Once I made all these decisions and finished my beer, the sun had disappeared completely behind the horizon. I levered myself up out of the chair and carried my bottle inside. After I dumped it, I wandered back into the guest room.
Though it wasn’t late, I showered and climbed into bed. I intended to read until I fell asleep, but I didn’t. Instead I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, and trying to convince myself I wasn’t getting played yet again.
Chapter Sixteen
‡
The next morning at work, I was jumpy as hell. Every time the phone rang or someone knocked on my office door, I jerked, my heart picking up speed. If I kept this up, I was going to have a heart attack before I was thirty.
At eleven, I got a text from King.
We’re going to lunch. Be ready at 1.
I scowled at my phone. God, he was so bossy. I hadn’t yet told him that I would be moving in with him that evening. I was putting it off as long as possible. Maybe never. If I couldn’t stay with Wick, maybe I could stay in a hotel. Or under a park bench.
It wasn’t even that I was angry with him, though I still was. I was frustrated because I liked him despite my anger. I liked his bossiness because I enjoyed sparring with him. I liked having him sitting across from me at the dinner table or chilling out on the couch together.
I even liked that dangerous edge he had because something told me it would never ever slice my skin. That should have been a clear indication of my insanity. King had already hurt me multiple times. How could I think he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again?
It had to be hormones. Only hormones could nullify common sense.
My phone vibrated again. 1. I’ll come to you.
I sighed and answered. Fine.
Tossing my phone on the blotter, I shoved my fingers in my hair and rested my elbows on the desk, propping up my suddenly aching head. I loathed feeling so out of control.
My body jolted as someone knocked on my office door. I lifted my head to see Marilyn standing there, a concerned expression on her face.
“Oh no, Jena. Are you still sick?” she asked, coming into the room.
I shook my head. “No, Marilyn. I’m fine. Just a little headache.” I made a show of pulling a bottle of ibuprofen out of my desk and shaking a few out into my hand. I washed them down with some water and forced myself to smile at her. “Did you need something?”
Her eyes narrowed on me, but I just kept smiling.
She let it go. “Okay, well, let me know if you still don’t feel well, okay? I realize you haven’t been here long, but I don’t expect you to work when you’re sick.”
Suddenly, I was deeply grateful that she’d chosen to hire me. Larry had always been nice to me but he never paid attention to when I was sick or insist I go home when I wasn’t feeling well. I chalked it up to him being a man and not noticing those things, but now I had to wonder if it was because he was a fricking wise guy.
“I’m good, Marilyn, I promise.”
Nodding, she perched on the edge of my desk. “Well, I got a call from Mr. Sloan and he needs you on site for the rest of this week. You’ll need to head over there this afternoon.”
“On site?” I asked.
“At his office.”
I nodded. This wasn’t unusual. Marilyn often sent out her CPA’s and bookkeepers to complete work for businesses and clients with several employees.
Smiling, she got to her feet. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Jena. I’ll see you next week, okay?”
“Okay,” I answered weakly.
After she left, I rested my head on the desk. Well, there went one of my worries. For the next week at least, I’d be under King’s wing, protected.
Too bad it compounded my other concerns.
* * *
I stared at King across the table, trying to figure out what I needed to say first.
He beat me to it.
“Your bags are at the house. You can ride home with me after we finish up at the bar.”
All the thoughts in my head ground to a halt. “Excuse me?”
“Tonight. You can ride home with me after we finish going over the paperwork at the bar.”
“King-”
He steamrolled right over me. “I’ll have Jack or someone drive your car to my house. You won’t need it this week. We’ll ride together to the bar and my office in Carrollton.”
“Your office in Carrollton?” I repeated.
King smirked at me. “Yes, Jena. Keep up.”
His smartass remark snapped me out of my haze. “Knock it off, King. You’re taking a lot for granted.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve already had my bags picked up from Wick’s house!”
He grinned wider. “I was trying to be efficient.”
I rolled my eyes at him and took a sip of my wine. Normally, I would never drink at lunch on a workday, preferring Starbucks to Pinot Noir at noon, but today I was making an exception. Something I did a lot when it came to Alaric Sloan.
His face grew serious. “Jena, there’s something I need to say to you.”
Leaning forward, he laced his hands together, his black eyes focused intently on me.
I fidgeted in my seat. “Uh, I’m not sure I wanna hear this,” I muttered.
“You do. You also need to hear it,” he insisted.
I swallowed hard, trying not to look as uncertain as I felt.
“I did something horrible to you three years ago when I told Justin to worm his way into your life. It’s something I’ve had to do before in my line of work, but when I met you, that was the first time I’d ever regretted it.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you apologizing to me?” If he was, I might pass out due to shock. King was not a man who offered apologies.
His dark eyes hardened, as did his jaw. “Yes.”
I nodded. “Your apology is accepted.”
The tension in his face drained out. “You forgive me?” He sounded surprised.
“I didn’t say that, King. I accept your apology and I won’t hold a grudge, but I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to forgive you.”
His expression turned stony and his eyes blazed with black fire. “There’s a difference?”
A chill ran down my spine. “Yes, there is,” I answered, fighting to keep my voice strong when all I wanted to do was collapse beneath the weight of his stare. “I think that someday I can let go of my anger toward you, King, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust you. To forgive someone, you have to trust that they won’t harm you again, that their regret over what occurred is stronger than their impulse to do something that will be detrimental to you.”
Suddenly, he didn’t look like he wanted to wring my neck anymore. He looked pensive.
Feeling uncomfortable, I returned to picking at what was left of my food, but I had lost my appetite.
Finally, after a long silence, King asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah.”
I went to the ladies’ room to freshen up while he paid the check. When I came out, he was messing with his phone at the table.
As I drew closer, he looked up, “Ready?”
I nodded. He stood, but didn’t speak to me as we walked out of the restaurant.
King held a hand out to me and said, “Keys.”
Frowning, I asked, “What?”
A scowl crossed his face. “I need your keys, Jena. Jack is gonna drive your car to my house while we go to the bar.”
“No, that’s okay. I can drive to the bar and then to your house later.”
“Jena, for fuck’s sake, just do what I tell you for once,” he snapped.
My eyes narrowed, but I didn’t respond verbally. I fished my keys out of my purse and dropped them in his hand, careful not to touch his fingers. Then I stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over my chest and silent, while we waited for Jack to show up.