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Fall: Montgomery Men #3

Page 6

by Harms, C. A.


  The wooden chair feels more like a toddler’s seat as I cautiously place my large frame in it. I hear her snicker and offer a sly grin as I lift the coffee to my lips.

  “Your countdown begins now, Montgomery,” Tinley challenges me. “I’d say I’ve got about ten to fifteen, tops, to empty this cup. I agreed to a cup of coffee, so here we are.”

  “Are we in that eighty-two percent that you mentioned before?” When she mocks being offended, I almost shoot coffee out of my nostrils.

  “Are you calling me cranky?”

  “In my opinion, I think you should have broken that timeframe down a little more specifically.”

  “Oh yeah, and how would you’ve suggested I done that?”

  “I may not know you extremely well, but I think I’ve picked up on a few of your many ‘moods.’” Jesus, I just used fucking air quotes. And from the way she raises her brows and bites her lip, I’m positive she is thinking the same thing.

  “Tell me, oh wise one.” I’ve lost count of the many times she has smiled at me since she walked in the door. All I know is it feels unbelievable, every single time.

  “I’ll give you the eighteen for sleeping.” I lean forward, placing my elbows on the table and staring straight at her. “Twenty-five for your so-called moodiness and being cranky.”

  “You truly have no idea what you are talking about.” I hold up my hand to shh her and she laughs. I’m not talking about a little snicker, I mean a full-on belly laugh.

  “Simmer down now, woman, let me talk here.” I wave my hand in her direction, and she motions for me to continue. “I got just a small glimpse of sweet.” She tries to argue and I shake my head no. “I said a small glimpse, though I think you hide that part of you well. I’ll give that a ten percent. Another ten for fun, though again I do believe there is more of that girl I’ve yet to see.”

  “You are so far off that you aren’t even in the same city as me, but please, do continue. I don’t think I’ve felt this much humor in a very long time.”

  “Deflective.” I watch as she falters just a bit, losing a fraction of her spunkiness. I understand I am playing with fire, going in a direction that may send her running, but I couldn’t stop. “That category gets a solid twenty percent. It’s a coping mechanism and turns the attention away from you.” I pause, watching as she bites at her lower lip. “That leaves me with seventeen, yet I feel that is not enough for the last category, and may truly have to rethink all my percentages.”

  “I think you need to rehash this entire thing out again because you couldn’t be more wrong. I am one hundred percent moody and cranky, and I love my solitude. All I need is myself and a good bottle of Moscato, then I am golden.”

  “Timid.” Tinley flinches, her gaze averts to the table and she worries her lip. “I think you hide it well. You pretend that you aren’t but it’s there in the way you worry your lip or look away to avoid eye contact. Like if you allow anyone to see into those gorgeous blues too long, they’d be able to figure out all your insecurities and your deepest fears. Much like you are doing now.”

  She looks up and narrows her eyes at me. “I’m not timid, I’m not fun, and I’m sure as hell not sweet.”

  I should have mentioned angry and defensive, but doing that now would for sure get me slapped.

  “Then prove me wrong.” I shrug, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Let me guess…go out with you again?”

  “You want to convince me that you have nothing to offer, that you’re cranky, moody, and sarcastic? Spend some more time with me. Let me be the judge of that.”

  “I have never met a man that is so gluttonous for punishment. Why surround yourself with the Ice Queen and her nasty ways when you can go out and pick up a sweet girl who will fawn all over you? There is really nothing good that will come of this.” She motions between us. “I’ll continue to pull away, being my normal fun self,” she says, dripping with the Tinley sarcasm I’d just mentioned, all while wearing a smile that may frighten those who haven’t already figured her out. “And you’ll eventually tire of the bitchiness and decide that I’m not worth all the trouble.”

  “Do you push everyone away? Or is it just those who you fear you may actually feel something for?” The words leave my mouth before I have the chance to weigh them. “Am I the only one who gets you this fired up, or is it simply because I’ve pinpointed that you aren’t the version of yourself that you pretend to be?”

