Evening Hours

And he’d been argumentative to boot.

“Son, you’ve definitely chosen the right career,” his mother had told him in her firm but sweet voice. “You’ll make a perfect attorney.”

He had his doubts about the perfect part, but he’d done his best. For the most part, he had never been sorry he’d chosen his profession, although dealing with scum on a daily basis worked on him, especially lately when he had to deal with postpartum women who murdered their kids. Those kinds of cases cut him to the core. Even so, he had to push his personal disgust aside and see that justice was served.

And that was what he intended to do, no matter how repugnant or controversial. He’d nail the “haves” as quickly as he would the “have nots.” Class, gender, finances or the lack thereof made not one whit of difference to him. If someone broke the law, he wouldn’t stop prosecuting until they paid.

Such hard-line tactics had made him a lot of enemies.

It had gained him a few friends, too, or at least he liked to think that. Time, and the election, would prove that one way or the other. In the meantime he’d best attack the stack of folders on top of his desk.

He had just drained his cup when his cell phone rang. After checking the name on the caller ID, he frowned but flipped the lid anyway. “Morning, Julia.”

“Are you at the office?”

“Nope.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

A short silence ensued, followed by a sigh as if his one-syllable answers irritated her. “Is something wrong?”

“No. I’m just moving slow.”

Julia laughed. “That’s a first.”

“Actually, I’m on my way out the door,” he said, even though that wasn’t quite the truth.

“I just wanted to remind you about dinner tonight. Remember, I’ve asked several other couples to join us.”

He winced, having forgotten. “I don’t know, Julia. I—”

“Don’t do this to me, Cutler. Just bear in mind these particular friends can help you politically. They all have deep pockets. Besides, you promised.”

He doubted that, but he must’ve made a commitment of sorts. Damn, but that was the last thing he wanted to do, the last place he wanted to go. “How ’bout I call you later in the day?”

“All right, but call me on my cell. I’ll be out of the office showing houses all day.” Julia paused, then added with emphasis, “I’m counting on you not to let me down.”

“Later, okay? I gotta run.”

Once his cell was back in his pocket, Cutler picked up his cup and stared at the empty bottom. He tried to come up with a viable excuse to skip tonight even though his conscience pricked him. He’d much rather be working, which was not a good sign.

When it came to women, he needed to be more social. The old adage was true: all work and no play made for a dull guy. He didn’t think he was in the dull arena yet, but he was getting close despite Julia’s efforts to the contrary. Maybe he should bow out of that relationship, take a breather, so as not to give her hope that wasn’t there.

If the invitation had come from Kaylee Benton, he wouldn’t have hesitated to jump at her beck and call. He had never met a woman he wanted immediately. But he wanted Kaylee. That was an emotion he hadn’t felt in several years. She had stirred the banked-down fire in his loins, made him hungry for a woman’s touch, made him hungry to be inside her.

He’d never married, much to his mother’s disappointment. Since he was an only child, she had no one else to look to for grandchildren. While he’d rather do most anything than disappoint her, he simply hadn’t been able to make that commitment. When a woman interfered with his job, he cut her loose.

Kaylee seemed much the same. A match made in heaven. A smile crossed Cutler’s lips. She had looked so soft, so delicate, so much a woman, and he desperately wanted to get to know her better. He sensed she felt the same way, although she had turned down his invitation to dinner.

He wasn’t giving up, though. He wouldn’t have tagged her as a woman who played coy, but he couldn’t rule that out. Not yet, anyway. Whatever obstacle held her back, he’d bet it had something to do with those sad eyes, and he wanted to overcome it.

The bottom line was he wanted her and he intended to have her.

His cell phone rang again. “Damn,” he muttered as he stood. Without looking at the caller ID, he said, “McFarland.”

“Son?”

“Hi, Dad, what’s up?”

“It’s your mother.”

It wasn’t so much what Trevor said, but the tone he used. Hair stood up on the back of Cutler’s neck. “What about her?”

“She’s sick. I need to call the doctor, only she won’t let me.”

Swallowing his panic, Cutler said, “Call the damn doctor. I’m on my way.”

Six

Drew Rush stared at the blonde’s creamy white rear exposed to his view.

“Cover yourself,” he said in a harsh tone.

Jill Jay rolled over and stared at him through wide, wary eyes. “You’re not coming back to bed?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

Her wariness turned to fear, and she bolted upright. “Uh, sorry.”

“If you do like you’re told, you never have to be sorry.” Though he never raised his voice, it sounded chilling even to his own ears. “How many times do I have to tell you that?” A cold smile accompanied that question.

Her lower lip shook. “No more. I promise.”

“I hope not. Get your clothes on and get out.”

She scrambled off the bed and within ten minutes was gone, leaving him to ready himself for a long and hopefully profitable day. While he’d had a good time with Jill, he didn’t care if he ever saw her again.

His stable was too full of women to ride the same horse more than once. Variety was what kept him young and pumped, despite his sixty-plus years. He didn’t feel old, and he never wanted to act it. He didn’t have to use Viagra, a fact that made him feel like a real stud since so many of his cronies talked about using the drug. They bragged about how wonderful it was, but Drew just saw it as a weakness that was abhorrent.

He had it made with women, just as he did in every other aspect of his life. He was one fortunate bastard who had no one to thank but himself.

Drew was still patting himself on the back when he entered his office some thirty minutes later. Edgar Benton was waiting for him.

“How long have you been here?”

Edgar’s normally pale face showed no reaction. “Not long. Just thought I’d hang around to see if you have some last-minute instructions.”