Perfect for You

Greg standing before her, so virile in his baggy shorts and old tee shirt, she had a surge of feeling that she might have called happiness.
    He reached down and rubbed what she assumed was the smudge he said she had. The shock of his touch made the words that she'd been about to say dry up in her mouth so, to her dismay, all she could do was gape at him like an electrocuted fish.
    "I'm not sure this will do any good." His touch softened into a slow caress. "You have more on your forehead."
    It made thinking hard, so she pushed his hand away. "I'm weeding, so it makes sense that I have dirt on me."
    He picked up the spade lying next to her. She caught a whiff of the clean laundry tang of his shirt mixed with his own scent and sighed. A woman could get high off that smell.
    Crouching at the other end of the flowerbed, he said, "It's the perfect day to be out here."
    She shot him an incredulous look. "You like to garden."
    "No, I like to enjoy the sun with a friend." He grinned at her. "I'd much prefer to ride along the coast in a convertible, but this isn't a bad second."
    "You think of me as a friend?"
    "I'd like you to be more than a friend, but we'll get to that eventually."
    "Will we?" she asked, surprised at her thoughtful tone. At one time she would have vehemently told him no way in hell . But nowÉ
    "Of course we will." He looked at her then, his blue gaze direct and open. "I'm not going to give up."
    "But you haven't—" She clamped her mouth shut before she said he hadn't bugged her all week.
    "I had a particularly gnarly case this week." He dug at a stubborn weed. "My client was, how should I put it? A bitch."
    She grinned. "Are you allowed to talk about her like that?"
    "After this week, yes. She's suing him, and she's the one who cheated on the poor guy." He gave it a hard tug and dropped it onto the pile she'd accumulated. "Some people shouldn't be allowed to get married. Ever."
    Freya didn't have the heart to tell him he'd just pulled a daisy plant. "You're upset about this."
    "Marriage isn't something to use and casually throw away."
    "You really believe that."
    "Of course." He frowned at her. "Don't you?"
    "Well, yeah. But you're the divorce lawyer."
    "Because sometimes we go in with the best intentions and it doesn't turn out the way we envisioned. And then you need someone on your side to help you get through it."
    "Even your bitchy client?"
    Scowling, he shook his head. "Normally I wouldn't take someone like that, but I knew I could keep her from completely decimating the poor fool who married her."
    "A lawyer with a conscience." She shook her head. "What'll happen next? Flying pigs?"
    "You going out with me."
    She raised her brow.
    "I have it on good authority that I'm an excellent date. That's what my goddaughter says."
    "You have a goddaughter."
    "Abby. She's great," he replied, beaming proudly. "Fearless and smart and beautiful. Like her mother."
    "How did you end up with a goddaughter?"
    "Don, Abby's dad, and I went to Columbia together. He was getting his MBA while I was in law school. We became good friends, but he got married and we lost touch. Anyway, one day he showed up in my office asking if I'd represent him in his divorce."
    She finished the story for him. "After which he found his true love, married her, and had a baby."
    "No," he contradicted. "Melinda was his true love. I facilitated their reconciliation and then they had Abby. They moved to the Bay Area before she was born. Abby is one of the reasons I moved out here from New York."
    Okay. Well, she was a little surprised. Who ever heard of a divorce attorney saving someone's marriage? They were supposed to be heartless sharks—the worse breed of lawyers.
    "You know, this garden reflects who you are." He paused in his work and was looking at her. His eyes mirrored the sky, and for a second she felt like she was soaring through them. "It's organized, not haphazard. But at the same time it's not overly restricted. More organic and natural, with an abundance of life. It's tamed, but still wildly. The colors are bright and vibrant, and it has a hint of sophistication." He touched one of the scarlet roses in front of him in a way that made her wish she had petals. "Passion too. Just like you."
    She swallowed, speechless and unsure of what to say. She took the coward's way out. "Tell me about Abby," she blurted abruptly.
    "Abby is two and a half and an absolute terror. She's very good at getting her way and isn't afraid to use her