“Wow.”
Angelia looks as stunned as Monica did. Knox called me Monday, the day after the kiss, to tell me the Blaze Foundation staffers were already working on getting an event together. I can’t deny that from what I’ve seen so far, Knox is a man who says what he means and means what he says.
“I needed some good news,” Angelia says, tears welling in her eyes again. “Danielle leaving here hit me pretty hard.”
“Of course it did. I thought she and the kids were doing so well.”
“They were, but Danielle wasn’t used to being broke. He husband waved some cash around and she went running back.”
I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “But now she knows we’re here. If something happens—”
“When something happens,” Angelia says bitterly.
“I know. But she knows we’ve got her back now. And the counseling may not have gotten all the way through, but maybe it was enough that she’ll know to leave immediately when something happens again.”
“I hope so.” Angelia sighs deeply. “I know it’s not right that I get so upset about it, but I can see myself in her, you know? Wanting to believe he changed. Wanting to be enough to keep him happy. But abusers are ticking time bombs.”
“All we can do is keep trying,” I remind her.
She forces a smile and stands up. “I guess we should get back to it. Lunch ain’t gonna cook itself.”
“Want to hang out at my place Saturday night? I was thinking we could get pizza and watch a movie. Or maybe…I don’t know, the hockey game.”
Angelia gives me a knowing look. “The hockey game? Somebody’s got it bad for a man she’s not dating.”
“We might be going out on a date,” I admit. “If the fundraiser brings in more than $200,000.”
Her mouth drops open and a single note of laughter comes out. “Girl, you are one expensive date.”
I shrug. “Might as well make him work for it.”
Angelia laughs, the smile back in her eyes now.
“Oh, and we also have to go shopping for dresses for the fundraiser,” I say. “I’m buying, and I won’t hear any arguing about it.”
“No way. I’m not putting on a dress and heels for any reason.”
“I guess you can wear jeans if you want, but you may feel out of place.”
Her groan is borderline whiny. “You mean I have to go to this thing?”
“Of course.”
“Ugh, I’m about as social as a broomstick.”
I put an arm around her as we leave her office and head for the kitchen. “But it’s for a good cause, so I know I can count on you.”
She glares at me, but doesn’t say a word. And even though I know she’ll relent and wear a dress in the end, I’m pretty sure I haven’t heard the end of her complaining about it.
When I get home after a long day at the shelter that evening, I set my stack of mail down on the couch next to me and flop down beside it, taking out my phone to text Knox back.
Me: Yes, I can do lunch on Sunday, but I think you accidentally sent me another text, the one where you asked about working out together?
Knox: No, that was for you. Thought we could go for a run together.
Me: Ummmmm…..no. I’m not running with you.
Knox: Bike ride?
Me: Also no.
Knox: Okay, how bout if you think of a way for us to get sweaty together?
I put the phone to my chest and laugh. For a brooder, Knox can be quite funny.
Me: We can LIGHTLY JOG to a new bakery I want to try.
Knox: Deal.
Me: Where are you?
Knox: Toronto. We got our asses kicked in the game, don’t watch the highlights on SportsCenter.
Me: Lol, do you think you should win every single game?
Knox: Yes.
Me: Glad you’ve got a healthy mindset on winning…
Knox: How was the shelter today?
Me: Exhausting. I didn’t even sit down when I ate dinner. It’s almost 10 pm here, what time is it there?
Knox: An hour later. I’ll let you get to bed.
Me: Okay. See you Sunday.
Knox: Sweet dreams, sweet girl.
My heart does a little somersault as I read his last message, and then read it again. I smile as I set the phone down and open my mail, sorting it into a trash pile and a keep pile.
The last piece of mail I open is a letter from a chef I met in culinary school. He’s starting a new restaurant in New York City that will be staffed by homeless people under the supervision of a few chefs and sous chefs. It’ll be attached to a shelter, and it’s been fully funded by private donations.
Just the sound of it makes me giddy with happiness, and I assume he wants to get some advice from me, until a line in his letter stops me cold.
I want to hire you to run the kitchen.
Like Knox’s text, I have to read it again for it to really set in. It’s my dream job. As much as I love working at Magnolia, I’ve realized in the past few months that my heart lies in teaching. In giving women a leg up and helping them build better lives for themselves and their children.
But New York City? I can’t move there. I’m happy here.
I set the letter on top of the stack of junk mail bound for the trash can, but a second later, something makes me switch it over to the keep pile.
Chapter Fifteen
Knox
When Reese spots me from across the room, her expression conveys so much that it takes my breath away. She came to the fundraiser a few hours early to help set up displays for the Women’s Mission. But seeing her for the first time, even in this crowded ballroom, feels the same as it would if we were alone at her place and I was picking her up.
She’s stunning in a sparkling red dress that hugs her body in all the right places. The dress is sleeveless, with a high neckline and an open back, and every instinct I have is telling me to go put my hand on her lower back and pull her close for a kiss.
