ATTENTION: THE AUTHOR IS POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER ON MAY 5. TO THANK ALL THOSE WHO HAVE READ HER STORY, SHE IS ALLOWING THE ENTIRE STORY TO BE PUBLISHED UNTIL MAY 22.
THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. THE SCANNING, UPLOADING, AND DISTRIBUTION OF THIS BOOK VIA THE INTERNET OR VIA ANY OTHER MEANS WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER IS ILLEGAL AND PUNISHABLE BY LAW.
ROBIN FILLED HIS MUG WITH the fresh pot of coffee that finished brewing moments before he stepped in the common room. The steam filled the air and the fresh aroma of coffee filled his senses and made him yearn for it. To his luck, he didn't have to drink the slug that sat around for hours after lunch. His day wasn't starting off so hot.
His statements in court had been stressful, his client hadn't shown up, he'd muddled his way through by the skin of his teeth, he mused. The judge wasn't happy and wasn't shy about letting him know it.
He added sugar and cream, stirred, and drank deep. It's Thursday, he reminded himself. The weekend was in sight.
Maggie walked in with a folder under her arm and filled her mug. "Rough morning?"
"You could say that," he said. "Norbert is a hardass."
"Yea, he is." Her eyes narrowed, "It's actually kind of perfect that I ran into you. I want to talk to you about Regina."
An itch between his shoulder blades irritated him. Maggie made him nervous and he knew she'd corner him at some point. Taking a gulp of coffee, he prayed this wouldn't be too painful. "Alright."
She intentionally went to the door and nudged it closed. "I want you to be careful with her," she said with a much softer voice than the stern one she usually used. "I'm worried about her. She's quiet, and when she's quiet, it usually means something bad."
"What does her being quiet have to do with me?" His stomach was jittery, he set his mug down with unsteady hands. To hide it, he slid them in his pockets.
"I know it's none of my business, but I know what I know," she said.
"What would that be?" The jittery feeling became a hard knot.
"I've seen the way you are together, the looks. You're sleeping with her, aren't you?" She crossed her arms.
Maggie looked frustrated by her revelation and he wouldn't dignify it by bringing Regina into this. "What is or isn't going on between a man and a woman should stay that way. It's not office gossip," he said stiffly.
"She's my best friend, Robin. I care about her and I don't want to see her hurt." The fear in her eyes had him reaching out to take her hand in comfort. It seemed like she needed the contact.
"I'm not gonna hurt her," he said. "Not intentionally. I respect her as a lawyer and more as a person. Anything beyond that isn't in me to discuss," he said trying to protect his privacy.
He wanted to hold onto the intimate moments he shared with Regina. Call it greed, he thought. It was theirs and he wasn't about to share any of it. It didn't matter to him that Maggie was her best friend. It eased him a little that Regina hadn't shared any of it either.
Their eyes met and she was considering him, he mused. Watching him for clues or for whatever flaws she could find, maybe. "You care about her," she said.
"Of course, I do."
"How much? Do you know what kind of past she's had? What kind of pain is buried there? I don't want you to live out this fantasy and leave her in the dust, not that I think you would. If you're not serious about her, I'd tread carefully," she said.
"Regina's a grown woman, she makes her own decisions," he insisted.
"Sometimes her decisions hurt her and those who care about her."
Releasing her hand and pacing the room, he sighed, "I know what pain is, I know how it eats at you. I don't intend to add to hers. Happy?"
"No," she said. "I'm reserving judgment."
"You're a hard woman, Maggie. Harder than you look," he said stopping to stare at her.
"Only when I have to be and when I'm protecting the ones I love," she said.
Without thinking, the words that tumbled out of his mouth shocked him to the core and stole his breath. "I love her too."
Maggie stood stunned. He felt his heart pounding in his ears, his palms were sweaty, and he felt the coffee heavy in his belly. It was a distinct possibility he could empty it right about now. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, fear lodged there. A bone-deep fear.
