Knox KOBO

by Christie Ridgway

  Knox winced. “Whoops. Tell her I’m sorry. I’m not yet used to thinking of you as part of a couple.”

  The rustling of sheets and a soft murmur told him that Luke was getting up and likely leaving the room. “All right,” the other man finally said in a louder voice. “I’m heading for coffee. This better be good.”

  “It’s not good.” Knox scrubbed his free hand over his face again. “I’m in a little trouble. Or maybe it’s more dire than that.”

  He sensed Luke’s new alertness. “Trouble? You? My easygoing little brother? What’s happened?”

  Where to start? Knox pinched the bridge of his nose. “The yoga instructor…”

  “Oh, God.” Luke sighed. “What’s gotten into you? You never make a misstep when it comes to women. Did you not let this one down as easy as all the others? The ones who bake you batches of cookies when you break up with them.”

  Knox frowned. “That makes it sound like they’re grateful when we go our separate ways.”

  “They’re happy to still be friends with you, even though you’ve dashed their hopes.”

  “That’s not the case this time.” Not yet. “You see…”

  “Are you being run out of town? Do I need to wire bail money?”

  “You need to tell me what to do,” Knox said. “I think…I think I’m coming to care about Erin. A lot. Too much.”

  Luke went quiet.

  “Well?” Knox demanded. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “I’m taking time to enjoy the moment I first heard that the mighty has fallen.”

  “Shut up—”

  “I’m doing it for all those ladies you walked away from without a scratch to your heart or your ego.”

  “It wasn’t that many,” Knox muttered. “Now get on with telling me how to handle this.”

  “I’m not exactly understanding the problem.”

  “What the hell do I know about this—this ‘care’ thing? It’s not like I’ve been mooning after a Lizzie for the last decade. It’s new for me.” He hauled in a breath. “How do I know it won’t all blow up in my face?”

  “My Liz would say you have to trust and believe in the other person.”

  “But that’s the crux of the damn problem.” Impatient, Knox forked his free hand through his hair. “I’ve known Erin for less than a week. Mere days. But she’s already made me crazy.”

  “Love at first sight,” Luke murmured.

  “I don’t know. Maybe at first conversation.” And the idea of that didn’t make Knox any happier. “How can I go forward without a guarantee?”

  “I suppose in this case,” Luke said slowly, “you have to believe in yourself. Trust your own judgment.”

  Colin’s voice boomed in Knox’s head. You never take anything seriously! “Fuck,” he said under his breath. “How can I possibly do that?”

  “You have good instincts, Knox. Don’t doubt it.”

  “Yeah?” he said dully.

  “I talked to Eban,” Luke offered.

  Knox stiffened. “What?”

  “After you and I last spoke. I was still concerned.” Luke pulled in an audible breath. “He told me you’re a silent partner in the bar. And he hinted you’ve invested in some other successful businesses.”

  “Damn. Why’d he do that?”

  “I think to assure me you won’t ride that Indian off the face of the earth. That you have responsibilities you’d never shirk.”

  Knox sighed. So goes the beach bum image.

  “We should talk,” Luke began, “about why you didn’t want anyone to know—”

  “No, we shouldn’t talk about that. I’m done here. I need my own cup of caffeine.”

  “Fine. But you need to listen to one final piece of my hard-earned wisdom.”

  “Do I have a choice?” Knox asked with ill grace.

  Luke sounded amused. “Not when you called me in the middle of the night.”

  Knox let his head drop back. “Fine.”

  “I’ve always wanted to live life in a big way,” his brother said. “I know now that includes grabbing love when you find it.”

  Before first light, from the chair in the motel room’s corner, Knox saw Erin stir. Knowing her schedule at the studio meant rising early, he’d run out for coffee for him and herbal tea for her. Her cup sat steaming on the bedside table.

  Her eyes blinked, and then she rose on her elbows to look around with some confusion.

  “Morning,” he said, his voice soft so as not to startle her.

