“I want to fuck you.”
I sit perfectly still, stunned.
Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m breathing right now.
“I can assure you that you will enjoy it.” He says it with such confidence that he believes I will, even though he hardly knows me at all.
“You know what I enjoy, do you?” I should have just said no, and he knows it. One corner of his lips quirks up before lowering back into place.
“I have a pretty good idea. Most women want the same thing… a release. And men are known to be selfish animals in that regard. I can assure you—I am not.” He’s so sure of himself that I actually believe him. And I hate that I do.
Averting my gaze to the food in front of me just so I don’t have to stare at him, I try to think of a reply. I can’t say I have ever had a man proposition me quite like this before. It’s intimidating, and yet it causes something to come alive in me.
“I’m seeing someone,” I blurt out. “So, this is inappropriate.” Gripping my purse in my hand, I stand up, and he does as well. “I have to go, but as I said, papers will be coming your way.”
“And you will be delivering them?” His face is hard from my confession.
“Yes.”
“Good. Think about my other offer.”
I pause, take a deep breath, and choose not to say another word. Just as I go to step past him, he moves into my path.
“It was a pleasure, Cora Ashford. I look forward to our next meeting.” Waving a hand, he steps out of my way and lets me pass him. As I do, I get a hint of his cedar and musk cologne, which is intoxicating.
The moment I step outside, Matty has the car door open, and I climb in without saying a word.
I need to get away from here.
I need to get away from all of this.
“Usual visit, miss?” Matty asks, and I nod my head as he starts driving.
Have I been propositioned by a man before? Sure. But never a man like Arlo Graves.
I’m not even sure what to make of it.
How would it work?
And why would I ever consider it?
I don’t really know the man. Yes, I’ve heard stories, and I do find him very attractive—you would have to be blind not to see how good-looking he is—but a man like him also raises red flags. Things like…
Why is he single at his age?
Does he have commitment issues?
Kinks I should be aware of?
I want to slap myself for giving this more thought than required. I am clearly going to say no. I don’t intend to sleep with him, not only because he’s my client but also because he scares me a little.
And Momma always said, if a man scares you a little… run.
I take in the familiar sign above the entrance as I exit the car. I come here at least once a week, sometimes more, depending on my schedule. Barry, one of the nurses, offers me a wave as I pass him in the hall. When I get to her door, I find her sitting in the rocking chair I purchased for her last month. She requested it, and I, of course, obliged.
My mother has dementia, and it’s progressed to the point that the best way to care for her was to find her a place with round-the-clock professional care. It must be hard for her, so I try as much as possible to make her comfortable, as she would do for me.
“Mom.” She looks my way. Her light-blonde hair looks like it’s seen better days, tied up in a bun on top of her head. Her skin is pale from hardly going outside. She looks more fragile each day.
