by Erika Kelly
Like front row seating to the spectacle of the Grand Teton mountain range, the cushioned chairs formed a half-circle around the fire pit. On the brick lip, he saw a lit candle, a plate of food, a wine bottle, and one wine glass. One.
Why did the idea of Knox being alone make his stomach hurt?
Stepping onto the patio, he stopped when he saw her dancing like a wild woman. Her wavy, dark hair shimmied and gleamed in the early twilight. In her fist, she held her phone with white wires branching out and leading to her ears. She whispered the lyrics, the soles of her slippered feet scraping on the stone patio.
He’d washed his hands of her seven years ago, the moment he’d understood she was to him what drugs were to Robert. It had been the harshest reality he’d ever faced, knowing he was as messed up as his friend, caught in the unrelenting, sucking pull of unrequited love.
But watching her dance like this—just as she’d done every time a good song had come on the radio—in the bunkhouse, on the trail, in his Jeep—it all came flooding back.
Not good, man. Not good at all.
Fact: she’s only here because you screwed up her career. Stick to business.
He glanced at the plate of food she’d set on the edge of the fire pit—thick slabs of sausage, wedges of cheese, and neatly cut slices of baguette. He’d followed Fin’s training program for months, and his mouth watered for some real food. Without even thinking, he headed toward it, hungry for a taste of that cheese and bread—
“Jesus!” Knox yanked out her earbuds and slapped a palm over her heart. “What’re you doing here?”
He stood there, frozen, like he’d landed on his back on hard ice and gotten the wind knocked out of him. Everything about her—her hair, wild and loose, her toned, feminine legs in black leggings, even the slouchy sweater covering the parts he most wanted to see—was stunning.
And she was pissed that he’d intruded on her privacy. Right. His default lazy smile slid into place. “Got some good news.”
“You scared the crap out of me.”
“I texted you I was on my way over.”
“I haven’t looked at my messages since everyone left for the day.”
“Sorry ‘bout that.” He shrugged. “I knocked and shouted. Did everything but burn the place down.” He stacked cheese and sausage on a slice of fresh baguette and shoved it in his mouth.
Setting the phone down next to the plate, she flopped into a chair. She raised one eyebrow and said, “Help yourself.”
“Thanks. I’m starved.” He reached for her glass and drank some of the wine. “Nice.”
“It’s yours. Not many people have a wine cellar in a bunkhouse.”
“Callie’s brother got married here in June. We classed the place up.”
She took in the slate patio, the barbecue station, and fire pit. “You sure did.”
“So. You took on my brothers this morning.” Not many people had the confidence to stand up to them like that. “Impressive.”
“Well, I didn’t like the way they made you out to be the bad guy. I mean, I was there. I saw—”
“I know you were.” One thing he could count on back then: Knox Holliday cheering him on in the audience. “You remember that electric guitar you got me?”
“Of course.” Her features turned pink.
“I’d asked my dad for one for my birthday.”
Her lips pressed together in disapproval. “I couldn’t believe he didn’t get it for you.”
All through his birthday dinner, he’d had his eyes on the big, long box waiting for him. His spirits had soared, certain his dad had gotten him what he’d wanted. Damn, it had sucked when he’d opened it to find a new snowboard. “So, for Christmas, you got me one.”
“It was just a cheap thing from a thrift store in Jackson.”
She could make light of it all she wanted. It had meant the world to him. “Still have it.”
“You do?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“I’m glad.” That soft smile hit him as viscerally as if she’d reached out and touched him.
“Okay, I came bearing news about the fabric situation.”
“Yeah?” She tried so hard not to expose her fears and anxieties. A survival technique, for sure. Can’t let the bullies see you vulnerable. He just wished she knew she didn’t have to be anything other than herself around him.
Because there’d never been a single thing about her he hadn’t liked and respected. “We got the appointment.”
“You did? How?”
“Conference call with the owner and Mrs. Granger.”