  Her gaze swiveled his way, and she sat up higher, holding the sheet to her breasts. “Morning.”

  “Tea for you.” He nodded toward the cup.

  She reached for it, and he ran his gaze over her, enjoying—too much?—the sight of her, disheveled and rosy from sleep. The call to his brother hadn’t cleared his head. Nor his chest, because it felt too full just looking on her as she pursed her lips to blow across the surface of her drink. When the covers fell to her waist, his cock surged, and he jumped to his feet, turning away before he leaped to join her on the bed.

  “I have bagels,” he said. “And a banana. I bought them at the convenience store.”

  “I need to get home. The seniors have class this morning.”

  He nodded without looking at her. When he finally turned around, she’d found her clothes that he’d folded on the end of the bed, and was dressed.

  Her hair curtained her face as she bent over to slip on her boots.

  Without thinking, he crossed to her, the distance too difficult to maintain. As he sat on the mattress beside her, she turned to him. “Knox?”

  Cupping her cheek in one hand, he studied her face. “Are you all right?”

  Her skin heated beneath his touch and she smiled. “You know I have no complaints.”

  “Good.” He touched his forehead to hers and felt that heaviness swell in his chest again. “A busy day ahead?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Classes in the morning. I do business-y stuff in the afternoon.”

  Should he make later plans with her? But that didn’t seem smart, not when he had yet to figure out how to handle this, how to handle her.

  When she stirred, he let her go, watching as she gathered her purse and jacket. Then her gaze landed on the chair where they’d begun their carnal activities the night before, and he saw her body still.

  Memories rose in his mind, teased his libido, goaded him to come up behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and bent his head to nuzzle her hair aside in order to kiss her neck. A delicate shiver worked down her back.

  He wanted to chase it with his tongue. “Erin,” he whispered with raspy need.

  “I really have to go,” she said, her voice full of regret.

  “Okay.” With a last kiss, he lifted his hands, then followed her to the door.

  The parking lot remained quiet as he walked her to her car. In the street, a white delivery truck rumbled by, and he watched it idly, Erin’s hand in his. It was hell to let her get away from him, and every possessive urge inside him was clamoring to scoop her up and take her back to his bed.

  Surely he could find some chains.

  And then he had to laugh at himself because he’d become that caveman again.

  “What is it?” Erin said, but her gaze remained on the delivery truck so Knox looked at it again too, and saw that it had pulled into Mickey’s. Though the business was not yet open, the neon sign remained on, and an orange glow illuminated the office door.

  “There’s a bell,” Erin murmured. “It rings in the house and Dad will come out for any after-hours or before-hours deliveries.”

  Was she nervous about being seen by her father? Knox shifted to block her from view, but she went on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder.

  “There are several boxes,” she said, then cleared her throat. “One of them could be the part for your motorcycle.”

  Knox froze. And if one was, indeed, the item needed to repair the Indian, he could be on his way
before the end of the day, leaving behind all this confusion and unease. The risk inherent in falling in love. Before his ego or his heart might suffer any real—or at least lasting—damage, he’d be gone.

  “Erin,” he said, looking down at her. “I…” And then he heard his own voice in his head, an echo of words he’d once said to her. I don’t suppose you do one-night stands.

  If he left today, that’s exactly all they would have.

  Every trace of glibness gone, not a single scrap of charm left in his arsenal, Knox stared into her silver eyes, once more undone. His eyes closed, and that fullness in his chest began to ache.

  “Knox,” she whispered. One of her small hands clasped his, and she shook it a little. “Knox, look at me.”

  He opened his eyes, and the sky had lightened enough that he could see more of her small face, the lips still swollen from his kisses, the abrasion on her jaw where his late-night whiskers had scratched her. Lifting his thumb to it, he ghosted a touch there. “Ouch,” he whispered.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” she said, taking hold of that hand too. “I’m fine. I’m going to be fine if this ends today. Don’t regret—”

  “I don’t,” he hastened to say. “But—”

  “I don’t regret it, either.” Her smile, warm and impish, did nothing to alleviate this new misery.

