Chapter 18 #2
I laugh, the sound practiced but not entirely fake. “Sorry, my phone’s broken.” That line has saved me from enough come ons. It’s not a good excuse, but they usually take the hint. Not this guy though.
“I could buy you a new one.” He winks, and I notice his friends exchanging knowing glances. “I’d be happy to pay for whatever you want.”
Did he just offer to be my sugar daddy? He’s not even daddy age. What would that make him? My sugar buddy? Either way, not interested. “That’s sweet, but—”
“She’s good.” A deep voice cuts through our exchange.
I don’t need to look up to know who it belongs to. My body recognizes it before my brain does, heart tripping over itself as that familiar rumble that used to make teenage-me dizzy with want brushes down my spine.
Knox stands at the bar, flanked by Brax and Jax. The Williams brothers in all their glory, looking like they walked straight off the cover of some “Hot Country Boys” calendar. Work boots. Jeans. Carhartt shirts.
Tourist Guy straightens, his gaze flicking between me and the three men glaring at him. Jax, in particular, looks like he’s calculating how many punches it would take to make this guy regret even looking my way. My body warms from head to toe. Apparently possessive and aggressive is my type.
The guy doesn’t deserve Jax’s intimidation though. “Your shots are on the house.” I push them toward Tourist Guy. “Enjoy the festival.”
He finally registers the visual daggers aimed in his direction and steps back. “Thanks. We’ll, uh, be moving along.”
I watch him leave with his friends before turning to the brothers. “Was the murder-stare really necessary?”
Jax bristles and pretends to be offended. “Murder-stare? That was my I’ll-break-your-kneecaps stare.”
“Uh-huh. You guys realize you can’t threaten everyone who thinks I’m cute, otherwise you’d be picking a fight with the whole world,” I tease.
“Fine by me,” Brax says, checking me out. “You look pretty.”
A blush warms my cheeks. “Uh, thanks.” I grab a rag and wipe down the plastic tablecloth, needing something to do with my hands. “Are you three enjoying the festival? Or are you only here to cause trouble?”
“We helped set up the entire main stage,” Brax counters.
“And hauled all the kegs for Maura,” Jax adds.
Knox watches me, silent and intense. What’s that man thinking and why do I have a feeling it’s something about how easily he could devour me?
“Can you take a break?” Knox finally asks.
“I’m working.”
“Twenty minutes.” He leans closer. “Please, Callie Mae.”
The way he says my full name makes my stomach flip.
“Sally Mae!” Brax calls toward the other side of the drink station where my mom is filling up shot glasses with Jager.
She glances over and grins. “About time you showed up! Want a Jager bomb?”
“We wanted to take Callie for a ride,” Jax says, flashing her that charming smile.
Take me for a ride or take me on a ride? Maybe both? I wouldn’t be opposed, but given how that went for us last time, I don’t know.
Mom catches my hesitation and her grin quirks toward world domination. “Oh yeah, go on, take thirty. Lord knows these boys need supervision.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve got the bar. Now get out of here before I make you drink a Jager bomb.”
My stomach revolts at the thought. I rip off my apron as she chuckles and hightail it to safety. A few minutes later, we’re standing at the base of the massive Ferris wheel that dominates the festival skyline. My stomach drops looking at it. Did this thing get bigger?
“Seriously? This is where you’re dragging me?” I stare at the metal death trap warily.
“Still brave, Alley cat?” Knox’s words send a shiver down my spine. They all know I’m scared of heights, and they all know that I’ll get on the ride to prove that I can. I’m stubborn like that.
“Is this rusty contraption up to code?”
Brax grins. “It’s perfectly safe. We checked all the permits.”
“Sure you did.” I sigh. I’m not going to let a kiddie ride scare me. I’m an adult. I can do adult things like get into a rocking bucket that’ll plunge toward the ground. No problem. It’s fine. Totally fine. It’s fine.
It’ll be a quick death.
The operator waves us forward and ushers us into one of the four-person buckets. I find myself next to Knox, our thighs pressed together in the small space, while Brax and Jax settle in across from us.