Her eyes are dancing with happiness and her expression is joyful, but there’s also a vulnerable question there: how do I look? It radiates off of her, that of all the people in this room who can see her right now, I’m the only one whose opinion she cares about.
I want to go to her, but she’s in the middle of working on a display, so instead I mouth, “You’re beautiful” and press my fingertips to my lips, blowing her a kiss.
If any of my teammates saw that, I’ll get teased until I qualify for a senior discount, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s worth it to see Reese glow the way she is right now.
“Hey, man, looking all GQ and shit,” Silas says, nudging me. “Did you finally break down and buy your own tux?”
“Yeah, it was time.” I smooth a hand down the tux that set me back a mint, but it fits much better than the rental ones do.
“So does Reese work at the shelter?” he asks me.
“She volunteers there.” I give him a pointed look. “Did you bring your checkbook like I told you to?”
“Yep.” He pats the breast pocket of his suit. “I’ll bid on some silent auction stuff.”
“You need to make a direct donation, too.”
Silas gives me an amused look. “I do?”
“Yeah, it’s a good cause and they need the money. You’ve got plenty of it so don’t be a cheap bastard.”
“There’s the Knox we all know and love. You’re usually a surly prick. Reese is softening you, though.”
I scowl. “Just because I’m softer with her doesn’t mean I’m softer with anyone else.”
Silas forgets our conversation as a pretty woman walks by. I shake my head as he follows her all the way across the room with his gaze.
“Hopefully you can bid on some A-game tonight,” I tell him. “You look like one of those cartoon characters with hearts popping out their eyes and their tongue hanging to the floor.”
He grins at me. “There’s nothing like a woman in a dress and heels, am I right?”
“You must really like this one,” Silas says, following my line of sight to the table Reese is working at. “You’re working hard for it.”
“I do really like her, but this is a good cause. If we can’t raise this money, the shelter will have to cut their after-school program for kids, and they won’t be able to serve hot meals anymore.”
He smirks. “Like I said, soft.”
I swallow my comeback as I see Reese walking across the room toward me. She says a quick hello to Silas and then hugs me, and I have to run through a couple hockey plays in my head to avoid getting hard from the feel and smell of her.
“You look amazing,” I say in her ear, noticing the goosebumps that appear on her arms.
“Thanks.” She pulls back and smiles up at me. “I can’t believe how many people there are here.”
“There are lots of fat checkbooks in this room too,” I say with a wink.
Silas excuses himself, probably to go find out if the woman he was looking at is here with a date.
“Are we still pretending you’ll only go out with me if this event raises at least 200k?” I ask Reese in a low tone.
She grins. “Who’s pretending?”
I put my hands on her waist. “This is a brand new tux, you know. I’ve never taken it off before, so it might be a challenge. If only I had someone to undo all these buttons later…”
“If only,” she says, her face flushing.
“There you are, Reese.”
A woman approaches us, looking relieved to see Reese. An African-American woman with long braids and big brown eyes, she’s very striking. I’d probably be attracted to her if I had eyes for any woman but Reese.
“Angelia, this is Knox,” Reese says, gesturing toward me. “And Knox, this is Angelia.”
“The best friend,” I say, offering my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Angelia hesitates for a second before shaking my hand and smiling. “Same here.”
She tugs on a part of her long navy dress that’s hidden by a black wrap. It’s clear she’s uncomfortable.
“Can I get you ladies a drink?” I ask them.
“I’ll take some water,” Angelia says.
“White wine for me,” Reese says. “Thanks.”
I leave them to talk in hushed tones, half-wondering if they’re talking about me. What’d I’d give to be a fly on the wall. I know Reese is attracted to me, but I’m dying to know if there’s something more there for her, like there is for me.
I’ve almost made it to the bar when Olivier Durand stops me.
“Hey, thanks for being here,” I say as I shake his hand.
He gestures around the room. “We’re fortunate to have a foundation that puts on fundraisers like this.”
“I agree. And a team owner who supports them, too.”
He gives me a wry smile. “I absolutely believe in giving back.” He clears his throat and turns to the young woman beside him. “Knox, may I introduce my niece, Marcella Durand?”
Marcella, a twenty-something blonde, smiles widely at me. “Fort Knox,” she says lightly, “at last I get to meet you.”
She must be a hockey fan, because most non-fans don’t know that’s my nickname, due to my size and my ability to keep opposing players from getting to the goal.
“Great to meet you, Marcella,” I say, shaking her hand.
She steps closer to me, and Olivier clears his throat. “I told my niece I’m pretty sure you’re involved with someone who works at the shelter, thus your reason for asking the foundation to put on this event, but she was insistent about meeting you.”
Marcella shrugs, looking unfazed that her uncle pretty much just told me she’s interested in me.
“A girl can still try,” she says.
“I’m flattered,” I say, “but your uncle is right. I’m spoken for already. She actually volunteers at the shelter and she’s an incredibly talented pastry chef.”
