Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale) (2 page)

Gasping softly, he yanked his hand away from hers, frowning, but helpless to drop her eyes without offering some hope.

“I, uh, I know the head of human resources. Give me a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.”

With a last glance at Ryan, he muttered the word
fuck
, then turned and walked away.

***

Verity watched the knight go, his long legs putting distance between them, his horned helmet making him easy to track through the crowd. For all of his Nordic good looks, he was dark and brooding, edgy and male.

A sexy beast.

Though she’d already decided his face wouldn’t be gracing the cover of
GQ
anytime soon, he oozed sex. Overtly. Effortlessly. Like if you pricked him with a pin, he wouldn’t bleed red, he’d bleed orgasm.

Her heart thumped wildly. Her hand was still warm from his touch. The effect he had on her was altogether . . .
breathtaking
.

“Ver’ty?” murmured Ryan, his deep voice uncertain. “We gettin’ jobs now?”

She cleared her throat and blinked, turning to look up at her brother. Ryan was eight years her senior, and at thirty-two years old, traces of silver had just started appearing at his temples. His eyes were the same sky-blue as hers, but his nose was bulbous and his lips were shiny. Shiny, because he was nervous and kept licking them.

“I hope so, Ryan.” She reached out and patted him on the arm. “You remember what I told you?”

He held up three beefy fingers with scrubbed-clean nails. “Use my pleases and thank-yous. Look people in the eyes. No mumblin’.”

“That’s right,” she said, taking a deep breath and letting her hand slide from his forearm. “That’s right.”

She turned to follow the dark, sexy knight with her eyes, watching as he threaded his way through the job applicants jamming the far aisle, his tall, broad Viking body unexpectedly graceful as he wove around the people in his path until he reached a table toward the back of the room.

He placed his hands on his hips, and a gray-haired lady at the table looked up at him, straightening her glasses as she listened to whatever he was saying. Verity stared, her stomach in knots as the woman pursed her lips and shook her head dismissively. But Colton leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the table and drawing closer to the woman. Not immune to his masculine body so close to hers, the woman’s eyes lost some of their pinch, softening as she glanced over at the doorway where Verity and Ryan waited. After a moment she rolled her eyes and sighed, giving Colton a reluctant nod.

Verity gulped, wondering what had just transpired between the two and why he’d just advocated on their behalf. He didn’t even know her, and she was fairly certain that she’d annoyed him during their short exchange, since he’d cursed when he walked away. He owed her nothing, and yet he’d gone out of his way to help them. It made sentimental tears prick her eyes as she watched him turn around and face them. He held up one hand and beckoned them over.

Blinking her eyes and straightening her spine, Verity turned to her brother, reaching out to smooth his shirt.

“Ryan, you listening to me?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

She leaned up on tiptoes and smoothed down his cowlick. “We gotta make this happen. You hear?”

“Make it happen.”

“Look at me in the eyes, Ryan.”

He looked at her, his lips tilting up into a ready smile that she couldn’t resist returning. “You look real professional. Real nice. You answer any questions politely. No mumbling. Only speak when you’re spoken to, okay?”

“I know, Ver’ty.”

“I know you know,” she said. “I’m just nervous. We need these jobs, Ryan. We need them, or else . . .”

His eyes, which had been unguarded and cheerful, filled with dread. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he searched her face with a childlike dismay.

“I don’t like ‘or else,’” he said softly.

“Me neither, Ryan. Me neither. So you follow all my instructions, okay?”

He nodded, and she grinned at him, but he still looked fearful.

“Show me your best smile, huh? My favorite one.”

He smiled back at her on command, the dismay fleeing as quickly as it had arrived, his shiny teeth sparkling and white, and she thanked the Lord that her parents had taken such good care of Ryan’s teeth while they’d been alive.

“That’s my guy,” she said. “Now follow me.”

As she walked slowly toward the table where Colton waited, she said a quiet prayer in her head:
Dear God, please help me and Ryan both get jobs at
The Legend of Camelot,
where I can look out for him and we can still make some good money. I’ve done my best since Momma and Daddy passed on, but as you know, sweet Jesus, my luck has never been any good. Help. Please help. Amen.

Goats leaped in her tummy as she drew closer to the knight, her hands sweating like she’d drenched them under a spigot, but she fixed a confident, serene smile on her face as she approached the table, stopping beside Colton and sparing a quick look at her brother before offering her hand to the woman behind the table.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Verity.”

“So I’ve heard,” said the woman, ignoring her hand and sizing her up with a sour expression, “but there is
no way
you worked as a server at
Medieval Times
. You’re far too small.”

Verity’s eyes shot to Colton’s, widening with surprise at his lie. She’d never said that she worked at
Medieval Times
. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before releasing it and narrowed his eyes at the lady behind the table.

“Didn’t say she was a server. Said she
worked there
, Lynette. You were a, uh, a cashier, weren’t you?”

Before Verity could answer, Lynette snapped, “Well, I wouldn’t have told them to come over if I knew that. Don’t
have
a cashier job open.”

“Sure you do,” countered Colton, glancing down at the applications on her desk. “You said you did before.”

“It’s an
ADA job
,” said Lynette, frowning up at him. “If I don’t hire a disabled person for the job, we don’t get the tax credit.” She flicked a look at Verity. “And you don’t look disabled, honey. Small, yes. Wheelchair, no.”

At the mention of the Americans with Disabilities Act, a lightbulb went off in Verity’s head. She twisted her neck to catch Colton’s eyes, and he nodded just slightly at her—enough for Verity to know that he’d planted the idea in her head and now was her chance to run with it.

