Helen Myers - A Man To Count On

E.D. felt another stab that made it all the harder to breathe. “Imagine coming to the realization at this point and position in my career that I don’t know the man anymore. Maybe I never did. What does that say for me as a litigator?”

“I think you should come to the condo. It’s only a few blocks from here.”

Gathering herself, she shook her head enough to encourage him to remove his hand. “Impossible. I have to get back—and you have to stop being so reckless.”

“Determined, not reckless,” he said softly.

E.D. frowned at him. “Dylan, have you had a bad health checkup or something? You’re acting—scary.”

“I’ve never felt more clearheaded in my life.”

She could barely think when he locked those dark blue eyes on hers. “Okay, dare I threaten a gentle censure for some bad timing?”

“You want to hear about timing, Eva Danielle?” Dylan worked her right hand free from the steering wheel to transfer it into his warm grasp. “I’ve been dealing with the results of that for almost twenty years.” He glanced down at her modestly manicured fingernails painted only with clear polish. “I should have followed a gut hunch the moment you extended this hand the night we met.”

Torn between pulling free and tightening her fingers, E.D. all but choked. “Sure. I always have that effect on people. When I got home that night, I found four voice messages from the president, governor and two senators.”

“You didn’t sense I was captivated by you from the moment you welcomed me with that smile?”

“Frankly, no. And my mouth was so dry, it’s a miracle I could speak, while you were kind and patient with everyone who gushed over you.”

Dylan tightened his grasp. “E.D., I was one step away from suggesting we ditch the seminar that night and find a cozy pub booth.”

She wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe it. Oh, she knew he’d admired a smiling blonde but he never could have taken it beyond that. “You had too much professional integrity. Besides, you were engaged to Brenda.”

“And you were seriously dating Trey.”

It was disturbing how easily her husband slipped from her mind when in Dylan’s presence. “Brenda was right for you. She understood how hard you had to work, and had the generosity and willingness to support that.”

“I won’t disagree. She was a lovely person and a good partner.”

“I don’t want to think how my husband is going to describe me in hindsight. I suppose all I can hope for is to never be near him again when holding a sharp object.” She’d aimed for humor—somewhat—and came up unconvincing.

“How do you think Trey conceives your marriage?”

“I—” Honestly hadn’t thought of that in years. E.D. looked at her hand in Dylan’s and gently disengaged herself. “I can’t have this conversation. Not with you, not now.”

“We can’t always get the timing we want, and history has proved we both made decisions based on mitigating circumstances.”

“But I have two children, Dylan, and I need to be focused on them.”

“Agreed. That said, when I turned on the TV yesterday, heard your name, and saw the wolves licking their chops and circling in, I felt things I don’t even have words for yet.”

She risked a great deal to meet his steady gaze and felt it in places long shut down and repressed. “You got me through yesterday. I was fantasizing about sending a personal note once you were confirmed and then burying myself deep in work again. Maybe you should have waited. Maybe you should have let that call be enough.”

“That’s one option. The other is that if you’re going to take one step, you might as well take two.” Dylan bent to place a kiss on the back of her hand. “I’ll stop. Just make me one promise—don’t lock me out?”

E.D. didn’t lock out Dylan, but fate intervened elsewhere and business forced Alyx Carmel to postpone her meeting with E.D. until Friday evening. It was just as well because E.D. already felt run through the wringer by the end of Thursday, and Dylan’s declaration certainly compounded that.

Alyx ultimately invited E.D. for dinner to her home in a posh Austin neighborhood. E.D. brought a bottle of pinot noir that a trusted wine expert in her office had recommended. Because of Alyx’s reputation as a true professional, she was surprised by the invitation to meet away from an office environment. Alyx was notoriously private and no one seemed to know anything about her personal life except that she was single and rejected all personal social invitations. Naturally, that triggered some comments about her sexuality. E.D. didn’t care one iota about that; she had enough of her own concerns to deal with. Then, upon pulling into Alyx’s driveway, she was met by a uniformed cop who stepped from his squad car parked out front. That triggered different concerns.

While the officer didn’t smile, he also didn’t rest his hand on his holstered gun in a way to suggest he thought her a threat. Small gifts, E.D. thought, wondering what was up now.

“ID, ma’am.”

This wasn’t a gated community and Alyx hadn’t warned her of trouble. Wondering if she was about to get back into the evening news again, she reached for her purse. “l’m E. D. Martel… D.A.’s office,” she added because although she’d met many of Austin’s finest in court, she hadn’t yet met this gentleman and wanted to send a signal that they were on the same team. “I have a dinner appointment with Ms. Carmel.”

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