CHAPTER 20
HAVEN
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
He. Is. Dead.
I feel like I should be doing something right now, but I’m barely capable of sitting up. I’m grateful Knox is holding me because he’s the only thing keeping me upright.
I’m not even sure how to explain what I’m feeling.
It’s an odd mix of sensations I’ve never experienced before.
For the most part, I feel relief. With his death, I don’t have to keep looking over my shoulder and wondering when he’s going to track me down, even though I wasn’t sure he was looking for me at all.
The thought of him coming after me because my bank fucked up and sent a letter when they shouldn’t have makes me a little sick to my stomach. I hadn’t been as cautious since coming to Denver because I had convinced myself I was safe. Finally safe.
If he would have found me, I wouldn’t have been ready. I would have been a sitting duck.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, my little storm,” Knox’s voice is gentle. “Talk to me.”
“Is it okay to be happy about this?”
“Yes,” he answers without any hesitation. “You can feel whatever you feel about this. You can be glad. You can be sad. You can even feel regret or grief. No one gets to tell you how to feel and just because you feel one way now doesn’t mean it won’t change. And that’s okay too.”
I look up at this man, my man, the man I never saw coming but managed to sneak into my life and make space for himself effortlessly. The way he’s accepted my emotions being all over the place, even though my ex hurt me, is remarkable.
When I reach over to his arm and pinch him, he jumps and shouts out, “Hey!” His face screws up into a scowl as he stares at me. “What was that for?”
“I needed to make sure that you’re real and I’m not dreaming you up,” I explain.
“Aren’t you supposed to pinch yourself when you think you might be dreaming?” His voice is incredulous, but there’s still a softness in his eyes which is always there when he looks at me.
“I guess,” I admit with a shrug, “but if I wasn’t dreaming then it would have hurt.”
I pout and bat my eyelashes at him, everything wrong in the world disappearing for a moment. Knox chuckles before closing the distance between us and peppering my face with kisses.
With a deep breath I tell him, “I’m ready to go back out there.”
“Do you want to head home? No one will be bothered by us leaving early?”
“No,” I insist, “Wilde is having too much fun.”
He tilts his head slightly as he studies me, his mossy green eyes intense as he looks me over. “What about you, little storm, are you having fun?”
“I am,” I chirp even though it feels a little wrong.
Maybe it’s time to embrace the wrong. Knox is right. I can be glad about his death because it frees me of my past and means I don’t have to worry for the rest of my life.
“Everyone is so nice and kind,” I gush.
“Just make sure to tell me if anyone is too nice or kind,” he grumbles in such a way that I can’t help but giggle. The little green-eyed monster peeking out of him is hilarious. Like I have room in my heart for someone else. It’s just not possible.
When he shifts me slightly like he’s about to stand up, I reach up and cup his jaw in my hands, my thumbs rubbing over the rough hair of his beard. He freezes, his eyelids dropping to half-mast as his eyes darken.
“Your family is not going to try and steal me from you,” I huff out and try not to smile at how ridiculous he’s being. “And everyone is already paired up,” I point out, clearly admonishing him. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m not taking any chances,” he grumbles mulishly.
I bite my lower lip before releasing it and blurting, “You have nothing to worry about, Knox. I’ve already fallen in love with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Knox freezes, his eyes going so wide that they look like they’re going to pop out of his head for a second. His hands flex where he’s holding me, his grip tightening.
He rasps, “What?”
“I’ve fallen in love with you,” I repeat myself, feeling emboldened by his reaction instead of unsure.
This man has shown up over and over again. He’s held strong and is always ready to prove his feelings with actions. I think he’s earned me repeating myself at least once.
“You love me?” The question is filled with disbelief. I giggle softly and nod, the smile on my face wide and bright. “I love you,” he says like it’s a revelation and not obvious as hell.
He’s never hidden how he’s felt about me. Sure, he didn’t say the words, and he tempered himself, but he never tried to be aloof or play games.
“Good,” I nod and jump off his lap and offer him my hand.
Even though he slips his hand in mine, he stands up completely under his own power. He winks at me and all I can do is roll my eyes. With his free hand, he wipes away the few tears still left on my cheeks.
“They weren’t because I’m sad,” I whisper.