“. . . so, I’m sorry,” Lynette was saying, “but I don’t think—”

“This is my brother, Ryan,” interrupted Verity, stepping aside so that Lynette could see him clearly.

Ryan, who heard his name and knew his line, stuck out his hand and grinned at the woman sitting in annoyance behind the table. “I’m Ryan. Pleased to meetcha.”

“Ahhh, yes. Nice to meet you,” said Lynette, taking his catcher’s mitt of a hand in her own and pumping it once before letting go. She eyed him warily, then looked down, shuffling the papers on her table. “Now, I’m sorry, but—”

“I’m Ryan’s guardian,” said Verity quickly. “His
legal
guardian.”

Lynette looked up, her expression caught between confusion and surprise. “O-kay.”

“He’s legally incompetent,” she continued, trying her best to keep her voice steady and her hopes reined in, “which means that he could fulfill your ADA requirements.”

“Huh,” said Lynette, cocking her head to the side and giving Ryan a shrewd look. He smiled at her, rocking back and forth and offering a small wave. Finally she turned back to Verity. “Don’t get me wrong. He seems real sweet, but can he . . . I mean, can he handle a cash register in a busy gift shop?”

Verity’s hopes plummeted. There was no point in lying. “No.”

The HR woman looked at Ryan, answering his wide grin with a reluctant but sympathetic grimace. “I’m sorry, honey, but—”

“Joe needs help in the stable,” said Colton from beside Verity. He took a step closer to her, and she could feel the height and breadth of his physical presence behind her, filling her stomach with critters but making her feel so much less alone. “Scooter left two weeks ago. You need to hire a replacement to help with the horses.”

“We’re not recruiting for that job today,” said Lynette, her tone leaving annoyance and heading quickly toward frank irritation.

“I
like
horses,” said Ryan, nodding enthusiastically.

“He does. Been around ’em for most of his life too” said Verity. Lynette sighed loudly, tilting her head to the side with exasperation. But she didn’t say no, which made Verity continue. “And Ryan’s real good at taking directions, ma’am. He’d be on time every day. I’d be sure of it. He doesn’t take breaks. He doesn’t waste time. You give him a job, he does it. You give him another job, he does that one too. Best employee you’d ever have. I promise. If you’d just give him a chance to show—”

Lynette held up her hands. “I wish I could, but it’s just not—”

“Come on, Lynette,” said Colton, his gravelly voice rumbling as he gestured to the older woman’s bosom. “Ain’t there a heart somewhere in there?”

Lynette jerked her face toward Colton’s, her expression murderous. “Come on,
what
? Joe would have my hide if I hired someone without his say-so. He’s been in charge of the livestock at the castle for fifteen years—ever since the Atlanta location opened. You think he’s going to be okay with me showing up with . . . with . . .” She gestured to Ryan loosely, and Verity felt her temper flare.

“Ryan,” said Verity, flint in her voice. “His name is
Ryan
.” She turned to face her brother, “Come on. Let’s go.”

“But Ver’ty,” he said, his smile fading. “You said we
need
this job.”

She gulped. “We’ll find something else.”

Behind her, Colton was talking about how he would talk to Joe and smooth things over, but Lynette was unmoved, shaking her head and repeating the word
no
.

Verity faced her brother. “No, Ryan. Not here. We’ll just—”

“—find somewhere to work that doesn’t
discriminate
against
disabled people
,” said Colton
way
too loudly from behind her. He amped it up a little more to add, “Like
Medieval Times
. Or the
Tournament of Kings
. Or
Excalibur Nights
.”

Verity whirled around to face him just as Lynette gasped in outrage, springing to her feet. “
TL’oC
does
not
discriminate!”

“All evidence to the contrary,” said Colton, folding his massive arms over his chest.

Lynette flicked her glance to the tables on either side, where her fellow recruiters looked on in curiosity, then lifted her chin. “I can’t—”

“Yeah,” said Colton firmly. “You can.”

Lynette clenched her jaw, turning to Verity with narrowed eyes before nailing Colton with an angry scowl. “If this doesn’t work out—”

“It will,” he said softly, nodding once, his steel-gray eyes unwavering.

Finally, out of options, Lynette turned back to Verity. “Your brother’s name is . . .?”

“Ryan,” she said, curling her fingers into fists, indignation giving way to hope.

Lynette fixed a fake smile on her face and turned to him, her voice suddenly laced with honey. “Ryan, how’d you like to work with horses, honey?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “I
like
animals. Lots.”

“Well,” said Lynette with a sniff, her forced smile quickly fading as she sat down in annoyed surrender, “with Ryan coming on as stablehand, at least we meet our ADA requirement.”

“But you still need a gift shop cashier,” said Colton, flicking a glance at Verity. “Right?”

Verity held her breath, eyes fixed on Lynette, who stared daggers (and swords and lances and javelins) at Colton.

“Very well,” she said tightly, glancing at the ogling recruiter for
My Big Fat Greek Wedding Dinner Theater
before offering Verity a frosty smile. “
The Legend of Camelot
would like to offer you a job as well, Miss . . .?”

“Verity Gwynn,” she said.

“Verity Gwynn,” mimicked Lynette, sitting down with a humph. She pulled two applications from a pile to her left and handed them to Verity. “Fill these out. You start this week. Monday. Eight a.m. The castle on—”

“Peachtree! I know where it is!” she said, taking the applications from Lynette and beaming at the prickly older woman.

She didn’t care why and she didn’t care how.

They had jobs!

Verity couldn’t help the pure rush of hopeful joy that warmed her from within. And when she slid her eyes to Colton’s face, damn if she didn’t catch the glow of shining armor brightening his tarnished gray eyes.