“That was pretty ballsy for a guy who makes socks.”
He burst out laughing. “That’s going on my headstone. Here lies Gray Bowie. Ballsy…for a guy who makes socks.” He sandwiched sausage and cheese between baguette slices and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.
With her legs curled under her on the big chair, she watched while he chewed and swallowed. “Are you a snake?”
“I’m hungry.” He grabbed a napkin and swiped his mouth. “So. We leave tomorrow, and meet him on Wednesday at noon. Mrs. Granger will meet us there.”
Her hand spasmed—just the tiniest bit—but enough for the wine to slosh over the rim of her glass and spill on her leg. Damn, well, guess that answers that question. Her reaction meant she was still tied up emotionally in Robert.
She reached for a napkin. “That was stupid.” She patted the damp spots on her leggings.
“Why’re you so worried about seeing her?”
“No matter what you say, she can’t think well of me for taking off the way I did. Not when her son was finally getting the help he needed. It was a shitty thing to do.”
“All I can tell you is she smiled when I mentioned your name.” If he was this disappointed, it meant that somewhere, deep down, he still held out hope for them.
Why couldn’t he get over this woman?
“Have you stayed in touch with Robert?” She tried to sound casual.
“I’ve seen him, but, no. We haven’t stayed in touch. What about you?” He held his breath, and he wanted to punch his own face for even caring about this shit.
“My mom said he came straight to our house after getting out of rehab.” She shook her head as if to say it hadn’t gone well. “In her usual in-your-face style, she told him to let me go. To ‘give Knox a chance in life.’” She tried for a smile. “As you can expect, he didn’t like hearing that. He lit into her about the way she’d raised me, said that I wouldn’t have had to rely on him if I’d had a mother who’d looked out for me. It was ugly. I’m glad I wasn’t there.” She went quiet, and he knew what came next. He knew his role well.
Man, he did not want to be the window into her fucking ex-boyfriend. Why is he acting like this? Did you see him with Shauna at the party? Where is he? He’s not answering his phone.
Kill me now. But, of course, he was the asshole who was going to feed the beast. He didn’t think he’d ever denied Knox anything she’d ever wanted.
But, surprisingly, in the shrug of her shoulders, he didn’t read any interest. Or even guilt. “Took me a while, but I got it.” She looked right at him. “You were right. I wasn’t doing him any favors by cleaning up his messes.” Then, fiddling with the hem of her slouchy sweater, she said, “Where did you go? Did you even graduate?”
“Of course.” In the dwindling twilight, a purple haze had settled over the towering spires of the mountain range. “They were used to us taking off for competitions. That part was easy.”
“Oh, I’m sure it was.” She said it under her breath, but he heard her.
“What was that?”
“I said, I’m sure it was easy for you.”
She was pissed at him? “I just accepted things before you did.”
“Well, you had other people. Your dad, your uncle, your brothers. You had a huge support network. I had my mom and Robert.”
It was like taking a trowel and scooping out whole pieces of his heart. He hate
d that she’d had no one but an unreliable drug addict.
“When my mom told me about Robert’s visit, I couldn’t even live with myself. It was like I could feel him, you know? His shock, his hurt. The betrayal. Who did he have other than me? How could I have just abandoned him?”
Incredibly, she wasn’t looking at him like she used to—like she wanted answers. A way to resolve complicated feelings. It was more recounting an old story. Dispassionate.
“Especially since he’d finally gotten clean,” Gray said. “That was all you’d ever wanted from him. A chance to have a real relationship.”
“Actually, what I figured out…finally, was that I wasn’t in love with Robert. I loved him, I certainly needed him. I thought…” Her finger circled the edge of her wine glass. “Well, I was afraid if I didn’t reward him for rehab, he’d go right back to using. But, not for a second did I think, Oh, thank God, we can finally be together.”
That was interesting. Not in love? And she hadn’t wanted to get back with him?
