Her delicate throat bobbed as she tipped her face up so she could meet the steely determination in my gaze. “I know that. They are worth the sacrifice.”
Slowly I nodded, voice coming out harder than it should. “They’d better be.”
Wasn’t exactly the type of sacrifice I was eager to make.
Not when I wanted to revisit all those scenes on repeat.
I rocked back on my heels, trying to get some space between us before I shoved my nose against her throat. “Not exactly a fan of kids.”
Surprise had her stepping back. “How’s that?”
I waved at the small house. “Because then they get wrapped up in shit like this.”
Hurt dimmed her features. “You think I ever meant for them to get hurt?”
Old anger simmered in that pit inside me. “Not sure anyone does. It’s all the bad choices people make along the way that get them there.”
She slowly nodded, rubbing her lips together, glancing into the distance as a mini-van drove by.
Without question, I was wounding her.
But she needed to know where I stood.
And that was with distance between us.
I had to do this without emotion. Without caring about her or them. Nothing but the job.
That was what this would be.
Finally, she shifted her attention back to me, something fierce slashing across her face. “I might have begged you yesterday, Ian. I don’t regret it. Not for a second. I’ve always been willing to do whatever it took for my children. To erase the bad choices I’ve made. And I won’t stand here and pretend as if I haven’t made terrible ones. I was responsible from the beginning. Settling when I shouldn’t have. But everything I did was because I wanted the best for them. Because I’ve always loved my children more than anything else.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, seeking distance, too. “And if you’re not willing to fight for that? Believe in that? I will find someone who will.”
“This is just another case, Grace. You can rest assured that I will give it everything I have. Just like I do with every client I represent. I work my ass off for my clients. Not because I am a champion of their cause, but because it’s what they pay me to do.”
With a streak of fiery disappointment, she turned her chin up at me. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?”
“That’s how it has to be. This is going to be hard enough.”
I was already crossing so many lines, I’d left sanity behind. Representing her was like volunteering to stand in the front row of a firing squad.
Wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of this one standing.
Going against Reed Dearborne.
Risking Kenneth flaying me alive for putting the reputation of the firm on the line.
Not to mention the only thing I wanted to do was peel her out of those jeans and sink my dick right back into all that sweet heat.
But I was going to do this. For once in my life, I was going to do something that didn’t benefit me. For once, I was going to do one thing right.
Another nod, and she inhaled a deep breath, the girl plastering neutrality onto her face. “Well, then, Mr. Jacobs. It’s so kind of you to come all the way to my grandmother’s home to take on this case. How do we proceed?”
The breath I took in was steeling. On the name of all things holy, what had I done? “I’m going to need to interview you and your children. Get a history, and then we can formulate a plan.”
My voice dropped, and I angled my head. “You tell me only what you want me to know, do you understand?”
Shame flickered through her eyes.
No question.
She’d taken that money.
Those fat stacks of cash in that bag nothing but a confession.
God, I really was insane.
“I understand,” she whispered.
“Do you?” I murmured.
“Yes.” It was a wisp.
I lifted my chin. “Good. We’d better get started.”
She led me into the modest house that hailed straight out of the eighties and smelled like freshly-baked biscuits.
My mouth watered, and my stomach growled.
Voices rambled from somewhere down a hall, a babbling baby and a boy and the older woman, a little girl butchering the lyrics of an overplayed pop song as she sang over the top of them.
Warmth and peace and complete chaos.
Irritation bubbled in my blood.
“This will probably be the most comfortable.” Grace made an immediate right through an archway that led into a dated kitchen.
There was a worn round table under a window that looked out front.
“Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”
I cleared my throat that was still sporting that meteor. “A water would be nice.”
She gave a tight nod. Tension wound between us, the fact we were trying to be something I was pretty sure we weren’t intended, client and attorney when really, we were kindling and fire.