  “Erin…”

  “My choice, Knox. When I came to you last night, temporary was all I was looking for—even one night was enough.”

  But what if one night wasn’t enough for him?

  Chapter 8

  With morning classes over, Erin showered and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. After a quick lunch, she puttered about her kitchen, reluctant to delve into the paperwork that even a small business generated. When Marissa called, she was happy to put it off a bit longer.

  “Hi,” she said to her friend. “What’s up?”

  “I’m the DMAC, don’t you remember?”

  Puzzled, Erin tried unpacking the acronym. “Direct…Mouthpiece of Allergic Conditions?”

  “I’m the spokesperson for hay fever?” Rissa said. “Does that even make sense?”

  “No, but neither do you.”

  “Designated Morning-After Caller,” her friend explained in a patient tone. “I phone, you give the deets about your night in the sheets. I will then pass on said deets to our other best friend at the earliest opportunity. So…how was hot and hunky Knox Brannigan?”

  Hot and hunky, that says it all. Erin cleared her throat. “Deanne figured out I was going to him.”

  “Of course Deanne figured that out! Now spill.”

  Where to begin? She didn’t want to share too much because she didn’t want to make too much of it. After all, it might very well be a one-and-done. “What are you doing right now?” she asked, stalling.

  “I planned to pre-wash all the baby clothes and put them away today, but I didn’t feel up to it. My ankles are like an elephant’s and my back hurts, so I’m sitting on a stool by the kitchen sink and washing the salt and pepper shakers by hand instead.”

  Marissa’s husband’s grandmother had passed down her extensive collection of whimsical shakers to the younger woman. Unfortunately, Marissa had never liked them, and she swore she’d manage to “accidentally” break each and every one if it was her last action on Earth.

  Concerned that the pregnant woman might do something today she’d later regret, Erin cleared her throat again. “Um, Rissa, you’re being careful, right? You know how I adore that turtle pair, with the one little guy standing up and the other on his back with his tiny legs in the air?”

  “Washed and dried.”

  “And the fire hydrant and the puppy? You know that’s Tom’s grammy’s favorite. She’d hate anything to happen to those two.”

  “I’m looking at them right now,” Marissa said, with a strange tone to her voice.

  Oh, boy. Erin chewed her bottom lip. “Rissa—”

  “And the frog bride-and-groom set are here, too. They look so happy.” An audible sniff followed. “So cute and so happy.”

  Alarm filled Erin. The nicest thing her friend had ever said about any of the shakers was that they were despicably kitschy. “Um…”

  “And you should see what Grammy brought me yesterday. It looks like a cracked egg and there’s a baby chick peeking out. The top half of the shell sits on his head like a hat and the salt comes out of that part. Then you take the little guy out of the other half and the pepper comes from the bottom shell.” Throughout this description, Marissa’s voice thickened. “Do you get it?”

  “Um, I think I do, Rissa. Now, take a breath—”

  “It’s a chick about to hatch!” the expectant mother said, on a stifled sob. “Just like my b-baby. And—”

  “It was the best sex of my life,” Erin interrupted hastily, trying to distract her friend from what sounded like a cloud of hormonal tears about to break. “The best sex of anyone’s life, I swear. Better than a fantasy. Better than those books Deanne passed to us.”

  A beat of silence followed. Then Marissa whispered, “Better than a fantasy?”

  “Because it was real. A real man’s mouth, his fingers, his, well, his tongue and the other…parts that he knows how to use.” His voice, murmuring things in her ear. The words he’d made her say that had made her blush and made her burn.

  “Was it raunchy?” The other woman’s tears had evaporated. “Since I turned six months pregnant, I only fantasize about raunchy stuff.”

  Erin laughed. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t told me that. Wait. I wish you hadn’t told me that.”

  “Just answer the question,” Marissa demanded, sounding cross.

