by Mara Wells
“Your ex.” Danielle knew more about Knox’s past than he knew about hers. She didn’t hold it against him. Between his family and his athletic prowess, he was often the subject of gossip. Between her studies and her time at her dad’s clinic, she was not. It was how things were.
Knox snorted and swiped a hand through his already tousled hair. “She’s not quite over it yet.”
“And are you? Over it?”
His blue eyes collided with her brown ones. “Of course I am. I would never have asked you out if I still had a thing for someone else.”
Danielle’s breath rushed from her lungs, and she closed her eyes. Knox really did say the sweetest things sometimes.
“Now my thing is all for you.” Knox lowered his voice so only she could hear him.
Danielle’s eyes popped open, and a blush crept up her neck. She didn’t mean to eye his crotch; she really didn’t. But she did, and he caught her.
His cheeks flamed brighter than hers. “That’s not what I meant.”
A strangled giggle escaped her. He watched her warily, then joined in with a chuckle. “Although I suppose that interpretation isn’t entirely inaccurate.”
She laughed harder, dropping her textbook in the process, then laughing more when they bumped heads trying to grab it at the same time.
“Knox—”
“Danielle—”
“I’m crazy about you.” The words came out at the same time, both of them a little breathless from laughter.
“Jinx,” they said together, then “Jinx” again and again until Danielle was laughing too hard to keep up, and Knox got in a “Jinx” without her.
“Finally.” Knox tipped her head up toward him with a finger under her chin. “Whoever wins a jinx gets a kiss. You know those are the rules, right?”
Danielle’d never heard any such thing, but she nodded solemnly. “Right.”
His lips brushed hers lightly, a kiss appropriate for being in public. But Danielle was seized by a feeling she’d never had before, so bright and strong it felt like her chest might crack open from the pressure of it. So she used both her hands to pull him down toward her, stepped into his body, and made the kiss hers. Students streamed around them on their way to class, but Danielle wouldn’t break the kiss. The bell rang, and still they were kissing.
“Break it up.” A teacher leaned out her classroom door. “And get to class, you two.”
Danielle stood in the hallway, feeling like the walls were spinning. She kept her hand on the center of Knox’s chest, his heartbeat under her palm. His breath came quick and hard, and for a moment, she thought they both swayed on their feet. Maybe it was a lack of oxygen. That had been one long kiss. Maybe it was the disorientation of moving from their own private world and back into school mode. Or maybe it was love.
Maybe it was love. Danielle wasn’t sure. She’d never felt it before. But what else could it be?
“Danielle—”
“Knox—”
“I love you.”
Knox’s hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing her bottom lip like he was hypnotized.
“Jinx,” Danielle said, leaning into his touch. “You owe me a kiss.”
Knox dropped his forehead against hers. “Dani, my love, let’s get out of here.”
And that was the first time, but not the last, that Danielle skipped class.
* * *
Now, fifteen years later in the coffee shop, with a smiling Knox sitting across from her, Danielle couldn’t string two words together to save her life. Jinx had been their code word for “I love you,” a shortcut when they were in public, a demand for a kiss, an inside joke not because it was funny but because it was theirs.
“Jinx?” Danielle stuttered the word, then tried to cover by gulping her latte, but every last sip of it was gone.
“Yeah, jinx.” Knox’s gaze pinned her in place. “Our jinx. Remember?”
Like she could forget. The tremble started in her belly but moved quickly to her limbs. The hell with being careful; the hell with anything that kept them from being together even one more minute. She reached a hand across the table, and he caught it in his. “Come here.”
Knox half stood, and she tugged on their joined hands. He leaned across the table until their mouths were a breath apart.
“Jinx,” she whispered and closed the distance, heart hammering like she was eighteen years old again, until their lips touched. That same urgency from so long ago overtook her, and she grabbed onto the back of his head with her free hand. “Knox, let’s get out of here.”