Leaning forward, she set her glass down and clasped her hands in her lap. “I was as messed up as he was.”
Whoa—that right there—he’d waited a long damn time to hear that.
“And the reason I didn’t talk to him after he got out is because I wanted to be free. I don’t regret it, not contacting him. It took a while to make peace with it, but I never missed him. As you once said, it wasn’t like he’d been a true friend in a very long time. I hope he’s clean and sober and living a good life, but that’s it.”
Seven years ago, that comment would have been a prompt to get information out of him. Was it still? “You want to know if he’s clean, but I can’t answer that.”
“You talked to Mrs. Granger. How could Robert not come up?”
“Because I was there to talk about you.”
“I know, but, come on. It’d be like the elephant in the room. You both had to be thinking about him.” She must’ve picked up his mounting frustration, because she broke into an embarrassed smile. “I guess I must feel a little guilty if I’m this worried about seeing his mom.”
He snatched another slice of bread and popped it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “Or maybe you’re worried it’ll lead to seeing him.” And how would that feel? He looked down at the slate patio, his gaze landing on a scattering of bread crumps. “He came to my dad’s funeral.”
Sitting up straighter, she reached for his arm. “I’m so sorry, Gray.”
When it came to his dad, it was like a big tangled ball of emotion. But one thing he knew, for sure. He missed him every single day.
Her fingers curled around his wrist. “That must’ve been the hardest thing for you.”
It took a lot of will power not to slide his arm back just enough to align their fingers. He’d always wanted to hold her hand. Maybe it was the symbolism of it—the gesture of easy intimacy. I’m yours. You’re mine.
But she wasn’t touching him because she couldn’t keep her hands off him. She was touching him because she felt bad about his loss. “It was.” The thing about losing his dad so unexpectedly was that he’d never had the chance to talk about the issues that bothered him. To ask the questions.
To tell his dad he loved him.
But he did have a fresh start with Knox, and that meant forging a new connection, one without the Robert Granger link. “Anyhow, we got the appointment, and we leave tomorrow.”
“We? You can’t go with me. Fin will lose his mind.”
“Yeah, well, in my world, they send us a few swatches, and then we put in an order. But Mrs. Granger said you’d want to see the fabric in person. So, it looks like I’ll be skipping a few days of training so you can touch it, roll around in it, and rub it all over your body. Wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
She lunged for the plate, snatched a piece of bread, and lobbed it at him. “Freak. I’m not rolling around in three-thousand-dollar-a-yard Chantilly lace. Though, she’s right. I do need to touch it, but I can go by myself.”
“You want to see Mrs. Granger on your own?”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“Awesome. Then, I guess you’re on your own.” With a mischievous grin, he started to get up.
“It’s not like I have a choice. Fin’s obviously worried about how much training you need to put in to catch up with the other competitors.”
He broke into a full grin. “I think I can miss a few days and still hold my own.”
“You sure about that? You’re looking a little slouchy. Might need to stay behind and work on your core.” She pinched the skin above her hip. “You don’t usually see muffin tops on Olympic athletes.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and damn it felt good. “Look, as the CEO of your company—”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Did you just give yourself a promotion?”
“It’s in my best interest to accompany you and check out this vendor, make sure he doesn’t take advantage of the pretty little fashion designer.”
“If you’d like to watch a professional in action, so you can learn a thing or two for your sock business, you’re welcome to tag along.” She lobbed a piece of sausage at him, and he nabbed it out of the air. “Because everyone needs a ninja travel companion.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
A brisk wind plastered Knox’s Army jacket to her back. Maui—an ocean away from the harsh mountain winds of Wyoming—had spoiled her. And it’s only the middle of September.
Crossing the tarmac, she shot a glance behind her to the Jetway. Still no Gray.
That’s okay. She didn’t need him on this trip. Besides, he’d gone above and beyond to right Amelia’s wrongs and, most importantly, he needed to stay here and train.