The safety bar comes down with a clank that sounds too flimsy for something meant to prevent us from plummeting to our deaths.
“This is a terrible idea,” I mutter as the wheel begins to move, lifting us backward and upward.
We aren’t even going full speed, but my head swims as we rise higher. These rides should be illegal. A warm, callused hand covers my thigh and squeezes gently.
“Breathe, Callie,” Knox murmurs.
I inhale sharply, suddenly aware I’d been holding my breath.
When I glance at him, his eyes hold mine with an intense familiarity that makes me forget about the height.
Knox could have the world in his hands, but the way he looks at me tells me I’d still be one of his favorite people.
I offer him a shaky smile, and his hand relaxes but doesn’t leave my leg.
Instead, his palm treks up my thigh, rough and callused.
The hands of a hardworking man. Tingles rush over my skin as his palm glides back down my leg only to start the torturous process again.
Across from us, I notice Brax and Jax watching our interaction with matching expressions of interest. Something unspoken passes between them.
The bucket lurches and I gasp, hand flying out to grasp the metal frame. “Jesus fucking Christ!”
“I don’t think Jesus was allowed to fuck,” Jax quips.
Glaring at him, I take a breath, relaxing my death hold.
“I bet that guy down there sells insurance,” Jax says suddenly, pointing to someone in the crowd below.
I follow his finger, grateful for the distraction. He’s wearing slacks. Way too self-important. “Too stuffy. Financial advisor.”
“Nah, look at those shoes. Definitely a dentist,” Brax counters.
The wheel picks up speed, and my hair whips around my face in the breeze. I reach up to gather it, but Knox beats me to it, his fingers brushing my cheek as he tucks the strands behind my ear.
“Thanks,” I whisper, turning toward him. My breath catches and my throat goes dry. Our faces are inches apart, his breath warm against my lips. Knox’s focus drops to my mouth, and something electric passes between us. My heart hammers, and I can’t blame my rushing pulse on the height anymore.
In one fluid motion, Knox’s hand slides to the back of my neck and pulls me forward, crushing his mouth to mine.
I make a startled sound against his lips, but when his fingers thread through my hair, tugging gently, something inside me yields. I soften against him, and he groans low in his throat. That sound vibrates through me.
He kisses me like a man drowning, like I’m oxygen, like we’re picking up right where we should have left off a decade ago. Tasting me like he regrets ever choosing someone else.
Our bucket swings past the crowd. Whistles and cheers erupt. I break away with a gasp, my lips tingling and my breath ragged. My fingers brush over my mouth and I study Knox.
His eyes are dark, feral, fixed on me with such raw hunger that I have to look away or burn up under his gaze.
“About fucking time,” Jax mutters.
I glance at the twins, expecting. . . Jealousy? Anger? But they’re both smiling, exchanging a look that seems suspiciously like satisfaction.
“What just happened?” I ask, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.
“Ten years of built-up tension exploding?” Brax suggests helpfully.
My head spins, and not from the height. “You’re not upset?”
“Why would we be?” Jax asks.
Before I can figure out how to respond, the wheel slows as we approach the landing. Knox’s hand pulses on my thigh. The touch claiming. Reassuring and unnerving all at the same time. My heart tugs in three different directions.
“Come over tonight,” he says. “After the festival.”
It’s not a question, not quite a command. More of a certainty.
“With all of you?” I ask, looking between them. What are they up to?
“Yes,” they answer in unison.
Butterflies erupt in my stomach. I’m sure that’s not what they mean, but I can’t help picturing all three of them naked in bed with me.
That’s not how this works though. At some point, I’m going to have to choose.
And I don’t want to. I should probably run in the opposite direction, not longing to fall right back into their chaos.
“Okay but I need a ride.”
Jax smirks. “We can drive you.”
My stomach flutters at the thought of being in close quarters with these three. The Ferris wheel comes to a stop, but I have the distinct feeling I’m still falling, and this time, the Williams brothers are waiting to catch me.