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“Can you send Eugene our way tomorrow?”
I frowned. “Why?”
“It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.” Francis snorted. “Michael won’t be there until Christmas Day, so she can’t use him as an excuse not to come over.”
My frown deepened. “What’s with her and Michael? Why doesn’t she like him?”
“She once kicked him in the nuts,” Edwin said. “I think he was trying to push himself onto her.”
My jaw tightened. I wasn’t surprised, but the news pissed me off all the same.
“He was drunk,” Francis offered.
“That’s not an excuse,” Edwin stated.
“That’s definitely not a fucking excuse,” I muttered. “I’ve got to get back to the kitchen, but I’ll bring her tomorrow.”
“Youwill?” His forehead crinkled, and his eyes darted all over my face as if searching for something.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
I didn’t wait for his reply.
???
Fresh out of the shower, I found Eugene in front of the fireplace, reading. Instead of sitting on my recliner, I took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion. “Come here.”
She looked up from her Kindle, mouth parting. “What?”
“I said come here.”
“What, why?” She pulled her legs to her chest instead of getting up.
With a smile, I got up and plopped down on the floor beside her. When I grabbed her foot, she shrieked. I grinned and placed her bare feet under my legs. “Now how hard was that?” I asked.
“What are you doing?” she grumbled and covered her face with the Kindle.
I took the device from her. “I want to see your face when I’m talking to you.”
She leaned forward. Her cheeks and neck had turned red. “Are you happy now?”
I leaned in, too, close enough that I inhaled a strawberry scent wafting from her. My dick throbbed, and my heart quickened. I could see all those lovely specks of brown flickering from the firelight in her eyes. “Are you?”
Her hair was even brighter and untamed. The flames flickered within her dark eyes, and my heart melted under her heat. I realized she was gorgeous—I always had, but it was startling up close. She was everything I never wanted, and yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Again, I realized she had me spinning in her orbit.
I needed to calm the fuck down so my cock could relax. I wanted to comfort her, not freak her out.
She was the first to avert her gaze. Touching her forehead, she murmured, “What do you mean?”
“Tell me about this old job of yours and your boss.”
Her brows pinched together. “Why? I don’t want to talk about him or the job.”
“Danny Hopkins, right? I read the news about him.”
“If you read it, then why are you asking me? I know as much as everyone else.” Something a lot like hurt flashed in her eyes when she lifted her head. “Youthink I’m hiding something?”
“Hey, hey, hey.” I grabbed her hands. “I’m asking because I want to make sure you’re okay. If you want to talk about it, I’m here. That’s what I was getting at. I don’t give a fuck about anything else. I hope the shithead is found, but I care more about what’s going on in here.” I tapped her head, and she looked down.
