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The Landscaper (Working Men Series Book 6)

Page 8

by Ramona Gray


  I pushed that thought out of my mind and glanced at Max who, despite his size, had curled up on the cushion at the other end of the couch and was snoring loudly.

  Knox followed my gaze. “I had to banish him from my bedroom at night because of the snoring.”

  “He is super loud,” I said with a laugh.

  Knox slipped his hands under my shirt and kneaded my bare thighs. “Now that the world’s worst alien invasion movie is finished, what do you want to do?”

  I shrugged and ran my thumbs over his flat nipples. “What do you want to do?”

  “Well, we could try and find another alien invasion movie on Netflix that tops the stupidity of that one, or we could go back to your room, I’ll eat your pussy and then see if I can find your g-spot.”

  He leaned forward and licked my throat and I moaned happily. “Option B, please.”

  “Are you sure?” He licked my throat again before nibbling on my collarbone. “I know how much you like your cheesy alien invasion movies.”

  His big hand slid up from my thigh and cupped my naked breast. He teased my nipple as I arched my back and shook my head. “No, I’m good with going back to the bedroom. I don’t -”

  I cocked my head and stared at the doorway to the living room. “Did you hear something?”

  Knox kissed my jaw before sucking on my earlobe. He rubbed his hard cock against my pussy. “No.”

  “Are you sure?” I strained to hear over the sound of Max’s snoring. “It sounded like the front door.”

  Knox cupped my head and turned my face toward his. “I didn’t hear anything, baby.” He kissed me, and I moaned and slid my tongue between his lips, rocking myself against the thick bulge in his jeans as he sucked on my tongue.

  “This is why you should just move in with me permanently, Luna. It’s the third fucking gas leak in your building in the last two weeks and…holy shit.”

  I tore my mouth from Knox’s, my heart dropping into my stomach and dismay flooding my veins as my brother’s voice filled the living room. I stared at Asher and Luna, still straddling Knox with his hands hot on my hips and his harsh breath matching the frenetic rhythm of mine.

  “What the fuck, asshole?” Asher glared at Knox, and Luna grabbed his arm.

  “Ash,” Knox’s voice was remarkably steady for someone whose worst fear had just come true, “I can explain.”

  “You let your fucking dog on my couch? What the hell is wrong with you? Now it’s gonna have dog hair all over it.” Ash made a disgusted noise before clapping his hands. “Yo, dog, off my couch. Now.”

  Max woke with a loud snort and blinked at Asher and Luna. He yawned, and then slowly climbed off the couch. His nub of a tail waving madly, he meandered over to them and leaned against Luna. She giggled and petted his big blocky head.

  “Aw, he’s so cute. Asher, we should get a dog.”

  “No way.” Asher petted Max’s head. “I hate dog hair on everything.”

  “We can get one of those non-shedding dogs,” Luna said.

  “I’m not getting one of those little frou-frou dogs that never stops yapping,” Ash said.

  Knox tapped me on the thigh. “What’s happening?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I said.

  “We had to come home because Luna’s shitty apartment building had another fucking gas leak,” my brother said. “We’re just dropping off her suitcase, and then we’re going for a drink at Ren’s. You guys want to come?”

  “Honey, they look like they’re busy,” Luna said.

  Ash studied the way I was straddling Knox before rolling his eyes. “Gross.”

  “Sweet, you mean,” Luna said with a giggle. “We’re so happy for you guys, really.”

  “Ash, you’re not…upset?” Knox said slowly.

  “Why would I be upset?”

  “Because I’m sleeping with your best friend,” I said.

  Knox winced and Asher grimaced. “What the fuck, Izzy. You don’t have to say it out loud. Christ.”

  “Why are you not more surprised?” I asked.

  “You guys think I’m a fucking idiot,” Ash said. “I knew you had a crush on Knox since you were a kid – hell, everyone did with the way you mooned over him – and then when you moved back, it wasn’t fucking hard to see that Knox liked you.”

  Knox’s mouth dropped open. “Bullshit.”