  “Like I said, you don’t have a clue.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything.” Tinley places her hands flat on the table, one on either side of her coffee. “I don’t like anyone in my space, I don’t like pushy, and I sure as hell don’t like someone telling me I’m something I’m not.”

  “Seems I’ve hit a nerve.” Fuck, it’s almost as though my filter is nonexistent. I am pushing when I should be retreating, but damn if I could control myself. My father’s words, pick your battles, were screaming in my mind. “You’re even more beautiful when you get pissed off.”

  “This is not pissed off.” Tinley stands tall and leans over the table, getting her face close to my own. The scent of coconut hits me as her hair falls forward over her shoulders. “This is me, very annoyed by an arrogant prick who thinks I owe him something I’m not willing to give. That’s a mistake I won’t repeat. I will never let a man take away my power again.”

  My stomach hit rock bottom as she pushes back and walks out of the café, leaving her full coffee on the table before me. Her words repeat in my mind and with each one I feel more nauseated. I will never let a man take away my power again.

  Jumping up, I hurry after her and yell for her as she steps onto the curb across the busy street. When she looks back over her shoulder with an unsettled look on her face, it’s like a kick to the stomach. Stepping out into the street, I look left and right, chancing the crossing even with the approaching traffic. Horns blare from a few passing cars and their passengers holler out words I choose to ignore. My focus is solely on the irritated blonde who stood watching me like I’d lost my damned mind.

  Who knows? Maybe I have.

  “I’m sorry.” The words rush out as I step closer to her. “I was out of line, I shouldn’t have said those things. It’s just—”

  Telling her that around her I can’t seem to control myself or my thoughts feels like the wrong thing to say.

  “You don’t know me.”

  My gaze meets hers and the hesitation that lays there again makes me feel weakness deep in my stomach.

  “You’re right,” I nodded, “I don’t. But I want to.”

  “What is it you get out of all of this? Do you enjoy seeing me squirm?”

  “No.” I wanted nothing more than to reach for her and pull her close. “What I get is the company of an amazing woman. You may not see it, Tinley, but I do and if all I get out of this is your friendship, then that will be enough for me.”

  “You’re insane.” The words are barely above a whisper, but I hear them clearly. A small smile covers her lips and for the first time in the last ten minutes, I feel like the knot in my stomach eased just a little.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tinley

  “What can I get for you today?” I am so focused on finding a new sheet on my mini notepad that I neglect to notice the familiar face, or I should say faces that are sitting in my section.

  “You look very familiar,” the blonde said first, with a perplexed look on her face. Before I have the chance to respond, the other woman leans closer and reaches out to touch her hand. “From the anniversary party.” They both smile knowingly, then the oh-too-pretty man at the table with them practically wiggles in his seat. His hair is styled perfectly and if I’m not mistaken, he is wearing eye liner.

  “She’s the beauty that has caught our Knoxville’s eye.” The way he says “our Knoxville” makes him sound like a possession.

  I feel completely on display as
my stomach tightens and the normal sarcasm I’d throw out instantly fails me. I find it impossible to be bitchy to any of them, almost like their opinions of me matter, which leaves me even more confused.

  “From what Ashton says, this gorgeous girl has King Cool all twisted up.” Again, I remain frozen as the three of them smile, apparently pleased by the guy’s words.

  “I like you already.” The man winks at me and I feel my cheeks heat. What the fuck? I do not blush, like ever, but there is something about this guy that makes it uncontrollable.

  “I’m Shanelle.” The first woman reaches out toward me to offer her hand.

  “Tinley,” I whisper, immediately noticing the uncertainty in my voice.

  “Are you sure?” she asks playfully, and I finally smile in return, suddenly feeling more like myself.