Love? The last time he'd let those feelings seep into him, he'd been crushed. It wasn't about comparing Regina to Greta. It was about comparing himself to the man he was to the man he is. Despite working with Regina for a couple of months, he'd barely gotten started with showing her the proper affection.
He had to be crazy to believe that he was in love with her, he decided. It was infatuation, he tried to convince himself. She was a beautiful woman, smart, sexy. As he started thinking about her amiable qualities and the things that he liked about her, he started to feel sick.
"I'm not sure who was more stunned, me or you," she said. Unable to process what was happening, she stepped to him and wrapped her arms around him. "You surprise me, Robin."
"I think I need to sit down," he said feeling dizzy. He met her eyes and stepped back two steps and down into a chair. "You repeat that, and I'll have to hurt you," he warned.
"I think you need some time to think about it and so do I." She walked to the door, paused, and turned back, "For what it's worth, if that's true, I'm rooting for you."
Still dizzy he didn't respond, she opened the door and walked out. Alone, he put his head to the table and closed his eyes.
REGINA SAT AT HER DESK typing up her case notes from the last few days. She'd been in and out on deposition cases, reports to the judge, and a follow up with Emma Swan. The case was dropped, and she was no longer in debt to her landlord. Her housing application had gone through and in a matter of two months, she'd be moving Henry to a new home.
For three hours, she worked and tried to keep her mind off the fact that Robin had distanced himself. He'd worked with her, made sure the Mixer plans were secure, and he'd slipped out of the room more than usual. He avoided eye contact with her and smiled when their eyes met briefly.
She wasn't sure if it was because he'd wanted to show her that he cared, or if there was something else going on. Fearful and unsure, she kept her silence. There was no way she was going to be clingy and needy. If he wanted to spend time with her, or talk to her, he'd say so. Until then, she'd work.
He kissed her often when he'd leave for court, a meeting, or to meet with another attorney. He kissed her when she left and when she came back. It all seemed strange, but again, she didn't comment. In fact, she'd decided to turn inward. They talked about cases, he asked her about Mueller and what she had planned. Usual banter between them, so she suppressed the gnawing feeling in her gut.
But this afternoon, she'd watched him at his desk seemingly in thought. When he raised his head to meet her gaze, something came into his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, she didn't want to know. Based on that look, it wasn't good. Averting her eyes, she took a deep breath, and was thankful when her phone rang.
Picking up, she said, "Regina Mills."
Gold's voice came over the line, "Mueller postponed the meeting. He won't be here tomorrow. It looks like he has cold feet."
Closing her eyes, she hung her head, "What now?"
"We only have one choice, you have to dazzle him at the Mixer. You better get working on that speech."
"Stan, what if—"
"Regina don't worry about your fear of speaking. At this point, you have no choice. This is the case of a lifetime and if you don't come through, it'll slip through your fingers."
"I know. I'll come up with something," she said. "Did he have an explanation?"
"That's between us, but yes he did. It all comes to the choices his son is making. It's not an easy thing for them to deal with as a family. They're opening themselves up for potential scandals and rumors. I'd say, he needs a lawyer he can trust. One that will work for him and that will work to get him. He's dangling the line, you need to bite."
"I plan to," she said determinedly. "Thanks for letting me know."
When she set the phone in the cradle, she tapped her fingers on it. Defeated, she picked up the Mueller file on her desk and slid it into the bottom drawer next to her.
"Mueller postponed," she said.
"I heard and figured it out. Are you alright?"
Not looking at him, she didn't know how to answer that. Was she alright? Let's see, she thought. The biggest case she's ever wanted was just out of reach. It felt like someone was dangling meat at the opening to a lion's den and she could smell the blood. Maggie was pissed at her for not answering her phone and was giving her the silent treatment.