“Thank God I live nearby.” Knox pulled her to her feet and threw money on the table.
She followed him out the door, the jangle of the door less jangly than her nerves. They stopped at her car, and Danielle found herself pressed against the driver’s door. “Five minutes, okay? That’s how long it should take to get to my place.”
“See you in five.” Danielle slid into her car, jumping when Knox tapped on the window. She rolled it down. “Yes.”
He leaned in and kissed her again. “Jinx.”
“But I didn’t say anything.”
“Jinx, jinx, jinx. Now drive, woman. I’m right behind you.”
Danielle laughed and gunned the engine. The material for her personal essay was certainly getting a lot more interesting now.
Chapter 28
Check your email. Danielle groaned and flipped her phone facedown. Couldn’t she ignore the outside world for one more day? The phone vibrated, and Danielle debated stuffing it under her pillow to suffocate it.
“Who is it?” Knox’s arm snaked over her waist and pulled her flush against him. She loved how warm he was, even naked, how the heat radiated off him like her own personal furnace. She snuggled into him, squinting her eyes against the sun slanting in through her cottage window. One bonus of being fired was that she could sleep in as late as she wanted. And boy had she wanted to this week.
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” She tipped her chin back, and Knox obligingly nuzzled into her neck. The hand on her belly slid upward, and Danielle hummed her approval for starting her fourth day in a row with Knox covering her in kisses.
“That’s my Dani,” Knox whispered into her neck. “Cold, heartless. Uncaring. You’re famous for it, really, that no-can-do attitude of yours.”
“Hey.” Danielle maneuvered herself around to face him. “You really want me to check my phone now?” She trailed her finger down the center of his chest, then lower. And lower.
Knox’s nostrils flared, and his eyes got a little unfocused when she circled her fingers around him in one long, slow stroke.
“Well?” She paused at the top of the caress. “Should I stop to read my texts?”
“Maybe not. Right. Now.” His words came out in short pants of breath.
“Good answer. Guess what you win?” She ducked her head under her paisley comforter and made him moan.
* * *
The text was from Sydney. Danielle had missed morning coffee again. She couldn’t help it if staying in bed had suddenly become a lot more alluring. Knox did eventually dress and head over to the Dorothy. Now that the last unit was coming together, the brothers seemed in a hurry to get all the finishing touches done. Danielle sleepwalked through her morning routine, letting out Flurry and Luna, then feeding the puppies and changing the cedar chips in their playpen. Sweet Pea immediately plopped his head in the water bowl, apparently not traumatized by his near-drowning experience from exactly the same thing only a few weeks ago.
Once she had her tea brewed, Danielle checked her phone. The number of emails was higher than usual, so she tracked down her laptop where she’d left it in the puppy room and opened it up outside on one of the poolside lounge chairs.
“What is this?” Danielle clicked on the first email. Adoption application. So was the second email
and third. She scrolled down the list. By her count, there were over twenty adoption applications filling her inbox.
She pulled out her phone to text Sydney back. What is going on?
Check the comments section on the YT channel.
Danielle opened up the Homestretch YouTube channel where Sydney had posted three videos of the puppies. They each had over a thousand likes. So many comments! A brief skim showed that people really loved the puppies. Sydney had linked to the Homestretch website, and people in the comments claimed to have already filled out an application. Based on the volume in her inbox, they weren’t lying.
Are the puppies YouTube famous?!
It would take a couple hundred thousand more views for that to be true, but it’s a strong start. Are they really filling out the adoption apps?
Danielle read through the first app, a couple in Gainesville who wanted to come down and meet the puppies. They really are, she texted back.
Sydney’s response was an incomprehensible string of emojis, but Danielle got the general gist—excitement.
Thank you. Danielle sipped her tea, a bit stunned. She’d never had more applications than dogs available for adoption before, and all it had taken was a couple of videos. She scrolled through her email again, looking for any responses to the résumés she’d been sending out. Nothing. Maybe she needed to post cute videos of herself to get people to hire her.
