Her even gaze met and held his, but there was no forgiveness there. Hell, if he was being honest, she’d been even colder and more distant with him in the last year—since Chris’s death—than she’d ever been.
He’d thought maybe things were improving. Elle had been so concerned for him the day Chris died, dragging his sloppy-drunk ass home before he’d done something colossally stupid. But the rest of the night after that was kind of a haze. He thought maybe he’d kissed her, but hell, he’d been dreaming of her for so long, longing to taste her soft lips, that kiss and the resulting unbelievable make-out session could’ve just been a figment of his imagination. And she sure as shit wasn’t giving him any vibes to the contrary…
“Dinner?” she scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You think dinner is going to make up for nearly losing this case?”
He closed his eyes for a moment on a sigh. “No, Elle. I don’t. I know nothing I can do or say is going to make a difference, but it won’t stop me from trying. I’m sorry as hell. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you believe me.”
Elle’s chin trembled a little as she said, “That son of a bitch Monroe ambushed one of my friends—one of your friends, Gabe. He walked into the diner where you and Chris were eating lunch and shot him three times—just because he was a cop. And Monroe nearly got away with it because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.” She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “Sorry doesn’t cut it.”
Before Gabe could stop her, Elle had taken a few angry strides away, her heels clicking purposefully on the floor in a very clear message that echoed the ramrod straight line of her back and dismissive angle of her chin. But he jogged to catch up and cut in front of her, blocking her path. “Then what will?”
She huffed and gave him an exasperated look. “What?”
“What do I have to do to make it up to you?” he pressed. “We have to work together, Elle. You can’t be mad at me forever.”
“Bet me.” She shouldered her way past him, storming out of the courtroom.
Gabe heaved another sigh and ran a hand over the blond spikes of his high-and-tight before following, determined to win her over and insinuate himself back into her good graces. He just didn’t have any frigging clue how to go about it…
*
Damn Gabe Dawson and his arrogance!
Nothing ever changed.
Well, she had news for Fairfield County’s golden boy. She wasn’t buying what he was selling. And she’d be damned if she was going to be just another notch on Gabe Dawson’s belt. She’d leave that role to the badge bunnies who threw themselves constantly at the handsome deputy.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to recall the night of Chris’s death, when she’d taken him home and had been stupid enough to find herself in his arms in the best make-out session of her life. She could only imagine what it’d be like when he was completely sober. And she had imagined ever since. Often. Which seriously pissed her off.
Elle huffed in disgust as she stormed away from Gabe, not sure if she was angrier with him or with herself. To think she’d ever found him even remotely attractive! Clearly, she’d been just like every other girl who’d been taken in by that sexy smile and those aqua eyes that sparkled with mischief. Thank God she’d come to her senses before things had gone too far.
She’d had a lapse in judgment that night, that was all. And the way he’d been since then just confirmed she’d been right to put the brakes on. So no matter how many dimpled smiles he threw her way, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook for jeopardizing her case because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.
“Elle! Wait up!”
She increased her pace, lifting her chin higher, determined to make it very clear what he could do with his apologies and dinner invitations.
But her pace faltered when she reached the courthouse doors that led out to the steps where reporters were waiting. She hated dealing with the media, hated having to give a statement about her success or failure. Her stomach twisted into knots, and for a brief moment, she entertained the idea of waiting for Gabe to catch up and join her as she addressed the press. He had a way with the public, could charm them all with that confident, commanding air of his that had them all eating out of his hand.
But then she set her jaw and shoved open the doors, determined to meet them all head-on. She’d worked too damned hard to get where she was to hand over the reins because of her distaste for dealing with reporters. She’d never once backed down from a challenge—she sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.