  The others hurry to offer their names too. Kinsley is married to Ashton, and Lexington works for the eldest Montgomery brother. It only takes a short time for me to gather that Lexington is just as mesmerized by the Montgomery men as the rest of the girls sitting with him are. Especially Beckett, which seems to humor Shanelle.

  “So tell us, what is Knoxville like when he’s not sulking and wearing that intimidating look he wears often?”

  “Annoying.” I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest and jutting out my hip, shifting on my feet. “Pushing, demanding and—”

  “Dedicated,” Lexington adds with a happy squeal. “I heard him tell Ashton that the woman is sassy, but he had no intentions of giving up. I assume the woman is you.” He arches his brow, and again I find the sarcastic, snotty comment I would normally offer fading fast. Truth be told, I may not know this group very well, but they seem like the kind of people who would be hard not to like.

  “Is he always this determined?”

  “They all are.” Kinsley laughed and the other two nodded. “I remember trying to deny Ashton in the beginning, and the harder I pushed him away, the more he held on.”

  “Yep,” Shanelle piped up. “Beckett was the same. But being caught was oh so good.”

  “I bet it was,” Lex adds dreamingly. “Oh to be caught by one of those three. A man can dream.”

  I find myself laughing right along with the other girls. It feels nice to let my guard down, even if only for a short time.

  * * *

  Unknown: When do I get to see you again?

  I stare at my phone for the longest time, wondering how in the hell Knoxville got my number. Then I remember what the man does for a living and understand that if he looks hard enough, he’d find more than just my phone number. A sick feeling hits me when I think of all the morbid details of my past that are hidden deep and knowing he could find them so easily if he truly wanted to.

  Knox: I know right now you’re thinking if you ignore me long enough I’ll go away. Just so you know, that is not the case.

  I don’t want the things I’d left behind when I came to New York to resurface. So, I take in a deep breath and type out a response. It is easy to let go a little when I’m not standing face-to-face with the man who makes my knees weak and my heart race.

  Me: I don’t ever remember agreeing to have dinner with you.

  I quickly save Knoxville’s number in my phone just before it vibrates with the arrival of a new message.

  Knox: You most definitely agreed to dinner, and I think there was mention of a movie too.

  Me: Now you’re really reaching for the stars, old man.

  Knox: Old man, really?

  Me: Uh oh, did I hit a nerve?

  Knox: Not at all, I was just considering all the ways that I could actually show you that I am, in fact, not an old man.

  I find myself staring at my phone with a smile on my face.

  Me: I think I saw gray hair in your goatee the other day.

  Knox: Stop deflecting woman!

  This time I actually laugh out loud as I lean back against my headboard and cross one ankle over the other.

  Knox: Back to the purpose of this chat, dinner. When and where? You get to choose.

  Me: Wow, really? I feel so lucky.

  Knox: Smartass. But you should, because I rarely hand over the reins to anyone. But I find I’d go just about anywhere and eat anything if it meant I got to spend time with you.

  My thumbs hover over the letters, but I’m not sure how to respond to that. The man is a mixture of everything, it seems, and I don’t know what to do with the many dimensions of Knoxville. The urge to run is buried quickly in favor of the need for the carefree feelings he inflicts whenever I allow myself to feel them.

  Knox: Again, I will not go away when ignored.

  I bite my lip to hold back my laughter. I can almost imagine him holding his phone and staring at it, willing a response from me. Part of me wanted to make him wait, to see just how antsy I could force him to get.

  Knox: Don’t force me to show up on your doorstep.

  He wouldn’t.

  Me: You wouldn’t.

  Knox: I would. Dinner?

  Me: You are by far the most annoying person I’ve ever met.

  Knox: Dinner?

  What the…? He is such a pest.

  I am halfway through typing the next message when my phone begins to ring, and my heart feels like it lurches forward against my ribcage. I can’t talk to him. Hearing his voice, that heavy rumble, that sexy tone, makes it hard to think clearly.