Or maybe she already had a job. She’d told Sydney she’d never had time to figure out all the social media and website stuff. She’d been focused on the dogs and her work at the clinic, but she had lots of time now. If this little bit of effort yielded such an enthusiastic response, what would happen to Homestretch if she went full-time with it?
She placed her mug of tea on the table beside the lounge chair and got to googling. Luna and Flurry stretched out on the concrete pool deck on either side of her. A full hour passed while she researched and researched some more. Applied to attend a rescue alliance fair in Orlando. Downloaded forms. Watched a few tutorials.
“I can do this,” she told the dogs. “It doesn’t have to be a money-losing hobby. It can be a money-losing business!”
Luna perked an ear, and Flurry let out a sigh. Neither seemed all that impressed with her new plan.
“What business?” Her dad’s shadow blocked the sun, casting a shadow over her laptop screen.
Danielle jackknifed into a seated position. “I think I figured out what I can do!”
Her dad rubbed a palm over his bald head and took a seat on the lounge chair on the other side of the small table. “I haven’t seen you this excited in a long time. Tell me.”
She showed him the YouTube channel, the adoption applications, a lot of her research, ending with, “It’s not a nine-to-five job, but I think it could work.”
“You’ve never been a nine-to-five person.” Dr. Morrow crossed an ankle on his knee and leaned forward. “It makes sense for you is what I’m saying. But what about school?”
Danielle’s excitement deflated like a balloon three days after the birthday party. “About that.” She turned her computer toward him. “There’s an email from the community college. I’ve been afraid to open it.”
“It’s not like they can turn you down.”
Intellectually, she knew he was right. Emotionally, it still felt like a lot to open that particular email. “But they can give me more paperwork.”
“Is it even paperwork if it’s all online?” Her dad winked at her. “Open it, pumpkin. Today seems like a day for good news.”
She closed her eyes and clicked on the email. “What does it say?”
“Bad news, I’m afraid.” Her dad’s jolly tone belied his actual words.
Her eyes popped open. “What is it?”
“You’re going to have to register for classes, and that means more paperwork.” He turned the screen toward her. “How about starting with one class to see how it goes? You don’t want to take on too much while you’re scaling up your rescue work.”
“Seriously?” It was a day for miracles, it seemed. She couldn’t wait to tell Knox.
“I’m proud of you, pumpkin.” Her dad stood and kissed the top of her head. “I really need to get to the clinic. I’m already late.”
Could she squeeze in one more miracle? “Daddy?”
“Yes?” His response was cautious, probably because she sounded like her ten-year-old self begging to stay up a few hours past bedtime.
“No one is going to rent to me while I have ten dogs.” She opened one of her rental rejections to show him as proof. “Now that I have all these adoption applications to sort through, check references, interview—that sort of thing—do you think I could get an eviction extension? At least until the puppies are old enough to go to their new homes? I promise to look for my own place after that.”
A wide smile took over Dr. Morrow’s face. “Of course. That sounds quite reasonable.” He kissed her head again and walked to the main house whistling.
“I like Sherry!” she called after him, feeling magnanimous. He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers at her. Danielle went back to work. The dogs settled in for a long wait.
* * *
Knox stood back to admire the new bathroom. It still needed work—like tiles and, oh yeah, fixtures. His part, though, was done. The room had been taken down to the studs, the plumbers had done their part, and Knox had put in the new walls. It was the first time he’d done it on his own with only occasional supervision from Mendo, the construction manager, and Lance.
“It’s not exactly ready to show.” Caleb studied the small room like he was cramming for a test. “I can’t believe we’re on the last unit. It’s been a crazy project, hasn’t it?”
Knox grunted. He wasn’t going to get all emotional about a building, even if that building had brought his brothers back into his life. It was a moment in time, and like every other moment, it would end. His brain flashed to Danielle wrapped in her comforter, staring up at him with her cheeks flushed from her most recent orgasm. Except that moment—that moment he intended to draw out for as long as possible.
