Always the Best Man by Michelle Major

I’d overcome. He claimed he’d always felt protective of me because my mother abandoned me and my dad was so messed up. Would you believe he even compared me to his own sons?”
    â€œAaron and Todd?” Emily snorted. “Those two caused more trouble as teens than anyone else in the school. I haven’t seen Todd, but from what I can tell, Aaron hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still a big bully. I don’t know how many times I have to say no to a date before he quits calling me.”
    â€œHe’s calling you?” As angry as Jase was about Charles, temper of a different sort flared to the surface of his skin, hot and prickly. It was almost a relief to channel his frustration toward something outside himself. Something he could control. Above all else, Jase understood the value of control. “I’ll take care of it.”
    â€œHold on there, Hero-man. I don’t need you to handle Aaron for me. I can take care of annoying jerks all on my own.”
    â€œYou can handle everything, right?”
    He regretted the rude question as soon as it was out of his mouth. Emily should snap back at him because he was lashing out at her with no cause. Instead, she flashed him a saucy grin. “Takes one to know one.”
    The smile, so unexpected and undeserved, diffused most of his anger, leaving him with a heaping pile of steaming self-doubt. He sat on the edge of his desk and leaned forward, hands on his knees.
    â€œI’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself.” His chin dropped to his chest and he stared at the small stain peeking out from under one of the chairs in front of the desk. “But it’s a lot easier to worry about other people than think of how quickly my own life is derailing.”
    A moment later he felt cool fingers brush away the hair from his forehead. He wanted to lean into her touch but forced himself to remain still. “Did you ever meet Andrew Meyer who used to run this office? I took over his practice four years ago, and I haven’t changed a thing.” He pushed the toe of his leather loafer against the chair leg until the stain was covered. “Not one piece of furniture or painting on the wall. You can still see the frame marks from where he took down his law school diploma and I never bothered to replace it with mine. I inherited his secretary and his clients, and I haven’t lifted a finger to make this place my own. Hell, I think the magazines in the lobby are probably four years old. Maybe even older.”
    â€œI switched them for current issues,” she said softly.
    Her fingers continued to caress him and it felt so damn good to take a small amount of comfort from her. Too good. He lifted his head, and she dropped her hand.
    â€œWhy haven’t you changed anything?” She didn’t move away, and it was the hardest thing Jase had ever done not to pull her closer.
    â€œBecause this place isn’t mine.”
    â€œIt is,” she said, her tone confused. “It’s your office. Your clients. Your reputation.” She laughed. “Your mortgage.”
    â€œThis is the oldest law practice in the town. It was founded in the early 1900s and passed down through the Meyer family for generations. Andrew didn’t have kids, so he offered a partnership position to me when I was still in law school. He wanted a Crimson native to take over the firm. This is his legacy. Not mine.”
    â€œJase, you are the poster child for the town’s favorite son. Charles Thompson can’t hold a candle to the man you’ve become. Whether it was despite where you came from or because of it, the truth doesn’t change.”
    â€œWhat if who people see isn’t the truth? What if I’ve become too good at playing the part people expect of me?”
    â€œYou don’t have to reflect the town’s image of you back at them. You’re more than a two-dimensional projection of yourself. Show