  Asher shrugged. “It’s true. I can read you like a book. Not to mention, she was at your place last night and you had an “I just got laid’ look on your face.”

  “Do I get an “I just got laid” look on my face?” Luna asked.

  Asher grinned at her. “Hell, yes. Cutest one I’ve ever fucking seen.”

  “You thought I was with Elijah Thomson!” I said.

  “I was just messing with you. It’s what you get for lying to me about being at Knox’s place to walk his fucking dog,” Asher said. “Besides, I told Knox last night that I knew about the two of you.”

  Now my mouth dropped open and I stared accusingly at Knox. “Are you kidding me?”

  “He didn’t say anything to me, Isabelle. I swear to God, he didn’t.”

  “The fuck I didn’t.” Asher said. “I told you in the theatre that I knew you loved Izzy and that you should be with her, didn’t matter what anyone thought. Christ, were you not listening to me at all?”

  “You never said your sister!” Knox’s voice was way higher than usual. “You never once said Isabelle, you just mumbled a bunch of shit about love and how Luna made you a better man.”

  “Honey,” Luna kissed Asher’s bicep, “did you really say that?”

  He grinned at her and she tugged on his arm until he bent down and she could kiss his mouth. “You’re so sweet to say that. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it, Sunshine.”

  “You aren’t angry that we like each other?” I said.

  “Why would I be? Just keep the sex details to yourself and for Christ sake, do not have sex on the couch. That’s worse than the goddamn dog hair. C’mon, Luna, let’s get that drink.”

  Luna took his hand before waving at us. “Bye, guys.”

  We waved back and then stared blankly at each other until the front door shut.

  “Isabelle -”

  “Knox -”

  We both stopped, and I could feel a huge grin crossing my face. Knox jumped when I screeched and wrapped my arms around him before kissing him on the mouth. “Holy shit, Knox!”

  “Isabelle…”

  “Can you fucking believe it? He doesn’t care! We can be together.”

  “Isabelle -”

  I reached down and rubbed his cock. “Come on, let’s go to the bedroom and celebrate.”

  “Isabelle, wait!”

  I blinked at his harsh tone as he lifted me off his lap and leaned forward. He ran his hands through his hair and shifted away when I touched his naked back.

  “What’s wrong, Knox?”

  “We still can’t be together.”

  Panic raced through me. “What are you talking about? Of course we can. My brother doesn’t care that we love each other.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  “Yes, I do.” I touched his arm. “And you love me.”

  “Fuck!” He slammed his hands down on his thighs before standing and pacing back and forth. “We can’t be together, Isabelle. I’m sorry, but there’s more to this than just your brother. I – we can’t be a couple.”

  “Tell me why,” I said.

  He shook his head and I stood up and glared at him. “Don’t you fucking shake your head at me, Knox Jameson. You’ve spent how long telling me that we couldn’t be together because of my brother, and now you’re saying there’s more? You owe me a goddamn explanation.”

  His body tensed before his shoulders slumped. He rubbed a hand over his forehead and glanced at me. The fear and anxiety in his gaze hit me in the gut like a sharp punch, and I immediately forgot my anger.

  I crossed the room to him and put my arms around
his waist. “Tell me, honey. Please.”

  “You’ll never look at me the same way again, Isabelle.”

  I cupped his face. “Nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you.”

  His laugh was achingly bitter. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  “Just tell me.”

  He sighed and took my hand before leading me back to the couch. We sat, our bodies not quite touching, and he dropped my hand before staring at the floor.

  “When I was ten, my grandmother came to live with us. She had some health issues and she was an alcoholic. Dad was her only kid and he loved her a lot. He often put her ahead of us, but I was too young to really understand.”

  His fingers were tapping against his thighs in a restless beat. “Grandma’s drinking got worse. She was drunk nearly every day, and she would say horrible things to my mom. My dad made a lot of excuses for her and said she couldn’t help it.”