Lance crammed himself into a bathroom meant for one, possibly two people, at a time. “Little crowded, huh? Maybe we should’ve taken out more walls. Want to start over, guys? I’m sure Adam could draw us up some new plans in no time.”
Caleb groaned. “Absolutely not. I’m ready for this to be done. If I have to go to one more zoning meeting…”
“Did I hear someone take my name in vain?” Adam crowded into the small room, and Knox started to feel like one of those clowns in a VW Bug whirling around a circus tent at full speed. Adam stood a good half foot taller than the three brothers, which gave him an excellent view of the ceiling when he craned his neck. “Is that a leak?”
“Son of a—” Lance planted his fists on his hips and looked straight up.
“Gotcha!” Adam laughed. “Everything’s perfect. Like I’d design a leaking building.”
“Anything can happen in an old building,” Caleb said, his tone resigned. He’d be living in the Dorothy for the foreseeable future, so all upcoming issues would be his to handle.
“Speaking of.” Knox stepped into the hallway, a clown escaping the car, and motioned Adam to follow him. “Can you take a look at my back deck? I’m hoping a few new boards will fix it, but I’m afraid it might be structural.”
“Probably is.” Adam ran his finger down the new trim on the door. “You need to learn an important lesson about homeownership. Whatever the worst-case scenario is? That’s the answer. However much money you think it’s going to cost? Multiply that by three, and you’ll probably still be lowballing it.” He laughed at his own joke.
“So you’ll take a look?” Knox didn’t laugh. Adam was no stand-up comedian, and the truth of what he was saying hit a little too close to home. Still, he wanted to do as much as he
could before he left to increase the resale value when he put it on the market.
Adam checked the time on his phone. “I’ve got a few minutes. Want to head across the street?”
Knox answered by leading the way out. Adam followed, and Caleb caught up with them.
“Thought you were taking that job in Atlanta after the wedding.”
Knox’s jaw clenched. He still owed Morales a text with all the details of his move, but the details were more complicated now. There was Sarge to consider. His leg and how it didn’t seem to be getting better no matter how many PT exercises he forced himself to do every day. And Danielle. Would she pick up everything to live in Atlanta? He couldn’t imagine her leaving her dad, Homestretch, her morning coffee club at Fur Haven. Could he even ask that of her? On the other hand, she was looking to move, to find a new job. Maybe now was the perfect time to ask her.
Caleb stopped, effectively blocking Knox from continuing down the hallway. “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”
Nosy little brothers. “Nothing has changed.” Except everything had. He still had some time to figure it out. Caleb’s wedding was in a couple of days, and the finishing work on the last unit would be done a few weeks later. Would that be enough time to get Danielle on board with Atlanta? How bad could a ten-hour drive with eleven dogs possibly be?
“Oh yeah.” A few minutes later, after Sarge had checked everyone out and collected a round of petting, Adam surveyed Knox’s back deck with a grimace. “Whole thing’s rotting. Better to rip it out and start over.”
“Before or after you sell it?” Like the annoying little brother he was, Caleb had trailed after them. Sarge stood at his side, levering Caleb’s hand for more pats.
“Maybe I’ll keep it. As an investment. You know, wait until the market’s better.” Knox settled into the idea. If he didn’t sell, he could come back anytime. He hated to admit it, but he’d miss Caleb and Lance in a way he never would’ve believed when he’d taken off for the Marines all those years ago. Back then, they’d been reluctant relatives, forced together by Caleb’s mom and their dad’s negligent attentions. Would he have ever enlisted if he’d had the kind of connection back then that he had with them now? No sense in rewriting history. Lots of mistakes had been made, leaving Danielle his biggest regret, but not knowing his brothers now a close second. The only thing he could control was his future, and he’d promised Morales his future would be in Atlanta. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a place on the Beach, too, did it? No, it did not.
