So why couldn’t he leave her alone? Why did she consume his thoughts? He had never been obsessed with a woman before. Why this one? Even Melissa had noticed his preoccupation, but she had accepted his explanation of being overloaded at his new job and stressed out about all the last-minute wedding preparations.

It didn’t help matters that he had avoided having sex with her since his night with Tess. Hell, it had only been three nights and yet he’d been afraid Melissa would notice, especially last night when she had hinted about spending the night at his place. He had practically shoved her out the door, using the lame excuse that he had to get some sleep for a big trial in the morning. What was his problem? Was he really afraid that Melissa would discover his betrayal somehow if he touched her differently? Or did he simply not want to erase the memories of having sex with Tess? Because he had played back that night over and over in his head so many times he could conjure it up at will.

Shit, he was fucked up!

As he turned the corner, heading to Records he ran into Nick Morrelli. The contents of Will’s folder spilled across the floor, and he was on his knees before Nick had a chance to know what hit him.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?” Nick said, joining Will on the floor.

Others stepped around them, not paying any attention as their heels smashed and crumpled the scattered papers.

Nick handed him the papers he had gathered while they stood up. But Will’s eyes darted across the floor, making sure he had everything. That was all he needed—to lose some piece of paper that would give the defense an edge in whatever this trial was.

“So what’s the rush?” Nick asked again, hands in his pockets, waiting.

“No rush.” Will straightened the stack and raked his fingers through his hair. He wondered if Nick could see the slight tremor in his hand. Although the two men were new to the D.A.’s office, Nick had been one of Will’s professors in law school back at the University of Nebraska. He still looked up to Nick as a mentor instead of a colleague. And he knew Nick had sort of taken him under his wing, helping a fellow Midwesterner adjust to the rush of big-city life in Boston.

“You look like shit.” Nick looked concerned. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. I’m fine.”

Nick didn’t look convinced. He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. How ’bout we get burgers down the street? I’m buying.”

“Okay. Yeah, sure. If you’re buying.” Geez! Even his speech was jerky. “Let me drop this stuff at Records.”

It was warm enough for shirtsleeves, but both men wore their jackets. Will realized he’d need to wear his jacket for the rest of the day if the pools under his arms were as obvious as they felt. Maybe all these physical reactions were simply cold feet. After all, the wedding was, what, three or four weeks away? Holy crap! How could it be that close?

Will filled the conversation with boring stuff about the trials Nick had missed while in Kansas City. It was the only way to ignore the concerned look in his ex-professor’s eyes. Nick politely listened, then seemed to wait until Will’s mouth was full of fries before he asked.

“So you ready to tell me what the hell’s bugging you?”

Will wiped away the ketchup on the corner of his mouth and swallowed. He grabbed his Pepsi and washed down what threatened to stick in his throat.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“I didn’t say wrong. I said what’s bugging you?”

“Oh.” He wiped his mouth again, buying time. Leave it to a lawyer to fuss over the wording.

“So what’s wrong?”

Will shoved his plate aside. He had managed to wolf down half his burger and almost all his fries before Nick had taken a second bite of his burger. He could feel the heartburn tightening into a fist and settling in the middle of his chest. As if he needed one more physical discomfort.

“I think I fucked up big time.”

Nick continued eating, waiting, examining him over the burger that he held with both hands. Finally he said, “It wasn’t the Prucello case, was it?”

“No. No, it wasn’t anything to do with work.”

Nick looked relieved. Then his brow furrowed again. “You getting cold feet about the wedding?”

Will gulped his Pepsi. He waved at the waiter and pointed to his glass for another, wishing he could trade it for something stronger.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Then he pulled in his chair and leaned across the table so he could keep his voice down despite the noisy lunch-hour crowd. Two of the tables next to them were filled with people he knew from the courthouse.

“Sunday night I met this woman. Christ, Nick! She was…incredible. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.”

Nick chewed and watched him as if contemplating what to say. If anyone would understand, surely it would be Nick Morrelli. Will knew that years ago, all the talk around campus about Nick and some of his own students, as well as several female professors, had not been idle rumor. Nick Morrelli had had his share of one-night stands. Even after he had left the university to take the position as sheriff of Platte City, the reputation and the activity had followed him.

“This woman,” Nick said slowly, carefully, “was she a hooker?”

Will almost choked.

“No, hell no,” he said, glancing around the small diner to make certain no one noticed he was agitated. “The guys—Mickey, Rob, Bennet—they sort of dared me into picking up this woman who was at the bar. She was incredible, sexy and so…I don’t know, uninhibited. But no, she’s no goddamn hooker.” He stopped and lowered his voice, noticing two women at the next table staring at him. “She’s older, probably about your age. Very attractive with this amazing…sensuality. But in a sophisticated sort of way, not, you know, cheap or anything like that. In fact, I think she’s a real estate agent or something.”

The waiter brought Will’s refill. He slid back in his chair, grabbed the glass and gulped half of it. Nick continued eating, as if it was no big deal. Will started feeling anxious and a bit angry. Hell, he had just spilled his guts, and Nick seemed more interested in finishing his goddamn burger.

“So what you’re really saying is that she’s a pretty incredible fuck?”

“Jesus Christ, Nick!”

“Well? Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“You know, man, I thought you of all people would understand this. But forget it. Forget I mentioned it.” Will pulled his plate closer and started shoving French fries into his mouth, avoiding looking at Nick. One of the women at the next table smiled at him. Evidently she didn’t know that he was an idiot.

“Come on, Will. Be sensible for one minute.” Nick waited until he had Will’s attention. “Are you willing to piss away three or four years with Melissa for one incredible fuck?”

“No. Of course not.” Will slumped in his chair and wrestled with the knot in his tie. He looked up and met Nick’s eyes. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Look, Will. I’ve been with a lot of women, incredible women. But you can’t let one incredible fuck rule your life’s decisions.”

They sat in silence as Nick finished eating. Will sat up, leaned across the table again, only now noticing the sleeve of his jacket dripping with ketchup. Shit! These days he seemed to spend more money on dry cleaning than he did on food.

“It wasn’t just the sex, Nick.” He felt he needed to explain, but wasn’t sure he understood it himself. “There was something else. I don’t know what. Something about her. I can’t get her out of my mind. I mean, here’s this strong, passionate, sexy, independent woman, who could also be…oh, hell I don’t know…vulnerable and sweet and funny and…and real. I know we both had too much to drink, and we know very little about each other, but…I can’t stop thinking about her.”

He watched Nick take out crisp bills and lay them on the plastic tray with the tab. Had it been a mistake to say any of this out loud? Should he have kept it to himself?