I square my shoulders. “Why? Because I could’ve been a fortune-teller instead?”
He laughs. “No, baby. Somehow, I can’t see you doing that. I’m just wondering what makes a hot, talented woman like you go into such a rigid occupation.”
He means I’m too uptight. I touch my tangled waves, wanting the security of my usual French twist. “I work with kids in the system, getting them out of bad situations.”
“Isn’t that pro bono stuff?”
“Almost,” I admit. “I’m lucky I got scholarships for law school, otherwise I couldn’t afford my student loans and rent.”
“I didn’t know you were such a humanitarian type.”
“Yep. Foxfire calls me a bleeding heart liberal. But I want to give back, and if I can help these kids navigate the system, save them from what I-” I stop short. I didn’t mean to tell him about that.
“Save them…” Garrett prompts when I don’t go on. “What were you going to say?”
I set down the rest of my second street taco. Should I tell him? “I was in the system.” I swallow a lump in my throat. “Foster care, from the time I was six.”
His fingers wrap into fists, jaw sets tight. He looks one part sick, one part furious. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Easy, Hulk.”
He exhales a measured breath and stands up.
I watch him walk around the table and plunk down on the concrete bench beside me, straddling it.
He reaches for me, using one giant paw to swivel my knees in his direction, turning me in my seat. Leaving his hand on my knee, he cups my nape with the other. His brow knits with concern. “You okay?” His voice is gruff, like he’s going to go back in time and kick the ass of anyone who hurt me in my past.
“Yeah.” I let out a shaky breath. I can’t believe I told him. It violates my number one rule for keeping Crazy Amber under wraps. It took Foxfire years of prying to get it out of me. “Foster care saved me, but it wasn’t easy. I tried my best to act normal, but I kept getting sent back because they thought I was crazy. You know, because of the…”
“The visions?”
“Yeah. My last set of foster parents thought I had a drug problem.” I shake my head. “They spent years trying to medicate me.”
“Did it help?”
“No. It made me feel worse. But they meant well. And my life in foster care was so much better than the alternative.”
“So, now you work with kids, making sure they get the life they deserve.” His eyes are the deepest blue, filled with understanding. I don’t want to accept it, but it feels so damn good.
“Yes.” I’m grateful he changed the subject back to work. Work is safe. I launch into a long explanation of my state job as child’s attorney, representing kids in the foster system.
“Sounds intense,” he says. “It also sounds like you’re really making a difference. Not bad for a slimy lawyer.” He tries for light, but his eyes still hold a world of grief on my behalf.
I roll my eyes and give his sturdy chest a light shove.
He catches my wrists and pins them together with a large hand. “None of that, bad girl.”
Oh, lordy. The memory of my spanking last night comes rushing back. As if it hadn’t been at the forefront of my mind all day.
“No disrespect.” His voice drops an octave. “Or I’ll have to punish you again.”
My pussy clenches, but I ignore the way the threat lights me up.
He drops his gaze to my pebbled nipples showing through my tight yoga tank, ratting me out.
My face heats. “Y-you’re the bad one. Not me.” I yank the container of tacos closer. “There are two left, Aren’t you going to eat them?” It’s a lame attempt at distraction, but he allows it.
“So, if you were having lunch with a business owner who wants to give back to the community, what would you say foster kids need most?”
I straighten. “Does this business owner happen to own property all over Tucson? Including Club Eclipse?”
He grins. “Maybe.”
“Believe it or not, I’d love to have access to the club one night.”
He quirks a sexy brow. “Really?”
“Really. One of the social workers for the foster kids is looking for a place to host a “Families’ Night Out” with kids and their foster parents. It’d be so cool to take them to Eclipse. Let them have a dance party.”
“I don’t serve alcohol to anyone under twenty one,” he deadpans.
“Of course not,” I swat his hand. In a blur of movement, he catches it. My lips part as his mouth closes over my fingers, sucking them. The slow roll of his tongue has me blushing. Once more I imagine that tongue working between my legs. Not that I’ve ever wanted that before. Hell, I’d always thought it was kind of disgusting. You know, unsanitary. But the velvet wet heat of Garrett’s mouth has me dying for it.
I sag in my seat when he lets me go.
Swallowing hard, I continue. “I-it’d be a dry event. Just sodas and music. Maybe a light show. The kids will think it’s so cool. It’ll be good neutral territory for them to bond with their new families.”