Chapter 16
FAITH
Typical man couldn’t even apologize properly.
I’m sorry you got that impression. I rolled my eyes again.
Idiot man. Drunk me—yes, I was willing to admit it now—was proud that I’d said something and stuck up for myself.
At least I’d managed not to blurt how gorgeous he was.
Him holding my wrist was the hottest thing that had happened to me for a long time—how sad—and that included the months I’d been sleeping with Mark who had no idea that female orgasms were a thing.
It made me wonder what else Curtis’s fingers were good at. And now my vagina was awake again.
It hadn’t helped that I was sitting between Curtis and Jack, their thick thighs bracing mine on either side.
Jack’s felt nice, but Curtis’s felt like it was burning a hole through my tailored trousers.
I looked down at where our legs touched, letting my gaze wander to his crotch.
There was a slight, somewhat lengthy bulge.
How big was it in all its glory? The bulge didn’t tell me much.
Thankfully, I wasn’t drunk enough to reach over and feel for myself. Maybe I should’ve had that extra beer.
Eric pulled over and stopped the car, making me look up.
Oops, busted. I’d been caught trying to check out the package.
Curtis smirked but said nothing. It was all I could do not to say that I wasn’t trying to get a good look at his penis, honestly, I wasn’t—okay I was—and I had no interest in his penis or anyone else’s.
It wasn’t a crime to look, for goodness’ sake.
Eric came around to open Curtis’s door. Jack smiled. “Nighty, night, Faith.”
“Night, and thanks for the lift.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank my brother. He never could resist helping a damsel in distress, especially a pretty one.” He winked. Normally someone winking would be slapstick or corny, but Jack made it cute. The gene combination that created the Knight men was lethal.
Also, I would take that to mean that he didn’t really care about me in particular—it was more his habit of saving people in general. From what the others said tonight, he would help you whether you were a man or a woman. He was just a good guy.
I swallowed the discomfort burning my throat.
Suddenly it hit me: There was something going on in the company I didn’t know about, something I was caught in the middle of.
Not that I didn’t suspect it before, but things didn’t add up.
My head started aching. I wasn’t sober enough to work through these thoughts.
“Are you coming?” Curtis asked as he bent and peered into the car.
“Ah, sorry. Yeah.” I slid out and carefully stepped onto the sidewalk. Concentration was a must when trying to appear more sober than you were. I suspected that any self-beliefs of succeeding were delusional. Once I was steady, I said, “How did you know I lived here? I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s in your personnel file. Nice place, by the way.” Amy’s seven-story walk-up had ornate stone framing around the windows, and it was in great condition. It really was a cute building.
I tried not to feel the embarrassment making its way to my cheeks.
Things were what they were, and it was my fault, so I might as well dive into the mud of admission and roll around in it.
“It is, but it’s not mine. I’m crashing with my best friend while I’m in my loser era.
She’s a lawyer, and I needed somewhere to stay while I found a job.
I’m saving up to rent my own place. Thanks to your aunt giving me the job, I’m close to being able to afford something small.
Anyway, Amy is the best friend ever, and I’m lucky to have her.
” I gave him a small smile—I really was grateful for the job, even though it had become… complicated.
“You didn’t grow up in New York City?”
“No. My mom lives a couple of hours north, and she doesn’t really want me there, which is fine since I’m an adult.
” He frowned. After a beat of silence too long—yep, I’d made it awkward by oversharing—I shrugged.
“Anyway… thanks again for saving me and for the lift. I appreciate it.” Why had I said all that?
Now he thought even less of me than before, if that was possible, and I still had to turn up and work for him on Monday.
Knowing how rich people thought, he likely knew I’d brought it on myself and believed all my problems were well-deserved. He and Mom would get along well.
He peered at me, his five-o’clock-shadowed jaw set, the muscles bunching.
I couldn’t read the expression in his eyes, but it was unsettled and almost angry.
I would’ve taken a step back, but being near him was too addictive, and he wouldn’t hurt me—I didn’t know a lot about him, but I knew that.
I settled for lowering my gaze first to his lips, then to the exposed column of his throat.
My fingers itched to trace along his jaw and down the cord of artery protruding from his strong neck, skim down it, and keep going.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple drawing my attention. He cleared his throat, and I blinked, coming out of my trance. Finally, gruffly, he said, “Not a problem. I’d do the same for any of my employees.”
Welp, that was that, then. As much as that reinforced my idea that he had no particular positive feelings toward me, the reminder was definitely for the best. I had to stop all neck, butt, and sausage-shaped-protrusion gazing ASAP.
“Aha. Excellent. Okay, bye.” I focused on walking in a straight line to Amy’s building. Footsteps sounded behind me. I didn’t turn as I said, “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”
“I might be your least-favorite person, but I’m always a gentleman.”
I wished it were true… that he was my least-favorite person.
He was growing on me, even with his grumpy-ass ways.
It was clear my hormones were happily steering this ship straight to the bottom of the ocean.
I was waiting for them to get tired and go home or at least have a nap for a few weeks.
To be fair to them though, they’d been through a fairly long dry patch.
I supposed it was good they were still alive and hadn’t left me altogether.
Curtis had stopped right behind me. Even though I was probably imagining things, I could feel the heat from his body. Why did he have to affect me this way?
Please, God, can he not notice I’m turned on?
I fumbled my keys and took two goes to get it into the lock.
Bosshole chuckled behind me. Once I’d cracked the door open, I held it and turned.
Boy, was that a mistake. My boobs were a couple of inches from his chest. If I just swayed a bit, I could smush them against his broadness.
Maybe this was the beer talking? Mmhmm, that must be it. I managed a strangled “Goodnight.”
He smiled again, taunting dimples forming on each side of his kissable mouth. The way he was staring at me was…. The sudden intensity had my head spinning, chasing my stomach to the ground as if I’d just had another beer.
He slowly lifted his hand, hovering it near my cheek. Was he going to touch my face? And why? It couldn’t be because he actually wanted to for romantic reasons. Was there food on it or a bug? At the last second, he lowered his arm and shook his head. “Sleep well, Donut Girl. I’ll see you Monday.”
He turned and walked away, leaving me with the girl boner from hell and more questions than I had two hours ago. What had just happened or not happened, and would things be different on Monday? Would I be different on Monday? Who really was Curtis Knight?
I vowed to get to the bottom of it before the end of next week because the more time I spent with him, the less likely I was to be able to do the job his aunt and father were paying me to do without throwing myself at Curtis.
Did he know what I was up to? Was him thawing toward me strategic? Argh, I had no idea.
It was time to bring in the big guns. Tomorrow I’d tell Amy all about it, and to hell with my NDA.
Besides, she was a lawyer, and I could trust her not to tell anyone.
I really hoped she could help because I was running out of time.
I needed to find evidence of something soon—Curtis’s innocence or guilt—or I was going to lose my job.
Stephanie and Knight Senior wanted answers. And they expected me to deliver them.