  Max crawled onto the couch next to Knox and rested his big head on his thigh. Knox stroked his ears. “It was my parents’ fifteenth anniversary and Dad wanted to take Mom for dinner. Grandma was drunk off her ass as usual, and I think Dad wanted to give Mom a break, you know? So, they went out for dinner and left me to babysit.”

  “How old were you?” I asked.

  He swallowed heavily. “Twelve. Dad told me not let her drink anymore. I promised I wouldn’t. We sat in the living room and watched a movie, and she drank the rest of her beer. When she told me to get more from the basement, I refused, and she was too drunk to go down the stairs herself. I convinced her to go to bed. I helped her upstairs and tucked her in.”

  His normally tanned face was pale, and he was rocking back and forth a little. I scooted closer and took his hand. He held it tightly, his fingers nearly crushing mine, but refused to look at me. “I went back to the living room and started playing video games. I thought she was passed out. I swear I did. Only, she wasn’t. Somehow, she managed the first set of stairs on her own. But she snuck past the living room and she- she went to the basement, and then she…she fell down the stairs, broke her neck and died.”

  “Oh, honey.” I pressed up against him, feeling horrified and sick to my stomach for him.

  He still wouldn’t look at me. “It’s why I freaked out the night you were drinking. It’s why I stayed up all night and watched you. I’m a heavy sleeper and I was afraid if I fell asleep, you would get out of bed and-and try and go down the stairs.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry I did that to you.”

  “You didn’t know,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry.” I kissed his arm and his shoulder, trying not to cry when he pulled away.

  “I killed my own grandmother, Isabelle.”

  “No, it was an accident, honey. A terrible accident and nothing more.”

  “My father didn’t think so.”

  I froze against him, my hand clutching his arm compulsively. “What?”

  “He blamed me for her death. Said that if I had watched her like I was supposed to, she wouldn’t have died. He was right.”

  “No. No, he wasn’t,” I said. “You were a child and it was an accident. They should never have left you with her, not when she was that drunk.”

  “That’s what my mom said, but my dad, he just – he was so angry,” Knox said quietly. “I had taken his mother from him, and he couldn’t forgive me. The next four years were hell. I couldn’t do anything right in his eyes. He started drinking more, he lost his job. He and my mom were fighting all the time.”

  I rubbed his back as he continued. “One night, he’d been drinking lots and he lost his temper. He shoved mom. I took a swing at him. He punched me in the face and told me I deserved to die for what I did to his mother. Then Mom threatened to call the cops and he took off. She packed the car with as much personal stuff as she could cram into it and we left. She filed for divorced, changed our last name to Jameson, and moved us to this little town in the middle of nowhere.”

  “She changed your last name?” I stared up at him. “Your last name isn’t Jameson?”

  “No. I’m actually Knox Branson the Third.” His laugh was painfully bitter.

  “Why-why did she change your name?” I whispered.

  “Because she was afraid that dad would find us. That he would drink too much, and then come after me and hurt me.”

  “Oh my God. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” I tried to hug him, but he stood and walked away.

  “Now you know why I can’t be with you.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said.

  He gave me a look of frustration. “Because I’m toxic, Isabelle. I killed my own grandmother, I broke up my parents’ marriage, and my own father hates me.”

  “No,” I said. “Knox, none of that is your fault. You aren’t going to hurt me, honey.”

  “You don’t know that. I have a lot of baggage, and I don’t have any idea how to even be in a relationship.”

  “You think I do? My mom is a total bitch who nagged and belittled my father every chance she got. I am terrified of turning into her. Every morning I look in the mirror and tell myself to be kind, to be patient, to not be the awful person she is. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t, but I never give up, Knox. I can’t. Not if I want to be happy and live a good life.”

  “It’s different. You’re not a murderer, Isabelle.”

  “You aren’t either,” I said.

  “I am!” His voice was thick with frustration. “I’m not good enough for you. I wish I was, but I’m not. My father was right.”

