CHAPTER 4. “Hey, baby doll,” Micah Hudson said as he rounded the corner into Faith’s office.

“H ey, baby doll,” Micah Hudson said as he rounded the corner into Faith’s office.

She smiled as she put down the phone. “Hey, yourself.”

He flopped into the chair across from her desk, his long legs sprawling in front of him. Arching his hips up, he fished in his pocket before pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Seconds later, he shoved one end of the cigarette in his mouth and flicked his lighter.

She emitted a sigh just as he inhaled like a man drawing his last breath.

“Micah, what have I told you about smoking in my office?”

He flashed her a sexy grin and exhaled a long plume of smoke. “Come on, Faith. You know I’m trying to quit. Down to just a couple a day. Pop gives me hell, so I can’t smoke around him anymore. You’re my only safe haven.”

She rolled her eyes. “So because I’m a softy, I get to die from secondhand smoke inhalation.” She rummaged in her drawer for one of the old plastic ashtrays she kept on hand and shoved it across the desk at him. “At least use this so you don’t get ashes everywhere.”

He grinned at her and blew her a kiss as he reached for the ashtray. She shook her head. It should be a sin for any one man to be so damn sexy. Micah was a man clearly unused to being told no over anything, and with good reason. What woman could possibly stand her ground against his wicked charm?

“You’re the best.”

He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray then looked back up at her, his warm brown eyes questioning. Still holding his cigarette between his fingers, he reached up and tucked his unruly hair behind his ear. His diamond stud earring glittered as it was exposed to her view.

A lock of hair, upset by his impatient shove, fell forward over his brow. He thrust his free hand through his hair above his forehead, pulling it tight against his head in a backward motion. When he let it go, the loose curls flopped over his head once more. She grinned at the disheveled image he presented. Somehow he just made it work. Messy was sexy on him.

“What you got going on today? Have you met Gray Montgomery yet?”

She cursed the rush of heat that flooded her cheeks and hoped like hell her fair skin, so prone to blushing, hadn’t just given her away.

“Yeah, I met him yesterday. Showed him to his office.”

“And?”

“And what?” she asked, arching a brow at him.

“What did you think?”

“Uh, I didn’t think anything. He seems nice. Quiet. Maybe a little brooding. He should fit in well around here. He and Connor could be best friends forever.”

Micah burst out laughing. “Just what we need. One more brooding bastard.”

“Well, someone has to even things out. You and Nathan give poor Connor so much shit.”

“Well hell, someone has to. Nobody should be that serious.”

Faith cracked a small smile. Finally she started giggling and raised a hand to cover her mouth. “Okay, so he’s a little uptight.”

Micah snuffed his cigarette. “A little? You could bounce a quarter off his ass.”

“Whose ass are we talking about?” Nathan asked as he sauntered in.

“Uh, well, Micah seems to have developed a fetish over Connor’s ass,” Faith said innocently.

Micah flipped her the bird.

“Jesus, man, you been smoking again?” Nathan asked as he wrinkled his nose. “It smells like a damn bar in here.”

Faith heaved a sigh of exasperation and reached into her drawer for the air freshener. Both men coughed as she sprayed a cloud of the floral-scented spray.

“I wish you guys would get off my ass,” Micah grumbled. “I’m doing my best.”

“Yes, you are,” Faith said loyally. “But in the future, I wish you’d do your best outside my office.”

Nathan chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets. His shaggy, light brown hair curled outward over his ears and flipped rebelliously at his neck. A goatee framed his mouth and chin. It was in need of a good trim. Green eyes, full of mirth, rested underneath a set of ridiculously long lashes. Lashes that Faith would kill to have. It was so not fair that eyes that gorgeous were wasted on a man.

“When are you going to get a haircut?” she asked.

Micah snickered.

Nathan ran a hand through his hair and looked at her in surprise. “What’s wrong with my hair? You don’t bug Micah about getting a haircut, and his is longer than mine.”

“Because he looks good with long hair. You don’t.”

“Ouch,” he grumbled, shooting Micah a resentful glare.

She shook her head. “I swear you both need a woman to keep you in line. And I wish you’d hurry up and find one so I can stop babysitting your asses.”

“Or you could just volunteer for the job full time,” Micah said, shooting her another sexy look. Damn the man.

“I don’t think John would appreciate you propositioning his woman,” Nathan said dryly.

Faith tensed for a minute and sat back in her chair. “Uh, about John.”

Two sets of curious gazes focused intently on her.

“Is something wrong, Faith?” Micah asked. All the teasing had dropped from his voice, and now he sat forward, his face drawn into complete and utter seriousness.

She’d forgotten how protective they could be. That was usually Connor’s job. As much as Micah and Nathan liked to tease, they still watched over her like a hawk.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said, injecting the right amount of lightness into her voice. “It’s just that John and I won’t be seeing each other anymore.”

