A Girl Like Her - Talia Hibbert Page 0,46
count to ten. Then he counted back from ten to one.
By the time he’d regained control, Daniel was gone.
Thank God.
Zach stepped back, eyeing Evan wearily. “You good?”
“I’m fine.” He ran a hand over his face as if that would hide the lie. “Jesus. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”
The other man shook his dark head. “Come with me.”
Zach led him into the break room and shoved him into a chair, his hand hard on Evan’s shoulder. Hard enough to chase away the last dizzying dregs of rage.
“Take a breath,” Zach ordered. His voice, the familiar cadence of a command, soothed Evan. “I don’t know what that was about,” Zach said, “but I do know that beating the shit out of the boss’s son is not a good idea. For many, many reasons.”
Evan bore those words in mind, tightening his grip on his composure. “I know. I... thank you. For stopping me.”
“Stop thanking me. We both know I owe you more than that.”
Their gazes met for a moment. Just long enough for Evan to see more gratitude in the other man’s eyes than he’d ever expected.
It made Evan uncomfortable, when people thought they ‘owed’ him. He didn’t do the right thing for credit. He did it because he had to.
“You want a cuppa?” Zach asked suddenly.
“Yeah.” Evan’s shoulders relaxed. “Please.”
Zach turned toward the little kitchenette, filling up the kettle. Now that his back was to Evan, that desperate gratitude was invisible. Thank God. Its weight was suffocating.
“So you’ve got a girl,” Zach said. “And Daniel doesn’t like it.”
Evan let out a sigh. “I don’t know what his problem is. He’s married, isn’t he?”
“Daniel Burne has never let a little thing like marriage stop him from getting what he wants.” Zach fiddled with tea bags and grabbed milk from the fridge. “Who’s the girl?”
“Her name’s Ruth.”
Zach paused, every muscle in his broad back frozen. “Ruth Kabbah?” he asked, voice slightly incredulous.
Evan wished he could see the other man’s face.
Relaxing back in his seat, he crossed his arms to hide his clenching fists. “You gonna warn me off too?”
“No,” Zach said immediately. Like a robot rebooted, he began to move again. “I don’t judge,” he continued, voice mild. “That family’s never done me a wrong. Anyway, my brother’s got a criminal record, too, and—” He finally turned around, just in time to see the shock on Evan’s face. “Shit,” Zach said. “You didn’t know. I—”
Evan held up a hand. “Just… don’t say anything else.”
“I’m sorry, man—”
“Don’t. It’s fine.” His mind was flying in a thousand different directions, but none of those directions were Zach’s business.
Well; except one.
“You have a brother?” Evan asked, his voice stirring the cauldron of awkward air.
Zach nodded, looking relieved at the change of subject. “Yeah. You’ll meet him soon. He’s moving home again, because of...” Zach’s voice trailed off, his face darkening. But then he cleared his throat and continued. “It’s taking him some time. He’s down in London. Got two kids and a business to pack up.”
Evan smiled, and managed to mean it. “You’re an uncle?”
“Yeah,” Zach grinned. “Got a niece and a nephew.” He pulled out his phone and produced pictures with a pride that seemed almost parental.
Some of the images contained one child, some both. They shared Zach’s jet-black hair and blue eyes. Their father was in a few of the pictures; a man who looked like Zach with longer hair, more tattoos, and a hell of a scowl.
The children didn’t seem to mind the scowl, though; they clung to their dad like happy little monkeys. There were no other adults in any of the images.
“Is your brother a single parent?”
“Why? You interested?” Zach wiggled his brows.
Evan rolled his eyes.
“Oh, of course you aren’t,” Zach grinned. “You’ve got a Kabbah girl.”
“I haven't got anyone.” Evan gulped down his tea. “And we’re wasting a break gossiping like old men. Let’s go.”
Across the coffee table, the other man straightened his spine and gave a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain.”
“I’m not a captain,” Evan muttered.
“Ah, whatever.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Evan had insisted on taking Ruth’s number a while back, but he’d never used it.
Not until today.
Ruth stared at the two texts he’d sent in quick succession, trying to figure out if she should be nervous. The first said that he was leaving work and coming straight over. Which was weird. He didn’t text her when he left work, and he didn’t come straight over after work.
She should definitely be nervous.
Even though the second text said: It’s nothing bad, so