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“Okay. I had to ask.”
His shrug was a lie—he was pissed and the fury rolled off him in waves. Even if his body language hadn’t changed for almost anyone who watched him, Violet knew it had. And yes, she was the only one in the room but hell, she stared at him enough. She knew.
Swallowing back her uncertainty of what she was about to do, she rose and went to the door. With a small sigh, she pushed it closed then walked back to the chair and sat.
“I believe you, Hastings, but I did have to ask. You’ve said yourself that you didn’t know a lot about what had been going on with him.” The urge to touch ran roughshod over her. She wanted to offer this man comfort.
“I may have failed him as a friend and fellow soldier, but I know he wasn’t on drugs. What is this? You told Kimberleigh that you believed her.”
She pursed her lips briefly. “We need her to trust us. This is just you and me. We need to be honest and look at the truth no matter how ugly it may be.”
Even with his beard, she could see the flexing of his jaw and she squeezed her legs together. Again. This man was wreaking havoc on her resolve. He wore down a layer simply by breathing.
Finishing off her celery, she rested her forearms on the desk, grateful for the long sleeves protecting her skin from the metal. The day had gotten dark, and rain once again sluiced down over the city.
“I have a meeting tomorrow with the doctor. Not sure what he will share but at least he is willing to meet me.” Violet chewed the inside of her cheek.
He sucked something off his thumb and reclined in his chair. Legs spread, offering her an unobstructed view of what he had between his legs. And if she was honest, which she was, she was enjoying it. Probably too much, but there it was. Hastings draped one arm over the back of his chair while he sat there.
Bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.
The sexy half smirk told her that.
Determined to ignore her clamoring ovaries and the majority of her body, which was firmly on Team Jump Hastings, she laced her fingers together and promised her body relief. Later.
“Want me to go with you?”
Her gaze locked on his index finger, which he dragged up and down the edge of the chair, and she shifted in her seat. Christ, even that was a turn-on. Skin flushing, she shook her head. “I’m good. We have more people coming in tomorrow.”
“Bradford did good by picking you to do this. You’ve made it seamless.”
Her snarky comeback was cut short by his phone ringing. Didn’t help her in the slightest when he bucked up his pelvis to drag the phone from his back pocket, thrusting all that she wanted in the world more firmly in her face.
God, if it were in my face again. She licked her lips, missing his earthy scent and the heavy weight of his cock on her tongue.
“What?” The word fell from his lips low and growled as he pushed up from his chair and walked toward her.
He never made it. The man froze. Like he’d been hit with a freeze ray or something similar. Violet leaned back in her chair, taking in his expression. Marble. Granite. Stone. Something hard and immovable.
“I see. Thanks.” He ended the call and shoved his phone into his front pocket.
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t respond.
She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “What’s going on? Hastings?”
The use of his name seemed to tug him from whatever stupor he’d been in. Those incredible gray eyes were as impersonal as a brick wall. What the fuck happened?
“Talk to me? Is it Evan?”
“No.” He sighed with his entire body.
Thank God for that, at least. “Then what?”
“My old man is here.”
Five words had never sounded so ominous.
Anger and resentment locked his limbs as he stood before Violet’s desk. The mere thought of that fucker near him pushed him to be the mindless killer many viewed those in the military as. Granted, his focus would be on one who he wouldn’t have trouble doing that to. The man who had made his childhood hell.
“Hastings.”
There it was. A thin thread of light snaking through the darkness surrounding him. He gripped it and held tight, allowing her voice to guide him out.
Blinking, he glanced down at her. She’d not gotten out of the chair but there was concern in her gaze. He took it to heart.
“What?”
“Here where? In San Francisco? About to walk through the door?”
“Airport. His private plane just landed.”
She pressed her lips together, flattening them. He nearly reached out to her simply to cup her jaw and get her to stop doing that.
“How do you want to handle it?”