He was acting strangely, and she was starting to get a complex about it. Her stomach was empty, she hadn't had enough coffee, and she was pissed for wasting all that time preparing for meeting with Mueller. Hours, she thought. Pouring over files, sacrificing time with other clients, and peace of mind.
The only words she could think to say were, "I guess. I'll have to figure out this speech and knock their socks off. If I don't, well then, I'll pack up and go home. Gold pretty much told me that, not those exact words, but in a way that I know he meant it."
"I told you, I'd help you with that," he smiled. "Why don't we go to dinner? I want to take you out."
She turned to meet his gaze for the first time in hours, "Out?"
"Sure, you know an official date. As opposed to work lunches, weekend movie nights, and office kisses." To her mind, none of those counted as a date. Sure, they'd gone to lunch plenty of times when they were working. The weekend movie night had been for creating centerpieces and he'd pushed the movie. As far as office kisses, or more than kisses, they didn't come into her radar as date-like.
"Let me take you out," he insisted. "After work, you can go home and put something nice on. I'll shower and I'll pick you up, drive you to a restaurant, we'll eat food. I'll ask you to dance, if the opportunity arises, and I'll kiss you goodnight." He winked, "At your door. I'll go home and think about having sex with you before I fall asleep."
She swallowed, "You want to take me out on a date." Why did the idea of that sound so strange? So weird? "Alright," she agreed hesitantly.
"Good. That's settled. Tomorrow night, we'll sit and write that speech." He turned back to his computer. "I've got some work yet. Let's give it another hour or so before we head out."
THE TABLE WAS SECLUDED BY THE L-shaped booth that faced away from the room. The fabric was red like her dress, pillows, those damn pillows, were on each end in white. The table was draped with a cloth and he was thankful for the presentation. He'd taken a risk at bringing her here on a weeknight. To his luck, there had been an open table.
His mind had been wandering and digesting the conversation he'd had with Maggie earlier in the day. He'd been struggling to figure out whether the words he'd said were the truth, or just a knee gut response to her badgering. He'd come to the realization that he didn't really say what he didn't mean. It was usually a policy of his.
Knowing that he was indeed in love with her and on the way to being completely in love, it terrified him. Mostly because he wasn't sure what he wanted to do about it. If anything, he wasn't going to utter it out loud. If he did, he'd embarrass them both.
They'd ordered wine, appetizers, and their meals. They talked about nothing in particular and enjoyed each other's company. This was what he liked about spending time with her. It was easy, effortless. With Greta, he'd had to impress her, work hard to gain her attention, and change it up often enough to keep her interest.
Regina was soft, conversational, and he loved being near her. They shared a certain intimacy he couldn't remember ever sharing with anyone else. They touched subtly by taking the other's hand, he rested his hand on her thigh. It was nice not to have to calculate every move he made. To not have to analyze moves she made and wonder whether there was something behind it.
Mid-way through their meal, he brought up the speech. "Tell me about the first time your mom made you talk to a crowd."
She settled back, crossed her legs, and sipped her wine. It was beautiful to see her so relaxed. "I was thirteen and she decided to run for senator. I don't know why because she didn't have enough backing to make it happen. But she dragged me to a party, I hated it. I had to follow her around with my father close behind. Without warning me, she walked me up to a group of journalists."
"What happened?" He sat back and nuzzled closer.
"They started asking questions about my mother, what kind of hard worker she was, what kind of mother. I froze. I didn't know what to say. I ran into the bathroom and threw up. I was so embarrassed," she shook her head.
He tried to imagine her that young, "It's hard to picture."
With a chuckle, she asked, "What? Me at thirteen or embarrassed?"
"Both," he said honestly. "You seem so put together all the time. Plus, it's hard to see you at that age."
"I was skinny and not quite grown into my face," she said. "I had an awful haircut, braces, and I was painfully shy."
"You?" He turned to laugh, "Shy?" Rolling his eyes, "Hard to wonder where you'd get that," he joked. It wasn't at all hard to see her being shy. Quiet was only part of it, he could see it when they were in groups of people. She usually stood off to the side and only interacted with people when they initiated.
