Chapter 22 #2
It wasn’t until Lan hit The Surf Club to pick up Knox (and get a coffee from Tex and one of Willow’s sugar cookies from the case) and he told me he’d catch a Lyft, come back, have a late lunch and hang with me until my shift was over, that I realized his shift that day was ten to two.
He’d spent two and a half hours at the bar at SC drinking coffee, eating a cupcake, doing shit on his phone and gabbing to the girls when we had time.
If he came back after his shift, he’d be hanging around for an hour and a half, probably doing much the same.
Which meant it wasn’t until after he was gone, I realized my man did not want me to walk to my car and get another unwelcome visitor and have another distressing chat.
Even in figuring this out, I didn’t fight him on it.
Like The Kevster said, a man had to do what a man had to do.
However, being stymied by Cheyenne in discussing getting a message to Gypsy, and then that message being delivered direct from Knox, with Byron in his corner with his laptop, I got another idea.
So I made him a dirty chai and headed his way.
When he saw me coming, he seemed wary.
Since I was no way going to tease him about his talents in feeling a bitch up, I just smiled at him, set his mug down and slid in a chair opposite him.
“I’m not gonna hand you shit about dating my sister,” I assured.
He relaxed and reached for his dirty chai.
“But I am going to ask for a favor,” I carried on.
His eyes came to me over the rim of his cup.
Yeah, he was kind of cute. Not my gig, but with all I knew, and what I saw, I was totally feeling him for Dream.
“This isn’t an Angel favor,” I said. “It’s personal.
And it doesn’t have to be secret.” I was making this up on the fly, but it didn’t need to be secret, since whatever he learned I was going to tell Knox because that was the whole point of asking Byron to look into her.
“It also isn’t a priority, because I know you’re busy saving the world and such. ”
He put his mug down and was all ears.
“I want you to find out everything you can about a woman named Cynthia Chambers,” I requested. “I don’t have much to give you, outside the fact she’s Knox’s mother, she used to live in Tucson, and she currently drives a BMW.”
I figured the Nightingale team looked into Knox before they hired him, and because they were who they were, and Knox’s family was what it was, that vetting would be thorough.
But that was then.
Her surprise showing up in Phoenix, knowing to stay out of camera range at the Oasis and driving a Beemer, this was now.
Sure, Gypsy could have given her the heads-up about the cameras.
Or, perhaps, not.
“Leave it with me,” Byron replied.
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“Sure.”
“That easy?”
“I have a project deadline today, but even so, I’ll have a full briefing on her by tomorrow morning.”
That seemed fast.
Like, faster than Arthur fast.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your, erm…employers.”
“Luna, I have programs that run in the background that do all the work for me. I’ll just put her name in, go back and refine the search so I know it’s digging into who we want it to dig into, and done. And it will barely interfere with what I have to do today.”
“Well…cool.”
He smiled.
My phone buzzed in my apron.
I got up and grabbed the spent mug on the table.
But before leaving, I said, “Thank you.”
“No probs,” he replied.
“No. I mean, yeah. About the search. But also about making my sister feel like a woman, a desired one, not just a mom with three kids hanging on her. Being interested in her, what she does, who she is. And for buying a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne on your date and making her feel special.”
Byron stared up at me.
“You guys don’t get how little it takes. Be decent. Be interested. Listen. Care. Boom. You win,” I concluded.
“Uh…” Byron said.
My phone buzzed in my apron again.
“You don’t have to reply. And no pressure. I’m rooting for you guys, but shit happens. Unless you stop doing any of those things I mentioned, you’ll still be my friend Byron.”
“Thanks, Luna,” he said quietly.
I smiled at him and walked the mug to the busser tub while pulling out my phone.
It was a group text from Zach.
And when I pulled it up, I saw the group was humungous.
MANDATORY WEDDING COMMITTEE MEETING!!!!! Tonight, courtyard, 8:00. No excuses for absences will be accepted. We’re in countdown mode, people!
I stared at my phone.
Raye came up to me. “Zach’s text?”
I nodded to her.
“I got it too,” she said.
“When did we get on the wedding committee?” I asked.
“The guys are going to get the rental stuff and they’ll set it up.
You and me are helping Patsy with the flowers.
