Dynamite & Whiskey

Dream of You (Prequel short)

May 27, 2017

Andy Barber's phone hummed in the pocket of his suit jacket. He plucked it out to see that he had a text from Laurie.

LB: How did it go?

Andy couldn't keep the smile off his face. He'd proved Buster Parson's innocence when everyone thought he wouldn't be able to pull it off.

Well, almost everyone thought he would lose the case.

AB: We won! What are you doing later, beautiful?

Andy had finished gathering his things and tucking them into his briefcase and was heading out of the courtroom before he got an answer. He was hoping that Laurie would be home, and they could celebrate. Really celebrate once Jacob went to bed.

Andy wasn't entirely sure his teenage son ever really went to bed. He was such a night owl.

LB: I've got a fundraiser tonight. I'll be home late. Will celebrate this weekend. Promise. 😉

AB: Sounds good.

He was on his own for the night.

Andy waited patiently for everything to be finalized so he could walk out with his client. Buster Parsons approached him in his simple suit, looking more relaxed than he had in the entire time he'd known the man.

"You ready?" Andy asked him, briefcase in hand.

"I am," the man said humbly. "Thank you, Andy, for everything."

"You're welcome," Andy told him.

For once, the smaller man had his head high, his shoulders back. He was a free man, found innocent of vehicular manslaughter. The reaction would be mixed outside. The lady who had died in the accident was well-loved in the town. But he thought Buster could handle it now.

"Let's go face those reporters now," Andy bid him. "One last time."

Reporters.

You would be there.

The swarm of them were there with their mics and cameramen, moving closer as Buster Parsons walked just ahead of him down the stone stairs. He paused to comment now that he could.

And there you were.

The subtle scent of roses and jasmine reached him as you drew closer. Your lips were a soft rose, a shade darker than the silky blouse you wore. As always, your blouse offered just a hint of the gentle curves it concealed. Your skirt was tight, smoothing over full hips and supple thighs, ending modestly below your knees. The pumps were elegant heels making your legs look a mile long.

"Mr. Barber?" You smiled at him, those candied lips shining below big, luminous eyes. And those eyes took him in like he was an honest-to-God hero, all admiration and awe.

It went straight to his head like it always did. You were beautiful. What man wouldn't feel that way?

"Mr. Barber?" you repeated.

Shit. Pay attention.

"Are you happy with the exoneration of Mr. Parsons?" you asked him, moving closer. Your arm pressed against his, soft fire.

Get a hold of yourself. You're a married man.

Andy answered your questions with his usual spiel. Justice prevailed... Mr. Parsons now could move on with his life... Hell, he could have said anything. He was really just getting an eyeful of you. The way the sun shone off your hair, the way your gaze moved over him with such...