"I'm not shy anymore, well, not very much," she said putting her glass down. "I'm just not as social as some people. Maggie helps me get out of my head."
Thinking of Maggie only made his chest tighten. He didn't want to think about it, so he asked, "How?"
As she answered, he slid his hand into hers and linked their fingers. "Well, the book club for one. We meet at the library on Baxter. There are twelve of us and I enjoy talking to them. When I first starting meeting with them, it was awkward. Now, every month, we meet and it's fun."
"Sounds like it. David and I grab a beer every week. I have a buddy of mine, John. He's planning on coming down for the Mixer. I want you to meet him," he said.
"Oh?"
Meeting her eyes, he smiled, "He's my best mate and I may have told him about you."
Her cheeks flushed, "What exactly did you tell him?"
He squeezed her hand and her eyes moved back to his, "I only told him about our working relationship and that you're incredibly hot."
Shoving him playfully, she shook her head, "You did not."
"I did tell him that on my first day here, but he's convinced that he has to see you for himself," he said with a smirk. "Don't worry, I'm not a locker room type of guy."
Her mouth opened and closed. He wondered if she was worried that he'd talk about them. It wouldn't be the first time. To reassure her, he said, "What's between us is ours. I'm not sharing you." He leaned over and kissed her. "Too bad I couldn't ask you to dance," he said.
"I don't dance," she said. "And I appreciate you keeping this to yourself. I just…" She held his hand firmly and rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm not ready to talk about it with anyone." He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her. The restaurant was dimly lighted, her feet were bare, she'd slipped her black heels under the table.
Music played softly through the speakers, he did good, he mused. It was the perfect first date. He figured it was as good as it could be. Having her by his side, his belly full, his mind at ease, he lifted her chin with his fingers. She smiled as he covered her mouth with his. A smooth and firm kiss.
His heart pounded in his chest, his nerves worked under his skin. He wanted a lot more and it terrified him. When he lifted his head, he said, "It's between us and it'll stay that way unless you decide," he promised. "It's late, I want to take you somewhere," he said.
She leaned in and touched her lips to his, "Thanks for dinner."
They walked along Cactus Quarry, an area of town where they decorated for the holidays and put on local shows. Hand in hand, they walked in and out of shops, he bought her fresh fudge in his favorite bakery. They watched a guitarist play a song, kissed under the stars.
As promised, he'd asked her to dance, didn't feel the least bit silly with no one else was dancing, then drove her home. "I had a really good time," she said. "If this is dating Robin Locksley, I'm gonna get spoiled."
He laughed as he helped her out of the car, "I'll keep that in mind." She took his hand and he walked her through the apartment grounds and to her door. "I'll see you in the morning. I have court first thing, maybe we can grab lunch at Granny's."
"Okay," she said pulling her keys out of her purse. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said framing her face in his hands. He kissed her long and slow, felt his heart roll in his chest. God, she was stunning. It was hard not to feel the things he was feeling. Before he screwed up and said anything out loud, he lifted his head. "Sweet dreams," he said brushing his nose to hers.
He slid his hands in his pockets as she put her eyes in the door and opened it. When she was inside, he turned to go. "Robin?"
He turned mid-step, "Yea?"
"You remember how I said I don't invite people into my apartment?" She had a teasing smile on her face.
"I do," he said hesitantly.
She paused dramatically, it felt like forever before she spoke again. "Would you like to come in?" She grinned and his whole body seemed to light on fire.
Taking the few steps to her, he wrapped around her and indulged in a hot steamy kiss. When he released her, he said, "I said, I'd think about having sex with you. I'll do just that when I'm home. Good night," he said and turned to go.
Glancing over his shoulder, she smiled and closed the door. He grinned all the way home. He was hopelessly in love with her. It was crystal clear now. What the hell was he going to do about it? He had no idea.