  “He isn’t. Maybe you need to-to contact him, to find him and tell him that he’s -”

  “No,” Knox said. “I don’t want anything to do with him. I spent four years listening to him tell me how awful I was, I’m not going back to that. Maybe if I thought he had changed, if I knew that he…”

  “He what?”

  “Nothing. He won’t have changed, and it doesn’t matter.”

  “Don’t let what your father has told you, be the truth that you live, honey. He is wrong about you. He’s a drunk asshole who screwed up and lost the best thing that ever happened to him. You are amazing and funny, and kind and sweet.”

  “You just see what you want to see,” he said.

  “Does my brother know what happened?” I asked.

  He nodded, and I stood and walked over to him. “No one will ever love me more than Asher loves me. He knows your past, and he still thinks you’re good enough for me. Because you are, Knox.”

  I cupped his face and made him look at me. “I love you and I will always love you. Your past is your past, and it does not define you.”

  For a moment, I could see his love for me in his eyes. Hope bloomed in my belly and then abruptly died when he looked away. “I’m sorry. I should never have let things go this far between us. I should have ignored what I felt for you and let you live your life, but it’s just more proof of the way I fuck up the lives of the people I love.”

  “Knox -”

  “No,” he pulled away from me, “I have to go. I’m sorry, Isabelle, truly sorry for what I’ve done to you. Goodbye.”

  He whistled for Max and I watched numbly as they left the room. The front door shut, and I staggered to the couch, staring blankly at the wall. I was devastated…and angry.

  No, fuck that, I was pissed.

  Knox’s dad had fucked up his chance to ever live a normal life. I stood and paced back and forth before punching the wall as hard as I could. I yelled a curse and stomped to the kitchen, grabbing my laptop on my way.

  I plopped a bag of frozen peas on my swelling knuckles before opening my laptop. It took me less than five minutes to find Knox’s father’s home address, cell phone number and Facebook page.

  My hand shaking, I clicked on his page and stared at his profile picture. It was a picture of him, Ellen, and Knox as a toddler. He was holding Knox in his arms and kissing his cheek and Ellen was smiling up at them.

  My rage engulf
ed me like a bloated sun. How dare he. How dare he put that picture up like he had never broken his son, like he had never hurt him or blamed him or…

  My hands were still shaking with fury and my knuckles were throbbing, but I still managed to punch in the phone number into my cell the first try. It rang and when he answered after the second ring, sounding so much like Knox that it hurt my heart, I shouted. “You’re a fucking asshole! Your son is the best man I know, and you deserve to walk on fucking hot coals for the rest of eternity, you stupid son of a bitch!”

  There was a stunned silence and then he said, “You – you know my son?”

  “Fuck you! You’re a fucked-up psychopath, and I hope a thousand fire ants eat your dick from the inside out. Do you have any idea what you’ve done, you brain-dead motherfucker? Knox deserves better than a brainless, dickless walking asshole who doesn’t know the first thing about raising a son.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Even with you fucking him up, he’s an amazing man, an incredible man, and it’s your loss that you – wait, what the fuck did you just say?”

  “You’re right. Listen, I have no idea who you are, but if you really do know Knox, please, you have to tell him to contact me. Tell him that I’m sorry and that I love him, and I’ve spent the last decade trying to find him.”

  The man spoke in a rush, as if he was afraid I would hang up on him before he could get it all out.

  “You’re sorry? You told your son he was a murderer and you’re sorry? Are you fucking kidding me?” I barked harsh laughter.

  “I know, it isn’t enough, but it’s a start, right? I am desperate to fix what I’ve done to him, I swear. How-how do you know my boy?”

  “I’m not answering any of your fucking questions,” I said.

  “It’s obvious that you love him,” his father said. “Please, I love him too and I just want the chance to tell him I’m sorry. He won’t forgive me, and I understand that, but I want him to know that I was wrong and that I’m sorry and I love him.”

  I didn’t say anything. I hated Knox’s father, hated him, but if he truly did want to tell Knox he was wrong and that he was sorry, it might be my only chance to have Knox in my life.

 

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