Sweet Surrender (Sweet #1)(41)

With a firm set to her lips, she poured a cup of coffee for Gray, snatched up a donut and headed for his office. If he’d locked her out, so help her God, she’d have someone break the door down.

It wasn’t locked, but it was still difficult for her to navigate the door with her hands full. As she elbowed her way in, Gray looked up from his desk.

“What the hell are you trying to do, burn yourself?” he exclaimed as he rushed around to take the coffee from her faltering fingers.

She slapped the donut on his desk and leveled a glare at him. “I was being nice. Friendly. You know, sociable. Something I can’t say for you.”

He swallowed hard and emitted a weary sigh. “Look, Faith, it’s best…it’s best if we just forget Friday night ever happened. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am that I stepped over the line like that.”

She narrowed her eyes and put a hand on her hip. “Well, I’m not.”

He blinked in confusion. “You’re not what?”

“I’m not sorry,” she said through gritted teeth. She planted both palms on his desk and leaned over until they were eye to eye. “You pretending it didn’t happen doesn’t make it true. It happened, Gray, and I want to talk about more than just forgetting it. I can’t forget it.”

He cupped her chin in his hand. “Faith, let it go. Please. Nothing good can come of us rehashing it. I wanted to teach you a lesson. I didn’t like the idea of you being in there. You’re a sweet girl. I like you a lot. I hope to hell you never go back. You weren’t supposed to like it.”

Flames scorched up her neck until her head threatened to boil over and explode.

Sweet girl. Teach a lesson. I like you a lot. What the effing hell was all that hogwash?

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. She was honest to God too pissed to formulate a coherent or even an incoherent sentence.

Finally she threw up her hands and made an arrggg sound before she stormed out of his office. By the time she made it back to the front, she was seething. Micah made a quick escape once he got a look at her. Smart guy.

Once he was out, she did something she rarely ever did. She shut her office door, a clear beacon to anyone not to enter. She could count on one hand the times she’d resorted to such drastic measures since coming to work for Pop. Now certainly qualified as a necessary time.

She tossed the donuts in the trash and poured the coffee down the drain, never mind that the others hadn’t been the one to piss her off. But they’d suffer her wrath just like Gray.

When she was through with her huff, she flopped into her swivel chair and turned her gaze up to the ceiling.

She needed a vacation. A break. Something. Between her mother driving her to drink, her foray into a risqué sex club, and Gray driving her crazy, she was ready for the white suits to come bearing an I-love-me jacket and take her to a padded cell.

Running away wasn’t something she’d ever been tempted to do. All her life, she’d stuck with it, even when sticking with it meant supporting an incompetent mother and her many vices. No, Faith wasn’t a quitter. She had too much work ethic ingrained in her. Closest she’d ever come to running away from anything was when her mother had overdosed and Pop and Connor had come and all but dragged her home with them.

But now? Getting away from the insanity that had become her life in the past few weeks was vastly appealing. Maybe she should hit Pop up for some vacation time. She knew he’d grant it in a heartbeat, because she’d never taken any.

“Quit overreacting,” she muttered.

A vacation did sound awfully good though. She’d definitely have to consider it.

A cautious tap sounded at her door, and she glared in that direction, wondering who the brave fool was who risked her wrath.

Nathan stuck his head in the door and glanced questioningly at her. “Mornin’, Faith. I ah, just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“PMS,” she said, knowing it was the one thing guaranteed to make him haul ass in the opposite direction. And she was right. He couldn’t get out fast enough.

She giggled when he shut the door in a nanosecond. Men were such pussies.

“So what the f**k did you do to piss Faith off? Apart from barge in on her night of hedonistic delight,” Micah said as he and Gray got into Micah’s truck to head to a job.

Micah fumbled around in the glove compartment and dragged out a pack of cigarettes. He flicked his lighter as he backed out of the parking lot then inhaled deeply, briefly closing his eyes.

“Guess you haven’t quit yet,” Gray observed.

Micah cracked his window and flicked his ashes. “Going to answer my question?” he asked, ignoring Gray’s statement.

Gray sighed. “I’m avoiding her, and apparently, it’s pissing her off.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Micah said dryly.

“It’s for the best.”

Micah took a long drag from his cigarette and looked mournfully at the glowing tip. “Damn things are going to kill me, but I spent too many years smoking on the job. Hard as hell to kick the habit.”

“Why’d you quit?” Gray asked curiously.

“The job or the cigarettes?” Micah joked.

Gray laughed.

Micah’s expression turned serious. “Just had enough.”

For a moment, Gray could swear he read deep sadness in Micah’s expression. Micah tossed the cigarette out the window and immediately reached for another. His fingers shook as he fumbled with the lighter. Gray sensed there was a lot more to it than he’d “had enough,” but he didn’t feel comfortable prying, and Micah didn’t seem inclined to offer further explanation.