“Can I have a piece of candy?”

A little kid stood in front of me dressed in a Captain America costume, his hand clutched in his older brother’s. The carnival was mainly for the middle school students, but some of them had brought younger siblings with them. Everyone seemed to be having a blast.

Blair had outdone herself. The event was way more impressive than your typical school carnival. The kids wandered around with dazed, overexcited looks on their faces, as though the combination of sugar, games, and pumpkins was better than a trip to Disney World.

I’d always been happy to donate money to various charities in Chicago. I’d grown up on the South Side streets; I knew how desperately the neighborhoods needed it. But I hadn’t done anything hands-on. Ever. It hadn’t been my wife’s style, and with me working eighty-plus hour weeks, there hadn’t been much left over for volunteering. But just the simple act of handing out candy to these kids, seeing their smiles . . .

It felt a lot better than just writing a check.

I’d been one of these kids, knew how life could drag you down and pile on until you didn’t believe you had a chance at anything better. I’d been lucky that school had come easily for me, that I’d always liked learning, and that alone had probably saved me from joining a gang or worse.

I’d planned on overseeing the pro bono program without getting involved, but maybe I could research places I could help out. The slower work pace helped and I definitely had the time now. I’d always been pretty balls-to-the-wall, but it was impossible to ignore the fact that I’d also burned out fast. It was nice to not work an eighteen-hour day. To sleep in a bed rather than the couch in my office. To eat normal meals rather than existing on caffeine, coke, and the occasional sandwich my secretary picked up for me. I went to the gym now, had even started boxing again—a habit I’d lost when I’d started law school.

Rehab had taught me to find balance in my life, to recognize my triggers. I had the kind of personality where shit snowballed real quickly if I didn’t get it under control.

“Can I have some candy?”

The sound of the small voice jerked me back as I stared down at the cutest little girl I’d ever seen. She’d lost her front teeth, gracing me with a winsome smile, her little body dressed in a purple costume that looked like a fairy or something. The words came out with a slight lisp.

I crouched down, dropping a few pieces in her outstretched jack-o’-lantern candy basket.

Jessica hadn’t been a big fan of children—too messy, too loud, too much trouble, even with the nanny my money would have provided. I’d never been a kid guy. I’d been so busy making money I hadn’t really cared. But staring at this adorable little girl, I wondered what it would have been like if we’d had a kid. Would I have fucked it up with all of my problems? Or would loving something more than myself have grounded me in a way nothing else seemed to?

The little girl flashed me another smile, sending a pang somewhere near the vicinity of my heart. And then her chubby little hand came up and she gave me a wave. A smile tugged at my lips as I returned the wave, my body crouched down, eye level with her. We studied each other, and then she turned her head, and I was forgotten.

“I want to go see the princess!” she cried.

I followed her gaze and froze.

Blair stood a few feet away, dressed like a ballerina. The top was pink and gold, held up by thin straps that showed a mouthwatering amount of skin. It fit snugly against her torso and then flared out in a lighter pink tutu. Her legs were covered in tights, ballerina slippers on her feet. Her hair was up in a tight bun, some sort of tiara on her head.

A group of girls surrounded her, their eyes wide, clearly dazzled by her. I didn’t blame them. She looked like something out of a fairy tale.

Blair beamed, bending down to speak to one of the little girls, her eyes glowing, and our gazes locked as if she knew I was standing there, as if she’d been looking for me all along.

Blair

I wasn’t sure my ovaries could handle the sight of Graydon Canter smiling at a little girl dressed like a fairy.

I was ridiculously attracted to him on a normal day, add in the way he beamed at the little girl, and I was done.

And then he looked at me, and everything else fell away as a flutter took root in my heart, spreading throughout my body.

It was as though he held a string that bound us together, and even if I’d wanted to sever the tie, I couldn’t.

“How are things going?” I asked, flashing the little fairy next to him a big smile, trying to get my racing heart under control. My entire body felt electrified, awareness humming through my veins.

His eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Good.”

I took some candy from the bucket in front of him, my hand shaking slightly, and handed it out to the girls around me. Gray stood still beside me.

When I’d finished, I hovered there, not ready to leave.

I wracked my brain for topics to discuss.

“It’s a nice turnout, right? Everyone seems to be having a good time. Even the volunteers. Nothing like celebrating Halloween and seeing kids smile to take the stress of law school away.”

I took a deep breath, the pace of my rambling timed by the rapid beating of my heart.

“Speaking of, I’ve heard of other law schools bringing in pets to visit with students during finals. It helps relieve anxiety. I was thinking we should do something like that, but maybe use shelter dogs so they get some love. What do you think?”

He blinked. “Sure.”

I waited for the rest of it, but he just stood there, staring down at me with that same dazed expression on his face.

And then he spoke and shocked me.

“You dressed as a ballerina.” The words came out rough, their thrust softened by the light blazing from his eyes.

Contrasts.

The harsh white Phantom mask and the gravelly voice fit with the man who could be cold and intimidating, who ruled his classroom as though it was his fiefdom. But the softness in his gaze matched the man who’d knelt down to place candy in a child’s basket. Who’d offered his palm up in a wave that had my heart turning over in my chest, who’d taught me con law when I’d needed it.

Contrasts.

I looked down, unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze any longer. “I played one of the sugar plum fairies in The Nutcracker a couple years ago. Easy costume.”

I’d been so busy with school and the carnival that I hadn’t had time to come up with something better. My old dance costume had seemed like the perfect solution.

He took a deep breath, as if he was desperately sucking in air. And the energy around us changed.

His gaze no longer looked admiring or dazed. He looked hungry.

For me.

Gray

I didn’t take my eyes off of her the entire night.

Blair had left my side to run one of the games, and I stood there like an idiot, handing out candy, struggling to make small talk, all while staring at her like she was the sun and I’d been shrouded in darkness.

A small smile played at her lips every time our gazes met. I couldn’t touch her, couldn’t even risk talking to her, not when having her close was enough to make me lose control. So I looked. A lot.

Blair turned and spoke to Crossword Boy. He’d been hovering around her all night. My eyes narrowed as he bent his head and whispered something in her ear, his hand behind her, as though he were touching her back.

Motherfucker.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that the guy liked her. I wasn’t sure if Blair had picked up on it or not, but he looked at her in class. Constantly. I caught it every fucking time because I was inevitably always watching her.

I’d also noticed that he had a tendency to find excuses to touch her. Like right fucking now.