Willow and Shanti are setting up the cake and acting as point people for the caterers.
Jessie and Harlow are responsible for handling the bar.
Joey and Gemma are bride and bridesmaid runners. ”
She was set to keep speaking, but I cut her off saying, “I know all of that. And I know my assignment. What I didn’t know was that I was on a committee because I know my assignment, therefore I wasn’t aware I had to sit at a committee meeting to confirm I know my assignment.”
“Maybe Alexis needs to know everyone is on the ball,” Raye suggested.
That I could do.
“Gotcha.”
She took off.
My phone buzzed again, and since it was in my hand, I looked down at it.
It was from Mom.
Sunday family lunch! Can you make it?
Hmm.
I went out of her text and into my string with Knox.
Mom wants a Sunday family lunch. You cool to come out to them about us on Sunday?
I had some food up, so I took it to its table and got a text while doing it.
After I laid it down, I went behind the bar and read Knox’s reply.
Absolutely.
I smiled and texted Mom, I’m bringing Knox. Is that okay?
To which she replied, Of course, sweetie!
Then came, How’s he doing?
Much better. That was me.
I’m SO glad! That was Mom.
I know you’re helping with the cleanup of the wedding, so lunch around 2:00 or 3:00. Okay? Also Mom.
Sounds good. Me.
Love you, my sugar pack of goodness!!!!! Totes Mom.
Okay, maybe she was beginning to reach a bit when it came to her endearments.
I smiled, dropped a heart on her last text and sent one to Dream.
Heads up. Knox and I are coming out at the Sunday lunch with M&D.
Not long later, my phone buzzed to tell me Dream had dropped a thumbs up on it.
Not long after that, I got another text from Knox.
How did I get on a wedding committee?
I busted out laughing.
I sent him a shrug emoji. I followed that up with a kiss emoji (the one that was just the lips). And I followed that with, We don’t have any choice. We’re going.
He didn’t drop a thumbs up on the text. He sent the emoji.
After that, I got back to work.
* * *
After work, we went home, took Jacques out for a good walk then were back at my place, and Knox was putting the leash on the hook, muttering, “I hope I’m cleared to drive tomorrow because this ride thing is sucking huge.”
“My poor baby,” I cooed as I hit the fridge to get a drink. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah.”
I got his beer. Then, since the bottle of red was opened, I went for that.
He was on the couch with the TV on.
I looked at the TV, then to him, scrunched my lips to the side, all of this before I walked his beer to him.
“Thanks, baby,” he muttered to the TV as he took the beer.
I sat cross-legged beside him.
“Uh, Knox?”
“Yeah?” he said to the TV.
“Can we have a short but important convo?”
He turned his head to me. “What’s up?”
“Well—”
His eyes narrowed on me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“So, what’s up?”
Before I could answer, a knock came at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Knox said, angling out of the couch, putting his beer on the coffee table, and Jacques kept him company as he went to the door.
He looked through the peephole, smiled, opened the door and stepped aside.
Shirleen strode in, and Jacques barked his greeting to her.
She sent kissy noises to him while I greeted, “Hey, Shirleen.”
She dumped two bags on my armchair. One was a Nordstrom bag. The other was just a brown paper bag, but it was sizeable.
“Hello, child, all good?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, eyeing the bags.
“I can’t stay,” she said. “I want to be nowhere near Tod when this wedding meeting is happening. I don’t have an assignment, and I don’t want one. I want to dress up, show up, watch people get married, then eat cake and dance my ass off. So…bye.”
With that, she swept out.
Jacques barked at the door, miffed at being dissed even for a head scratch.
Important note: Jacques liked kissy noises. But he preferred scratches.
“What was that?” I asked as Knox went to the bags.
He started with the Nordstrom one.
He pulled out a shoebox.
A Tom Ford shoebox.
He tipped open the lid, shoved aside some tissue, smiled at what he saw inside, then handed the box to me.
I set down my wine, completely opened the lid, folded back the tissue and had a shoe orgasm.
In it was a pair of emerald-green patent leather strappy sandals with a gold heel that were so much nicer than the ones that were in the trash, it wasn’t funny.
