I botched up two briefs, and my paralegals had to scramble to fix the editorial shit before filing with the court. The stupid part is, it's easy. It's shit I've been doing for years, and I screwed it up because I couldn't quit thinking about kissing her. This. This right here is why Scout is such a bad idea. Because I know if I let her in—even if I were to take her to bed the way I do every other girl in my life, including Mel—it could never be a casual hookup. She'd slip in, and I wouldn't be able to get her out, because that's what she does—that's what she's always been able to do to me. Sometimes it drives me bat-shit crazy. Like right now, when I have blue balls and want nothing more than to go home and throw her down on my bed. And from her response this afternoon, I know she'd be on board. But she's Scout. Gorgeous, unpredictable, and too damn important to use for a one-night stand. At five, I lock the office up—Glenda and the rest of the staff left almost an hour ago—and head to my Viper.
