Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“Oh God,” he moaned.
“This is why we don’t touch people, ever, without consent, sir.”
“Call me Jonah.”
“This is why we don’t touch people, ever, without consent, Jonah.”
“No, I—I would never. I just—”
“You were trying to show her you were interested. I get it.”
“I’m normally so careful, I never—you have to believe me.”
“At least Mr. Somerset didn’t see.”
His head snapped up. “You were talking to him. What did you—”
“Not a word,” I affirmed, meeting his gaze. “Don’t make me regret that decision.”
“No, I—God,” he muttered under his breath, clearly disgusted by even the implication that he was interested in a seventeen-year-old. “I would never—could never—I—”
“Okay,” I soothed him. “Take a breath. My interference came purely from seeing her body language, and maybe her discomfort was because she’s never been in a situation where she had to assert herself and say no to a grown-up before.”
He shot me a look, and I snorted out a laugh. I couldn’t help it. I felt so much better talking to him instead of Mr. Somerset. It was probably his height and leaner build.
“She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there,” I told him.
“I missed all that,” he said miserably. “You saw it, but it was lost on me.”
“I get uncomfortable a lot myself,” I replied honestly, “so I know what that looks like.”
“This is so—I want to apologize to her.”
“If you want,” I said, taking in the picture of Janelle and her friends, all on their phones. “I can ask her over or you can go with me.”
He was quiet a moment. “How would that go? Between the makeup and how short the dress was, I thought you were twenty-three?”
I scoffed.
“Yeah, you see? It sounds like crap.”
It did.
His eyes searched mine. “Thank you again for running interference. That could have been infinitely worse than being laughed at by toddlers.”
“Be more careful,” I cautioned him. “And stay sober so you can read cues.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said quickly. “I want you to know that I’m not a bad—”
“Oh,” I said with a long, happy exhale. “Look who it is.”
The door had opened, and now, standing there, looking around, ignoring people who called out greetings to him, was my boss, Colton Gates.
It was impossible to miss him, at any time, in any place, for the simple reason that when he entered a room, it was hard to look away. He had been blessed genetically, and there was no doubt about that. Thick dirty-blond hair and gold eyes, which no one could see at the moment, were only two of his many gifts. Even standing there, with his aviators on, in the same clothes he’d worn all day at the shelter—a long-sleeve T-shirt under a flannel one, khakis, and a pair of thick-soled hiking boots that had to be at least a hundred years old—he had everyone riveted. I wondered how they’d feel about him if they knew it was quite possible that his boots were, in fact, ancient. The only things he didn’t buy at consignment stores were his underwear, sweats, sleep shorts, and T-shirts. All the rest was secondhand. He liked knowing that the shoes would be comfortable because someone else had broken them in. I found that horrifying. The few times I’d gone with him, I didn’t want to touch anything. I had a deathly fear of crabs and lice and bedbugs, and no amount of reassurance from him that everything in the store was freshly laundered made me worry any less.
I lifted my hand so he’d see me, and he immediately started across the room. And yes, I had felt better with Jonah than with Mr. Somerset, but seeing Colton, every drop of insecurity and fear ran off me like water.
When he reached me, I sighed again, deeply, so pleased to see him, but had to shake my head at the same time. Really? He couldn’t have changed?
“What?” he snarled the instant he was in front of me, seemingly furious to the untrained listener. I noted Jonah taking a step back in response, unmistakably intimidated by my boss.
“This is a catered dinner to thank everyone,” I explained, sounding tired, and pained, gesturing at Jonah in his black dress pants, black cashmere turtleneck, and black cap-toe Oxfords. “This is how we’re supposed to look in our boss’s home.”
“Thank you,” Jonah said softly, smiling at me. “You know, I’m losing my assistant to Drummond Bur—”
“No,” Colton snapped at him. “And you’ve got a lotta balls trying to poach my assistant.”
Jonah appeared startled and a bit scared. “I was kidding, Colton. I would nev—”
“Let’s go,” he barked at me.
“It’s Saturday night, Colton,” Jonah advised him, his gaze on me for a moment and then back on my boss. I got the feeling he thought he was saving me. “Whatever this is can probably wait until—”
“No,” he said again, his tone icy, grabbing my arm and turning toward the door.