She could recite all the reasons he shouldn’t come, but none of them wiped away the disappointment of not getting to spend the next few days with him.
At the bottom of the stairs, she retracted the handle and then lifted her carry-on. The cold from the metal steps shot right through the soles of her black leather boots.
Didn’t take you long to fall right back into old patterns with him, though, did it? Gray, stepping in to fix her problems, making her feel like nothing mattered more than helping her out. Her, lapping it up like a rescued kitty, greedy for the attention.
And completely forgetting how easily he’d walked away from her and never looked back.
Stepping onto the plane, she set the suitcase down and pulled out the handle, waiting for the line of passengers to move forward. At least this time she understood him better. Hearing his conversation with his brothers had been eye-opening. Their lack of support for anything outside snow sports had given him an attitude of, why bother?
Which meant, any day now, he could flip the switch and go chasing after the next shiny new thing.
I mean, come on. He’s training for the Olympics, gets the call to go ride death-defying waves, and off he goes. If he doesn’t take his own career seriously—why would he stick around for mine?
It wasn’t like she needed him. She handled fabric vendors all the time. She’d done her research. Knew exactly how much material she’d need to buy for all her projects. Everything’s fine. Between the pop-up and the custom gowns, things were looking good.
“Good morning.” The flight attendant reached for her boarding pass and scanned it.
“Morning.” Knox rolled her suitcase down the narrow aisle. She didn’t have to go far. 2A. Gray had put her in first class. She’d have to talk to him about that. Then again, he’d figure it out on his own when he saw the price of lace and crystals. We’re not buying nylon.
Shoving her carry-on into the overhead compartment, she slid into her seat, too aware of the empty one beside her. Well, if he wasn’t coming, she might as well take the window view. She shifted over and watched the baggage handlers toss suitcases into the belly of the plane. Setting her phone on her jeans-clad thigh, she checked the time. The flight left in twenty minutes. It was cutting it cl
ose, but he could still make it.
Oh, stop it. He shouldn’t come. She swiped the screen, itching to tap out a message, but she wouldn’t do it. It would only make him feel guilty. Training had to be his priority.
Then stop looking at the door. She closed her eyes, making a promise to herself to disengage. No good could come out of relying on Gray Bowie. Think about Delilah, instead, who thought her sensational figure wouldn’t work in a sexy gown. Show her how awesome she’ll look.
Yes. She’d sketch, let the ideas flow until inspiration hit.
Delilah seemed to be drawn to the ultra-romantic, almost ethereal look of sheer tulle overlaid with floral lace. A bodice like that didn’t have support, but Knox could fix that by making it a V-neck, adding some boning—
“Hey.” Gray dropped a backpack and kicked it under the seat in front of him.
God, that voice. It traveled through her, all growly and deep, like dirty talk whispered in her ear. “You made it.” She didn’t know why that had popped out when she’d been thinking, Thank God.
He glanced behind him, stepping forward to allow a passenger by, and then reached for the bottom of his sweatshirt.
Knox’s blood started to drag in anticipation of what was to come. Not even bothering to anchor his T-shirt, Gray yanked the hemline up and over his head. The shirt flew up with it, exposing the flattest stomach and most obscenely ripped abs of anyone she’d ever seen.
He’d always had a good physique, but his high school body didn’t even compare with this powerhouse of a man. Flopping into his seat, he clipped his seatbelt. “You stole my window view.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it.” She gestured to the flight attendant. “Look, they’re closing the doors.”
“Had a late night.”
The Gray she’d known hadn’t partied. Which, of course, had enabled her to feel safe with him. Her mom was no addict, but she definitely liked her weed. She and her friends had a lot of “bake sales,” as her mom liked to call them. No one got out of hand, but the smell of pot, the look in the eyes of someone stoned, just…squicked her out.
It was something she and Gray had had in common back then. Had he changed? He certainly wouldn’t party before a competition, but maybe he’d lightened up and indulged afterwards?