“It would be okay if they are, Haven,” he insists. “You shared time with that person, and they’re gone. Outside of everything else, he was, at least biologically, part of bringing your amazing son into this world. You grieve however you need to.”
“See,” I grouse and blink a few times, “that’s the kind of thing that will make me cry. Stop being so sweet.”
A wicked grin overtakes Knox’s face as his hand slides down the side of my neck before his fingers wrap around and squeeze gently. “Would you rather me tell you all the ways I’ll have you moaning my name once we get home and put Wilde to bed?”
Two things happen at once with his words which contradict themselves. My chest warms with how easily and casually he mentions going home and putting my boy to bed. It’s a beautiful thing and it feels natural. My body also heats with the idea of spending time in bed with him again.
When I woke up this morning, my nightgown was back on, thankfully, and I was alone in an unfamiliar bed.
The only reason I knew shuffling into Knox’s room wasn’t a dream was because of the way his cedar and smoke scent wrapped around me.
Honestly, I didn’t like waking up alone, which was shocking to me.
But then I heard Wilde’s giggles in the distance. For a few moments, I reveled in the sound as I laid in bed and thought about Knox and how he simply showed up and was solid.
The thought of being back in Knox’s bed is pure fucking temptation.
“Not if you want me to be able to walk into the party and not look extra needy,” I inform him coyly while looking up at him from underneath my lashes.
“We better get moving,” his voice is extra husky as he ushers me out of the room and back toward the main living room area.
I can’t even think about the house. The thing is massive.
While the size of it isn’t surprising since Cole is the lead singer for Suburban Outcasts, I was a little surprised when we arrived and I found it to be one of a few houses on land on the outskirts of Denver.
Knox informed me that the running joke is that Cole is trying to create a commune.
If he is, I hope to get on the waiting list.
It’s beautiful out on their land and the house is gorgeous. What’s not to love?
When we step back into the living room, a few people look over at us with concern written all over their faces, but no one rushes over to me to demand answers. It puts something in me at ease.
Before we can wade back into talking to people and all the holiday cheer, Wilde comes running up with a huge smile on his face. “Mommy,” he exclaims, “can I spend the night with Ridge at his house? He’s the bestest friend I’ve ever had.”
My heart does a strange flip inside of my chest as I look down at my son. He has no idea that the man who helped give him life, our monster, is gone. I don’t know how or when I’m going to tell him, but I do know I don’t have to figure it out tonight.
Etheridge, Amelia and Beckett’s oldest son, comes rushing up to us with a hopeful look on his face.
I notice Amelia and Beckett making their way over as well.
Beckett is holding their youngest, Henry, who turned one not long ago.
The little one is resting his head on Beckett’s shoulder and looks like he’s about to lose his battle with falling asleep.
I gently ask, “Did either of you ask if it’s okay with Ridge’s parents? You can’t make plans without having the okay first. We don’t know their plans,” I inform Wilde.
His face falls, and I’m not surprised. This is the first time he’s ever asked to spend the night at someone’s house.
He never really had the chance before—there weren’t friends to speak of, and we kept to ourselves in our neighborhood.
For the last year, it wasn’t really a possibility, not like this.
When Amelia reaches us, she smiles down at the boys. “How about you two go and get a drink for me and Haven?” She rubs her neck and swallows audibly, “I’m very thirsty.”
Beckett coughs to cover up his laughter and Wilde turns toward him, “Do you need a drink too, Mr. Beckett?”
“If you’re grabbing it, I won’t say no,” Beckett tells him with a smile on his face.
“You got it,” Wilde chirps and the boys head off together. I watch them for a moment, but I’m not worried about either of them. If they need help, there are plenty of adults around who treat all the kids like they matter. Wilde has been included without anyone thinking twice about it.
“It really would be fine if Wilde spent the night with us,” Amelia keeps her voice low. “We’re planning on sleeping in tomorrow and making brunch because I have a feeling some people will wander over to our place before too long.”
“Oh,” Troy slides in next to Amelia and wraps one of his arms around her shoulders, “did I hear brunch is at your place tomorrow?”
I blink at them as Beckett eyes Troy’s arm, the threat written all over his face. Even after Troy glances toward Amelia’s husband, he’s unbothered. When I look over at Knox, the look he shoots me says it all—see, this is what I was talking about.
“No,” Beckett growls, “that is not what she said.”