suggestion she
should turn than an order.
Sam rotated towards him and Ethan pulled her
to him and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then her
lips. He started slow, with a soft peck, and when she didn’t pull
away he bent back down for a longer kiss. Sometimes she needed his
overbearing caveman approach, other times she needed a partner who
understood her emotions.
When he finally felt her
body relax and flow towards him, he put his hand to the back of her
head, tilted it back, and pressed her mouth open with his —
capturing, invading, possessing her with the kiss.
When Ethan finally let her up, he noted her
quickened breath and flushed cheeks, but was careful not to look
too cocky as he kissed her forehead and turned to retrieve the
fudge syrup from the microwave.
He let her find her equilibrium as he
spooned the hot fudge over their bowls of ice cream, and then
grinned at her as he pulled a can of whipped cream from the grocery
store bag.
Her happy smile as he dispensed the whipped
cream told him he’d done well, and he gave her his cockiest smile
as he pulled a jar from his bag and topped her bowl with three
shiny red cherries.
Sam blew him a happy kiss as she accepted
the bowl, and he watched her ass as she made her way to the den.
Her steps were quick and light once again, and he was delighted
he’d been able to help pull her out of her funk.
When he made it to the den with his own
bowl, she was sitting in the middle of the sofa with her legs
crisscross and her bowl balanced on a large pillow in her lap.
Ethan watched as she arranged cold ice
cream, hot fudge, and a little whipped cream on her spoon in
preparation for her
companionable silence as Ethan gave her time to figure out what to
say.
“I’ll let you read the public stuff once I
get it together, but this one has years of abuse.” She pulled the
microwave open with a little more muscle than necessary, but
stirred the topping without showing her agitation. “Broken bones,
black eyes, belt marks. She married him right out of high school,
and thinks the twenty grand she’s squirreled away in a box is going
to be enough to pay my fees and give her and her kids a nice
start.”
Sam was normally super-conscious of
respecting her clients’ privacy, and Ethan brushed his hand across
her back and pulled her towards him. “You’re telling me more than
you’re supposed to.” As much as he wanted to hear what she had to
say, he didn’t want her to feel guilty later for telling him more
than she should.
“I know, but…” Ethan let her go as she
pushed away and restarted the microwave. “I trust you, and if I
don’t talk about this…” She shook her head, unwilling to finish the
sentence.
Sam leaned forward onto the marble counter,
her back to Ethan as she braced herself with her palms flat, as if
making a conscious decision to keep from balling them into fists.
Ethan knew she was using a trick to fool her body into releasing
calming hormones, instead of the fight-or-flight hormones, and made
a mental note of how hard she was working to maintain control.
“This woman’s situation bothers me, and I
can’t shake it off like I usually do. Maybe it was the x-rays, or
the haunted look in her eyes, or, I don’t know. I find myself as
angry with her as I am with her asshole of a husband.” Her fingers
curled in, and she pushed down with her arms and her fingers slid
back out, straight. “Tom doesn’t know any details, but he said he
thought something had resonated with me, and that was why I’d lost
control.” She shook her head. “He’s usually right about that sort
of thing, but I have no idea why this case has me so emotional. I
haven’t carried this much frustration out of the office since I was
fresh out of law school.”
Ethan decided he’d given her all the time to
work through it without him that he was willing to give. He stepped
to her and barely touched her ribs, giving more of a suggestion she
should turn than an order.
Sam rotated towards him and Ethan pulled her
to him and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and then her
lips. He started slow, with a soft peck, and when she didn’t pull
away he bent back down for a longer kiss. Sometimes she needed his
overbearing caveman approach, other times she needed a partner who
understood her emotions.
When he finally felt her
body relax and flow towards him, he put his hand to the back of her
head, tilted it back, and pressed her mouth open with his —
capturing, invading, possessing her with the kiss.
When Ethan finally let her up, he noted her
quickened breath and flushed cheeks, but was careful not to look
too cocky as he kissed her forehead and turned to retrieve the
fudge syrup from the microwave.
He let her find her equilibrium as he
spooned the hot fudge over their bowls of ice cream, and then
grinned at her as he pulled a can of whipped cream from the grocery
store bag.
Her happy smile as he dispensed the whipped
cream told him he’d done well, and he gave her his cockiest smile
as he pulled a jar from his bag and topped her bowl with three
shiny red cherries.
Sam blew him a happy kiss as she accepted
the bowl, and he watched her ass as she made her way to the den.
Her steps were quick and light once again, and he was delighted
he’d been able to help pull her out of her funk.
When he made it to the den with his own
bowl, she was sitting in the middle of the sofa with her legs
crisscross and her bowl balanced on a large pillow in her lap.
Ethan watched as she arranged cold ice
cream, hot fudge, and a little whipped cream on her spoon in
preparation for her
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