Icebreaker (19 page)

Authors: Deirdre Martin

Tags: #Women lawyers, #Contemporary, #Legal, #General, #Romance, #Hockey players, #Fiction

BOOK: Icebreaker

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He was so
quiet at first, Sinead didn’t know what to think. She was cuddled in his arms, drowsing in and out of that lovely postsex haze that she’d almost forgotten existed. She assumed his silence was one of happy satiation. But the longer it went on, the more she began to worry.

“Adam?”

“Mmm?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, fine.” He squeezed her. “Why?”

“You’re just so quiet.” She felt a tiny prick of anxiety. “You’re not thinking you made a mistake, are you?”

Adam opened his eyes, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. “You’re joking, right?”

“I don’t know. I feel like you finally opened up to me, and now you’re retreating somehow.”

Adam kissed her forehead. “You’re wrong. I’m just relaxing. Riding the inner tube, as Ray used to say.” He peered at her curiously. “Why? Are you used to guys who are chatty after sex?”

“Not guys, guy. I’ve only ever been with Chip before this, and yes, he was quite the postsex yakker.”

Adam looked dubious. “What did he yak about?”

“Himself, mostly.”

“Figures.” He caressed her hair. “I’m sorry. Generally I don’t say anything if I don’t think anything needs to be said.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Sinead said. “I just want to make sure that now that we’ve taken this step, you’re not going to dump me after one night.”

“I’m not going to dump you. To be honest, I thought you might dump me.”

Sinead was taken aback. “Why’s that?”

“I get the sense I’m not the type of guy you usually socialize with. I don’t know that a hockey player from western Canada fits in with your social scene.”

“First of all, I don’t have a social scene. Secondly, do I seem like a one-night stand kind of woman?”

Adam kissed her shoulder. “Nope.”

One-night stand . . . “You know, if my partners find out I’m seeing a client, I’m dead. It’s considered very unprofessional—except when they do it.”

“Jerks. You know where I wish we were right now?”

“Where?”

“In a cabin in the country.”

“I have a country house, you know,” Sinead revealed.

“You do?”

“Yeah, in Bearsville, about two hours north of the city. I haven’t been there for a while.”

“Why don’t you go there more often?”

“I have no life outside of work.” She paused. “I’m a workaholic, Adam.”

Adam feigned surprise. “Really? I never would have guessed. I am, too, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I have.”
Which is good,
Sinead thought.
It will ensure things don’t get too serious, too fast. If they even get serious, which they might not. Unless—oh, shut up, please.

“Maybe we could go away for a weekend at your house sometime,” Adam suggested.

“That would be nice.” Sinead pictured them taking walks together. She’d relearn how to cook. She wouldn’t bring her laptop. She’d sleep well.

“How’s the hunting up there?”

Sinead sat up, staring at him in horror.
“What?”

Adam looked dismayed. “Let me guess: you think hunting is horrible.”

“It is horrible!”

“We just ate a chicken, right?”

Sinead felt cornered; she could see where this was going. “So?”

“Have you ever seen how chickens are raised? At least the deer are in the wild! They aren’t being treated like shit at factories, pumped full of hormones, raised in horrible conditions before they die!”

“But it’s awful to kill animals for sport!”

“It’s not just for sport. If I catch any fish, we’ll eat them.”

“And if you kill a deer?”

“I’ll gut it, dress it, and grill us some venison. Plus I can saw off the legs and make myself a nice gun rack.”

Sinead blanched.

“That was a joke, Sinead.”

“Thank
God
. Adam, I don’t know about your coming up there to hunt.” She hated when she was at her house during deer season and she’d wake to the sound of gunfire echoing off the hills. “Maybe the first time we go up to the house together, you could bypass killing things?”

“Fine.” He looked at her affectionately. “No one could ever accuse you of being tepid in your views, that’s for sure.”

Sinead lay back down, covering her face with her hands in disbelief. “I can’t believe our first postsex discussion was about deer hunting.”

Adam gently pulled her hands from her face. “We can talk about
The Three Stooges
if you want.”

Sinead couldn’t help but smile. “You’re pretty funny.” “For a bonehead.”

Adam looked tender as he gathered her into his arms. “Why don’t we try to get some sleep? I’ve got practice tomorrow morning—”

“And I’ve got tons of work to do.” She ran her index finger down his cheek. “I’ve crossed a line here, you know. I vowed I would never get involved with a client. That I’d never be like
them
.”

“It’s no one’s business.”

“Technically that’s true, but—”

“Earth to Sinead: we just made passionate love, and you’re back to talking about work.”

“God, you’re right. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” Adam kissed her forehead. “Thanks for a wonderful night.”

“Thank
you
, Mr. Perry.” Sinead was filled with joy and a little bit of confusion. She kept the latter at bay for now, concentrating instead on the moment and the sheer rightness of being in Adam’s arms
.
She was remembering what it was like to live a full life, and she was happy.

Sinead chuckled as
she walked into her parents’ bar to meet Oliver, trying to ignore the knowing smirk on his face as she slid into the booth opposite him.

