Chapter 23: Fighting Mr. Knight: Chapter 23

The ball flies past the fifth hole, bounces and disappears into the trees. It’s Sunday afternoon golf with my two best mates, and besides their relentless piss-taking, it’s my favourite part of the week.

As of late, I’ve been slack in attending, instead spending Sundays on construction sites.

Tristan lets out a low whistle. “In ten years of us playing golf, that’s the worst yet. I hope you’re suitably mortified.”

“You’re losing your touch, Knight.” Danny laughs.

“It’s my big blue balls,” I grumble as Danny lines up to take his shot. “They’re getting in the way of everything.”

The ball lands just shy of the hole. He turns to me in satisfaction. “Looks like my balls are just fine.”

“I must shake Bonnie’s hand when I next see her.” Tristan watches me with amusement. “Finally, a woman who doesn’t want to jump in bed after Knight winks.”

“She does want to sleep with me,” I mutter dryly. “She practically begged me to on Friday night.”

Tristan looks at me in confusion as he lines his feet up into position. “Then why do you have blue balls?” His club connects with the ball and our eyes follow the ball down the course where it lands just shy of the hole. Too bloody close.

I glare at them. “I’m trying to court the woman, and she’s treating me like a sex toy—that’s bloody well why. She’s after a one-night stand.”

They both laugh.

“It’s not funny,” I snap. “I’m being the perfect gentleman. Well, except for the lapse in judgement in my office, but that was her fault for poking her nipples at me.” I sigh. “I can’t win.”

Danny chuckles. “Your reputation really does precede you.”

“So, what does she want from me? How do I woo the damn woman?”

Tristan eyes me seriously. “She probably doesn’t trust you. With everything she hears about you, she’s got no reason to.”

“And the lass got ditched by her fiancé,” Danny adds. “She’s been through a rough ride. Anyone would have trust issues after that.”

I nod. “This week was supposed to be her wedding day. Wednesday. Sean warned me.”

Danny frowns. “Only obnoxious people arrange a wedding on a Wednesday.”

“Max wanted to keep the cost down. It was meant to be in Italy. I guess when you’re on holiday it doesn’t matter what day it is.”

“Is she still hung up on Max?” Tristan asks.

“Why would she be?” I scoff. “I’m much more charming. I’ve got a massive dick and she knows it. Her eyes fell out of her head when she saw it.”

“You have to be more to her than a massive dick.” Danny smirks. “So does Max know you’re trying to get with his ex?”

“I couldn’t give a fuck what Max knows,” I say flatly. “We’re not mates. I just know him through Sean and the project. Besides, he ran off with some intern.”

He cocks a brow. “I admire your restraint for not going after her before this.”

I shrug. “I don’t break up relationships. No matter how much I want to.” It’s the one thing Dad and I don’t have in common. That, and the fact that I’m alive.

“You’ll get there.” He smiles. “I sensed she liked you at the wedding. Even if she doesn’t want to. You two are a good match.” He tosses me my golf bag to go to the next hole.

I catch a flash of red on his thumb. “What the hell is that? Are you wearing nail polish?”

He glances down at his thumb nail, painted red. “Yeah. The twins like to experiment on me.”

I scrunch my nose up in disgust. “Why didn’t you take it off before you came out?”

“Do I look like I give a fuck, mate?” He hits me with a glare. “I haven’t slept in three years. I’ll be their doll during the day if they let me sleep at night. Anyway, you think I know how to get this stuff off?”

Tristan and I exchange glances and laugh. Danny Walker, ruthless tech tycoon, has given all his power to three-year-old twin girls.

I study the thumb nail job. “They didn’t do a very good job.”

He frowns. “Not according to them.” There’s no mistaking the warmth under the layers of grumpiness.

Something surprising hits me right in the chest.

I’m jealous.

***

Eighteen holes and three beverages later, we’re sitting in the club bar when I see someone’s name flash on my phone that puts a bad taste in my mouth.

Fuck’s sake.

“Are you going to stare at that or answer it?” Danny asks, looking up from his newspaper. “Who is it?”

“Damon Manning.”

I learned the hard way it’s better to know what the smarmy git wants because it usually means a story on me is going to press.

“Knight,” Damon Manning booms cheerfully as I answer.

“Manning.”

“How are you?”

“Busy,” I reply. “You?”

“Can’t complain. We should have drinks soon.”

Like hell, we will. “I’m in the middle of something. What’s up?”

“I heard Wicks had a change of heart.”

I stiffen. Tristan and Danny eye me curiously. “What are you talking about?”

“He wants to see you about your old man.”

How the fuck does he know?

“Come on, Knight. My sources never let me down. Work with me here. I can help you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” I say dryly.

He continues, undeterred. “I’m used to getting info out of people. I can help you talk to Wicks.”

“I don’t think so, Manning,” I snap. “You’re not getting an exclusive out of me.”

He chuckles. Insults wash over tabloid journalists like water. “You know it’ll go to press, anyway, right? It’s better if you have control.”

“The news must be slow today if you’re sniffing around a decade-old murder and a guy already in jail about to snuff it.”

Manning chuckles down the phone again. “The Wicks family always makes headlines. As do you, Knight. It’s a good combo when the news is quiet.”

“I’m not your fucking entertainment, Manning.” I snap my phone shut.

Tristan and Danny watch me in silence.

Danny clears his throat. “When are you visiting him in prison?”

I fire the phone on the table and clench my hand into a fist. “I’m in a queue. Turns out Donnie Wicks is a popular guy.”

Tristan watches me for a few seconds. “Just be careful, mate. The press has got wind of this and Donnie Wicks is the one person you see red over.”