“Hmm. I can barely make a grilled cheese,” Marcella says. “But I have other talents.”
Olivier gives her a stern look, then turns to me. “Knox, we’ll let you get on with your night.”
“Hopefully you guys can meet Reese later,” I say.
“We’d like that.”
He leads his niece off to meet someone else, and I hold back a laugh. The guy’s got all the money in the world, but it doesn’t help him contain his hormonal hockey-loving niece.
I get the drinks and make my way back to Reese, feeling like things may finally be falling into place for us. It’s bittersweet for me, because I want to introduce Reese to my family, but now isn’t a good time. I talked to my dad on the phone earlier, with my mom there on speakerphone. He was in good spirits, but I know it can’t last. The doctors have been clear that it’s only a matter of time for him, and that it’ll be sooner rather than later.
Part of me wants to tell Reese about his illness, but I’m not sure I can bring myself to say the words “he’s dying” out loud. I still have an irrational hope that the doctors are wrong.
It fucking sucks that while one area of my life is going so well, another is in the shitter. The happy times I’m having with Reese are keeping me from giving in to the despair I feel over my dad.
“What did you buy?” Reese asks me once we’ve finished dinner and watched a video presentation about the shelter and its work.
I lean in and tell her. “I made a direct donation and bought a weekend trip to Napa. Since it’s for a good cause, I know you’ll go on the trip with me.”
She nudges me playfully. “Yes, I’ll go. You never have to ask twice if it’s California.”
“I don’t drink wine, though, so we’ll have to find other ways to pass the time.”
She’s about to respond when Mia Petrov comes to the podium and tells the crowd she’s got a tentative total to announce from the fundraiser. My heart pounds as Reese clutches my hand beneath the table, her other hand wrapped up in both hands of Angelia, who’s sitting on her other side.
“This number is not final, because we still have some stuff to add in,” Mia says, looking down at a piece of paper. “But we know we raised at least this amount.”
Reese is holding her breath in anticipation, not moving, and I find myself doing the same. I want this event to go well, and not just because I want to take her out on a date. It’s for a great cause, but more than anything, I want to make Reese happy. I want her to be able to continue her work at the shelter, because I’m not sure if she even realizes this, but that work has helped her heal.
I’m hoping for any number higher than two hundred thousand dollars, but I’m floored when I hear Mia’s announcement.
Chapter Sixteen
Reese
My mouth drops open in shock and I turn to Knox.
“Did she just say $416,000?” I ask.
“She did.”
The whole room is cheering, and the employees from the shelter sitting at our table are crying with happiness. The programs are saved. It’s a sense of victory I’ve never even imagined feeling.
And it’s all because of Knox’s idea for this fundraiser. I lean over, take his face in my hands and kiss him, on the verge of crying myself. I’ve never in my life been so overwhelmed with gratitude and love.
Love? I pull back from Knox, feeling like someone just knocked the wind out of me. How can I be in love with Knox? I promised myself I’d never fall in love again, and I’ve turned down every offer of a relationship from him.
And yet…it’s there. Down deep in a part of my heart I thought no one would reach again…is Knox Deveraux. He’s not like any man I’ve ever known. Steady and sexy at the exact same time. Able to knock me off my feet and keep me grounded.
I want to tell him, so we can process this shock together, but I clamp my lips shut. I can’t do that. Because if he loves me back—and I think he does—there’ll be nothing holding us back from a full-blown relationship. In no time, my clothes will be on his bedroom floor and he’ll have a blue toothbrush in the cup on my bathroom sink next to my purple one.
Just the thought makes me a little dizzy. While I’d love every minute of being with Knox like that, there’s still a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of that day almost a year and a half ago when Eric drop-kicked my heart across a small chapel.
I thought everything was well and good. I was about to spend the rest of my life with a man who had cheated on me more than once. I realize now it was probably more than twice, too. But I didn’t have a clue.
Knox is happy now, but will he be in five years? Could I ever walk down the aisle, see any man standing there and not wonder what he hasn’t told me?
“Hey, you okay?” he asks me, his brows knitted together with concern.
I grab my goblet of water and take a long drink, nodding as I set it down. “I just felt lightheaded there for a minute. I think I’m just in shock.”
Angelia turns to me, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen her smile. She hugs me and then reaches across my lap and takes Knox’s hand, squeezing it.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking.
“It was my pleasure,” he says.
And damned if I don’t want to kiss him again. Knox has always had a way of making me lose my senses that I’ve never experienced with any other man.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Angelia asks me. “You look kinda sick.”
“I’m fine. Just…completely blown away, I think.”
It’s the truth. And while I am blown away by the fundraising total, I’m more floored by my realization that I’m in love with Knox.
It’s supposed to be a good thing—to feel good—but for me, it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I was resigned to never lose my heart to a man again. Someday I wanted to reach a point where I could enjoy sex and companionship again, but never this.
This time, I reach for my wine glass rather than water. People are starting to stand, still hugging and celebrating, as Mia thanks everyone for their contribution.
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