Was I actually feeling happy I got in a catfight in a nice restaurant owned by a mob boss so I could eventually end up with this pair of shoes?
Yes.
Yes, staring into that shoebox, I was feeling that whole debacle was sooooo worth it.
I was still shoe orgasming when something landed on my head and Knox landed on his ass beside me.
Before I even knew what it was (though, I figured I knew what it was), Jacques barked twice, indicating his approval.
I pulled it off my head and saw it was an acorn-colored Stetson with a braided band.
It was shit hot.
Not as shit hot as the shoes but still shit hot.
I looked to Knox. “You asked Shirleen to shop for me?”
“Woulda done it myself, but I can’t drive,” he replied.
No.
He would have Lyfted to the mall, or whatever.
But that would have meant he couldn’t come to SC to make sure I walked to my car without one of his family or ex-girlfriends pouncing on me.
“You know, I can take care of myself, most of the time,” I said softly.
His brows drew together. “Why did you say that?”
“Because you went out of your way to escort me to my car today.”
His lips thinned.
Oh yeah.
I’d called it.
I leaned to him, touched mine to his, they unthinned, and I sat back.
“You do what you gotta do. Just sayin’.” I lifted hat and shoebox. “And thank you for these, honey. I love them. They’re perfect.”
“Another reason to send Shirleen. She’s good at that shit.”
She sure was.
“You wanna try the shoes on?” he asked.
I sure did.
I put the hat on my head and the shoes on my feet.
I then got up and modeled both.
They didn’t go together.
But I rocked them.
“Fuck, I’m getting hard,” Knox said, watching me sashay around my living room with Jacques following me.
I stopped and noted, “We have time for a quickie.”
“C’mere,” he murmured.
I went there.
Jacques went there.
I climbed astride my man.
Jacques pushed in between us.
Knox put his hands to my ass.
I petted my dog.
“Before we do this,” he began, “was that ‘I can take care of myself’ thing what you wanted to talk about?”
“Sorry?”
“The short but important convo.”
Oh.
Damn.
He gave my ass a squeeze. “Luna.”
Honesty. Putting it out there.
Ugh.
“Okay, so, I was thinking, before we descend into small shit we don’t deal with that becomes bigger shit because we didn’t deal with it and it becomes a problem, I thought maybe we could make a pact to be sure we address that small shit that might become bigger shit.”
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“Now, I’ll preface this by saying, I know you’re super into sports.”
Another ass squeeze and a murmured, “Baby,” told me he knew where this was going.
I still took it there.
“But I’m kinda not.”
“I hear you,” he said softly.
“I also don’t have the TV on all the time.”
He nodded.
“I like to listen to music. I also like quiet. Not that I don’t like TV. You know I do. I just don’t like it on all the time.”
“Right.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m never down to watch sports.
Just that I don’t want to have it the soundtrack of my life every night.
So I have a small pad, and you probably don’t want to miss games, but you don’t have anywhere to go so you can watch them without me having to watch or just hear them.
Your pad is bigger, but ditto with that. So, um…we need to figure this out.”
“NFL games, maybe not sacrosanct, but I look forward all year, if I don’t have to work, to chilling out and watching them. That’s a thing for me.”
“Okay.”
“World Series, NBA playoffs, March Madness, also things.”
Oh boy.
These occasions were stacking up.
I nodded.
“And I don’t like to miss any of the tennis grand slam finals.”
This just kept getting worse.
I bit my lip.
Knox slid his hands up my back. “Baby, none of those are more important than you.”
I relaxed.
“You got something on when a game is on, and you want me with you, I’m there,” he stated.
“You got something you wanna watch, we can discuss who’s gonna tape and watch later.
You don’t want it always on in the house, I can go to one of the guys’ houses and watch or round up some buds and go to a bar. This is doable.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“You aren’t gonna be a sports widow.”
He said that so firmly, it was like the words were etched between us.
My guy was the greatest guy alive.
I touched my hat, lifted my foot and touched my heel.
Then I said, “You’re the best, Knox Chambers.”
He grinned.
Jacques punctuated my statement by leaping to his face and licking his jaw.
I grinned.
Jacques leapt out of the way when I bent to kiss my man.
What happened next wasn’t a quickie, per se.
But as usual, it was awesome.