“I think I like the idea of children more than I’d like the reality,” she continued. “I know I don’t have to be a mother to lead a fulfilling life. But I think a part of me will always be curious as to what things might have been like, if I could have gotten pregnant. Kind of like the way I wonder how things would have ended up if I’d chosen to be a doctor or a writer or a chef instead of a lawyer.”
Seeking to lighten the mood, he decided to tease her a bit. “Those are some wildly diverse career choices.”
She smiled. “They were all on the list when I was a kid. Along with ballerina and cowgirl.”
His brain conjured up an image of her now in a pale pink leotard and tutu, the fabric clinging to her curves. Idiot, he told himself. But it was too late. His imagination had taken off, picturing her dancing, her body moving in front of him as she treated him to a private show. Unfortunately, he knew all too well what she would look like, as she’d once worn a ballerina costume for a Halloween party in law school. He’d barely been able to keep his hands off her at the party, and once they’d gotten home, she hadn’t worn the outfit long enough to treat him to a dance performance.
He shifted in the chair, trying to find a distraction before his body took the mental image and ran with it, all the way to an embarrassing conclusion. “If it’s any consolation, you’re an amazing lawyer.”
She smiled. “You have to say that because I’m helping you.”
Santiago shook his head. “You know that’s not why.”
Ainsley grew serious. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said softly. “Why do you think I called you?”
“Because you knew I’d help?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know that, actually. I hoped you would, but I wasn’t taking anything for granted.”
It hurt to know she hadn’t believed him when he’d told her he’d always be there for her, but could he really blame her? It was the kind of thing people said all the time when they were breaking up with someone. But in his case, he’d truly meant it.
“Well, now you know,” he said. “It wasn’t an empty promise.”
Ainsley nodded, her blue eyes luminous from the glow of the overhead light. “Thank you.”
Her gratitude made Santiago uncomfortable. He didn’t deserve it, for one thing. They were both helping each other, so there was no need for her to feel like she owed him something for taking her brother’s case.
Besides, after the way he’d hurt her five years ago, it was the least he could do.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Please. I don’t deserve your thanks. You’re helping me too, remember?”
She nodded and looked away, breaking the connection between them. “On that note, I’m going to turn in early. It’s been a long day.”
“I understand,” he said. “I think I’m going to do the same. Maybe we can talk about Ace’s case tomorrow, after we’ve both had some rest? I emailed him yesterday. Hopefully he’ll reply soon.”
“That sounds good.” She pushed away from the table and took her now empty cup to the sink. Santiago got to his feet and followed, intending to set his mug on the counter. But just as he reached out, Ainsley turned and moved forward, pulling up short just before she ran into him.
“Oh!” The small sound of surprise escaped on a breath, and she blinked up at him, her cheeks going pink.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“It’s okay,” she replied, her voice low.
They stayed like that, close but not touching, staring into each other’s eyes. What are you doing? his brain demanded. Move!
On some level, Santiago knew he was playing with fire. He should step back, give Ainsley some space and let her walk out of the kitchen. But his feet wouldn’t obey his brain’s commands. Being so close to her stilled the restlessness inside of him, quieting the low-level anxiety that had plagued him ever since they’d started this damn retreat of lies. Logically, he understood this proximity to Ainsley was a bad idea. But emotionally?
He needed her.
Ainsley stared up at him, her eyes large and inviting. He saw no trace of fear, no hint of apprehension in her gaze. She made no move to leave, and it wasn’t because he had her pinned—she was free to step back, to put distance between them.
If that’s what she wanted.
Santiago waited, giving her time to decide. His mind was made up, but he wasn’t going to force himself on her. As he watched her, the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. Any other time, he would have taken that as a clear invitation to kiss her. Now, though? He remained still, giving them both one last chance to walk away.
A smile flitted across her mouth, and she nodded slightly. She reached out and grasped the fabric of his shirt, then tugged gently.
She didn’t have to ask him twice.