  On the third ring just before it rolls to voicemail, I hit the green button and slowly bring the phone to my ear. “My treat, but you pick the place.” My pulse races. “No pressure, I told you that and I meant it. Friends, Tinley, no expectations, just two people getting to know one another.”

  “Yep, that is what you said.”

  “So, we start with dinner.” It is the strangest feeling to not second guess his intentions. There is no part of me that feels what he is saying is a ploy to get me alone. “We can meet there, though I’ll admit right now that I’d rather know you’re safe in my car instead of in the back of a cab.”

  “Oh, but would I truly be safe trapped in a car with you?” I am still caught in that playful mood Knoxville seemed to bring out in me after a round of harmless texting.

  “You’ll always be safe with me, Tinley.” There is no trace of humor in Knoxville’s voice. “One day you’ll learn to believe that.”

  Silence fell over us, just the sounds of each other breathing through the opposite end of the line. Again, I trust that he is being honest.

  “I have no idea where to go.” My life consists of leftovers from the many events where I worked, the café food, and tv dinners. “Olive Garden,” I say in a rush and when he laughs, I hang my head, feeling like such a dweeb.

  “I’ll take you to Olive Garden, sweetheart, if that is really where you want to go, but I was thinking of something a little different.”

  “Fancy to me is using real silverware instead of plastic.” The sad part is, I wasn’t joking.

  “Do you mind if I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.” At this point I needed him to end my torture.

  “Have you ever been to The River Cafe?”

  “My friend Nora has been there a couple times, but I haven’t.” Not that she hasn’t asked me to go along a time or two, but I’ve declined. I always said no, and am surprised they even bother to ask me anymore.

  “Let me take you there, tomorrow evening. The view of the Hudson River is gorgeous at night, with all the lights of the city. The food is really good, too.” Knoxville sounds so hopeful. “I could pick you up.”

  “Or I could meet you.” I hear him let out a long, exaggerated breath which makes me smile. “Seven, out front. I’ll be the one wearing the frumpy dress and worn-out heels.”

  “Somehow I doubt anything would look frumpy on you.” The way he says the words gives me chills along my arms and up my back. “I look forward to seeing you, Tinley.”

  “Me too.” It wasn’t a lie. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I am actually lookin
g forward to getting dressed up and going out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Knoxville

  I can’t remember a time when I have ever been so indecisive about my choice of clothing. Getting ready usually takes very little effort for me. Mostly I wore a sports jacket and jeans, but on occasion I went for something a little more formal. No tie—I hated fucking ties—but dress shirts don’t bother me, as long as I leave them unbuttoned a button or two.

  Yet tonight I’ve gone through every damn jacket I think I own and matched it with pants Lexington has mentioned a time or two that make my ass look amazing. Yes, I have actually reached that low and am now channeling my brother’s fashionable man-loving secretary to choose what to wear. Lord help me.

  Now here I stand outside The River Cafe, once again looking at myself, wondering if I should have gone with the dark blue blazer versus the light gray I’d chosen. I had paired it with a black dress shirt and dark pants.

  I am so preoccupied with myself that I miss the cab pulling up to the curb and the gorgeous blonde who climbed out of it. That is until I hear her sweet voice. “You clean up nice, Montgomery.”

  I have every intention of firing back at her with something equally sassy, but the moment I see her I feel the words fade, along with every other thought in my mind. Fuck me, she is breathtaking.

  “You look beautiful.”

  That didn’t even begin to describe her. She is wearing a pale blue dress that hits mid-thigh, with strappy silver heels that wrapped up and around her ankles. Her shoulders, neck and arms were exposed, except for the scarf she had wrapped around her and hanging along her side. Long tendrils of hair hang over her shoulders and down her back, and have my hands twitching as I imagine what they would feel as I run my fingers through its silkiness. “I told you, there’s no possible way you could look frumpy.”

 

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