  Yes, raunchy. Give it to me, baby. Her face heated. “Let’s leave it that he treated me just right.” Raunchy, but tender too, she thought, remembering his fleeting touch to the whisker burn on her jaw. “Just very, very right.”

  “Oh, Erin.” Her friend sighed. “Is that man going to break your heart?”

  “No,” Erin replied instantly. “I’m not going to let him get that close.”

  And for all she knew, she wouldn’t see him again, right? She was okay with that, she told herself. Totally okay.

  But fifteen minutes later, when she heard the roar of a motorcycle turn into her drive, her heart jolted. “He’s only come to say goodbye,” she murmured to herself. “That’s polite. And I’ll be just as polite when I wish him good travels.”

  She heard him on the steps to the house’s second floor entrance, the thump of his boots sounding as if he was taking them two at a time.

  Eager to see her or eager to be on his way?

  In any case, she waited until she heard his knock before heading to the door. When she opened it, they both froze. Knox appeared as he had the first night they’d met at the café—heavy black boots, dark jeans, his leather jacket over a dark T-shirt. Bad boy, she’d thought then, and nothing had changed her opinion, despite the gentle aftercare of the night before.

  A charming bad boy, sure, but she couldn’t miss the edge of danger that came with his good looks and the stark hunger in his gaze as he took her in from head to toes.

  Erin locked her knees in order not to squirm and tightly gripped the door jamb. “Well, this is unexpected,” she said in a bright voice. “A goodbye stop on your way out of town?”

  His brows lowered as if her reference to “goodbye stop” displeased him. “No. I…” He shoved his hand through his hair. “The Indian won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

  She played it cool. “So the part was delivered?”

  “Yeah, the coil, and your dad must have magic in his dialing finger if he could find a supplier to deliver it this fast.” He hesitated. “But Cass let me borrow a motorcycle for the day—and he thought I might persuade you to go for a ride with me.”

  Erin couldn’t hide her surprise. “My dad?”

  “Apparently he thinks you don’t get out enough.” Knox grinned a little. “Or maybe he wanted to get rid
of me. It’s possible I was hovering while he worked.”

  Now her dad was encouraging her to get out of the yoga studio, just like her friends? Did everyone think she was a dull loser?

  “Hey,” Knox said now. “That pretty face doesn’t need a frown. It needs some fun. Come with me?”

  It was for her dad, she told herself, as she found herself climbing onto the back of the bike. She knew he worried about her, especially when he’d been making noises about closing down Mickey’s or selling the business to his assistant, Jolly, in order to retire. He’d been investigating Mexico, hoping the warmer climate would ease the slowly increasing pain of his arthritis.

  Then Knox started the bike, and she was obliged to tighten her arms around his lean waist as they turned onto the highway. The controlled speed and the cool wind made her feel like she was flying. Erin smiled to herself and settled deeper onto the leather seat. It had been ages since she’d taken a ride with her dad and, just like yoga, she realized, it could calm her mind and relieve her of cares.

  No need to fret over Cass’s retirement or whether to expand her yoga classes to the resort or that she might never see Knox again once he returned her home.

  They rode north and east into rolling mountains covered by winter-green grasses and studded with gnarled, long-armed oaks. She lifted her face toward the stark blue sky and let the beauty and peace of the moment wash over her just like the sunshine. Smiling wider, she pulled more clean air into her lungs and sent a silent thanks to the man whose warm, strong body was in front of hers. As if Knox sensed her thoughts, he placed one palm over her clasped hands at his belly, squeezing. She hitched closer, moving her hips nearer his backside, and he squeezed again.

  Possibly she sensed a swallowed groan as well.

  Only something more to grin about.

  Later, they stopped at a tavern tucked beneath a stand of more oaks. A popular spot, judging by the many motorcycles parked, backsides-in, along the rail of the open-air deck that circled the place. A few people gathered at the outside tables, but she and Knox headed into the building where he bought them each a beer and they found seats at a small table by a window.