“Oooh, look at you: smile on your face, cheeks all aglow—you got some sugar last night, didn’t you?” His observation made her apprehensive. Was there really something different about her appearance now that she was dating Adam? If so, what did that say about her previous demeanor?

“Good evening to you, too, Oliver.”

“Avoidance. Means the answer is yes,” said Oliver, waving crazily for Christie to come over to their table.

“It’s not avoidance. It means I’m sitting in my parents’ pub, starving. Can I at least have some dinner before you start cross-examining me?”

“Fair enough.”

“Thank you.”

Sinead took a sip of water, turning around to scan the back of the dining room so Oliver couldn’t see the big, goofy grin on her face. She and Adam had gotten up extra early to make love before they both went to work, and it was lovely, languid, and slow. Sinead was worried they might drift back to sleep afterward, but then realized that was impossible. This was her and Adam, the two most conscientious people in the world. Despite their glorious dawn tumble, they were both up and out the door when they had to be. But as the day rolled on, getting up with the sun had taken its toll: Sinead was exhausted, trying to keep herself from constantly yawning.

She turned back to Oliver.

“Well?” he said.

“I want to hear about your weekend first. If you can even remember it.”

“Very funny.” Oliver looked thoughtful. “Well, let’s see. Friday night I went to a lingerie show—”

“What?”

Before Oliver could explain, Christie came over to the table, plunking down a glass of scotch in front of him. “I take it this is what you want?”

Oliver flashed a seductive smile. “It’s one of the things I want, yes.”

“God, Oliver,” said Sinead, embarrassed to be friends with him.

“How did last night go?” Oliver continued, his eyes indiscreetly sweeping Christie’s body. “Put out any raging fires?”

“Nope.”

Oliver fixed her with what Sinead supposed was his “smoky, seductive” look. “Well, I know one—”

“Bye, Oliver,” Christie said, walking away.

Oliver jumped right back into his story.

“Okay, so you know that Swedish supermodel, Dani?”

Sinead braced herself. “Oh, no.”

Oliver broke into a big Cheshire cat smile. “Oh, yes. I met her at a cocktail party last week, and she invited me to come to the lingerie show she was modeling in. How could I refuse?”

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Thoroughly—both during and after.”

Sinead sighed. “Go on.”

“We got to know each other a bit,” Oliver said smugly, “if you catch my drift. She wanted to spend all day with me yesterday, but I said, ‘Sorry, honey, places to go, people to see.’ I think she’s falling for me, hard.”

“Yeah, right.
Anyway
.”

“Spent yesterday pretty much sleeping; the little minx plumb wore me out.”

Sinead groaned.
“Oliver.”

“Slept, went out for a late lunch, and then last night, me and the boys—”

“What boys?”

“A few of my friends from Yale—went and shot guns at this basement shooting gallery in NoHo. It was awesome. Ever shoot a gun, Sinead?”

“No, and I never will.” Sinead gave a small shudder. “Adam has.”

“Oh yeah?” Oliver looked intrigued. “You gonna tell Uncle Ollie about hockey boy, or what?”

“Finish.”

“Nothing more to say. We shot guns, we went out and drank shots, and then I was a good boy and went home because like you, I needed to be at the office this morning to do some work. Your turn. Did you shtup him?”

Sinead shook her head in disbelief. “You are so crude.”

“Cut the prim act and spill.”

Sinead took another sip of water. “Well, you know Adam and I have been sort of dancing around the issue of our attraction.”

“More like avoiding, but go on.”

“We wound up having dinner one night last week—purely professional. He had some things to give me that will help the case. But then it got personal.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up. “Lip-locking?”

“Yes.”

“What base did you get to?”

Sinead scowled. “Could we not talk about this like we’re in eighth grade?”

“If you insist.”

“I told him I’d call him, and I did. I wound up inviting him over for dinner last night.”

“Pretty bold move for you.”

“I know.”

“You’ve never invited me over for dinner,” Oliver said with a pout.

“You’ve never invited me over for dinner, either.”

“True.” Oliver’s eyes flashed eagerly. “Continue.”

Sinead suddenly felt shy. “We had a nice dinner and things turned romantic and well, you know . . .”

“Hot monkey sex.”

“I hate you. I really do.”

“Bess, is you his woman now?”

“Yes, I mean we’re going to take it slow. I think. We didn’t really talk about it.”

Oliver took a sip of his scotch. He savored it for a moment, and then threw the rest of the drink down his throat in one gulp. “May I make an observation?”

“You will anyway, so there’s no point in saying no.”

“You look really happy, Sinead. Happier than I’ve seen you in years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Sinead pressed her lips together. “I am happy, but . . .”

“Ah, the buts. Who would you be without your buts?”

“Let me finish,” Sinead said, annoyed.

“Go on.”

“Well, there’s the whole ‘I’m his attorney’ thing. I mean, it does feel weird to me.”

“Does it feel weird to him?”

“He hasn’t said so.”

“So quit worrying. You’ll get wrinkles. This could be the one, sweet pea. Go wherever it leads.”