Nathan raised his brow in silent question.

“Relax. It was my decision,” she said. “It just wasn’t working. And don’t you go interrogating him.”

Another blush worked its way up her neck. The last thing she wanted was John to share the reasons for their breakup with Micah and Nathan.

“And for God’s sake don’t tell Connor,” she muttered.

They both hooted with laughter.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Micah said, an evil gleam in his eye. “I won’t rat you out if you don’t rat me out for smoking.”

She blew out her breath in annoyance. “You’re such a manipulator.”

He grinned. “But you love me.”

She smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Yes, I love you. Now get out of my office. I’ve got work to do. And so do you two clowns.” She checked her watch. “Pop’s going to have a coronary if he finds out you’re both here and not out on the job.”

The phone rang, and her stomach fell. She reached over to pick up the receiver but hesitated, willing the sick nervousness to abate. When she noticed Micah and Nathan looking suspiciously at her, she swallowed and yanked up the phone.

“Malone’s.”

Pop’s gravelly voice barreled through the line. “Faith, tell those two lug nuts to get their asses out of your office and out to the job they’re supposed to be doing.”

She burst out laughing, her relief nearly overwhelming. “Good morning to you too.”

He chuckled in her ear. “Good morning. Things going okay at the office?”

“Sure thing. You going to be around for lunch?”

He sighed regretfully. “No, Connor, Gray and I will get something out. This security system is acting all wonky, so I think we’ll be here awhile.”

“Okay, Pop, I’ll see you when I see you then.”

They rang off, and she replaced the receiver, still chuckling.

“Yeah, yeah,” Micah grumbled as he shoved himself out of his seat. “I could hear Pop all the way over here. I swear he has this place bugged.”

Nathan laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past the old fart.”

They waved at Faith then trudged out of her office. Quiet descended over the building. She leaned way back in her chair and stared at the ceiling.

Three years. For three years she’d lived an idyllic life. At times it was hard to remember the years before Pop and Connor had come for her. Then Pop had adopted her. Yeah, sure, she was an adult. A woman full grown, but she’d burst into tears when he’d told her of his desire to adopt her and legally make her his daughter. It was the first true sense of belonging she’d experienced.

And now her circle had grown to Nathan and Micah. It was an atmosphere she was comfortable in. Finally at home. Now if only her mother would fall off the face of the earth.

She eyed the phone, willing it to stay silent.

With a sound of disgust, she whirled around in her chair and stood. She would not allow her mother to ruin her day, week, month…okay year.

She stalked out of her office and made her rounds to the other offices to collect outgoing mail. When she had a sizable pile, she lumped it onto her desk to wait for the mail carrier. Then she busied herself going over the new job contracts, flagging the ones that needed Pop’s signature.

At noon, she pulled out the lunch she’d brought from home and ate it while fielding phone calls from potential clients. Micah called to say he and Nathan wouldn’t be back into the office and would be working late. Then Pop called to tell her to go home early and that he’d lock up when he came through later in the afternoon.

She smiled as she hung up. Pop always seemed to know when she wasn’t her best. He never asked intrusive questions, but he worried over her just the same. That kind of unconditional love was comforting.

The phone rang again, and she picked it up, expecting to hear Pop again. He usually got sidetracked when he called and would forget what he’d called for in the first place. Which precipitated an immediate call back ninety percent of the time.

“Malone’s,” she said cheerfully, prepared to tease Pop.

“Faith, baby, we need to talk.”

Faith closed her eyes, and her lunch burned a hole in her stomach.

“Faith, are you there? I need to talk to you.”

“I’m here,” Faith said faintly.

“I need some money,” her mother said, forgoing her usual cajoling. “I’m in a bind, baby.”

“I can’t help you this time,” Faith gritted out. “I’d appreciate it if you would quit calling.”

A shocked silence fell between them. “Faith, you don’t mean that. I’m your mother. You can’t just cut me out of your life. I need your help. You can’t turn away from me. After all I’ve done for you.”

Rage curdled Faith’s system. Her vision blurred as the anger built. “All you’ve done for me? You’ve got a hell of a lot of nerve, Celia. What have you ever done for me? I’m happy now. I have a nice life. Without you. I can’t help you. I won’t help you. Not this time. Not ever again. Please don’t call me again.”

She slammed the phone down, her breath coming in ragged spurts. Her hands trembled, and she felt dangerously close to vomiting. She closed her mouth and sucked in deep breaths through her nose, willing the nausea to pass.

When her stomach settled, she surged up from her chair, making a grab for her keys and purse. She needed some air. Needed to get away before she succumbed to the urge to start throwing things.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-21