16. Knox
KNOX
W e’re parked.
The engine’s off.
I should be getting out, but my hands are locked around the steering wheel like it’s the only thing tethering me to the universe.
People are already looking.
It’s been all of thirty seconds since we pulled in, and I can feel their eyes on us through the windshield. On me. On her.
Mostly on her.
And fuck, why wouldn’t they?
My petal’s sitting next to me in that blue dress I picked out, and it looks like it was sewn just for her. Cinches at the waist and flares over her hips, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs when she shifts.
Soft cotton, delicate as the flowers she loves, hugging every curve I worship.
And the boots. Christ . The brown leather clings to her calves, sturdy and practical and the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.
Exactly what I want her wearing when I bend her over later and bury myself inside her. Boots still on. Dress pushed up. My cock shoved deep into what’s mine as she screams for mercy that won’t come.
I drag in a breath, fighting the urge to growl loud enough to shake the damn truck.
Beside me, she sits quietly, a serene smilepinnedon her gorgeous face.
Hell, she’s not even fidgeting or anxious to get going, just sits quietly, giving me the space to get myself together.
God, I love her for that.
She doesn’t even know how much.
Her hand finds my arm, warm and soft. “It’s going to be fine,” she says, voice steady. Like she’s talking to a skittish animal she doesn’t want to spook.
And the worst part? It works.
She says it’s going to be fine, and I believe her.
I believe her because I love her. Because I’d do anything for her.
Heaven take me, I love Lily Hartley with every feral atom in my body.
So I’m going to walk into this fair. I’m going to hold her hand and stand behind her when she laughs and maybe even let her talk me into some fried bullshit neither of us needs.
I’m going to enjoy myself, even if it kills me.
No . No more talk of killing. No more talk of death.
Unless one of these bastards looks too hard at my petal. Or dares to speak to her. Or, fucking hell, tries to touch.
My vision tunnels, chest tightening and just like that, the spiral starts again.
She moves this time.
Climbs straight into my lap, straddling me in the driver’s seat. My arms go around her instantly, holding her tight against me as if my body knows what I need before my brain does.
She kisses me.
Slow at first, then deeper, wetter, until she’s stealing the air from my lungs, the ground from under my feet. Her pink tongue tangles with mine, her hands fist in my shirt, and I swear I’d let her rip my heart out of my chest if she asked sweetly enough.
When she finally pulls back, her lips are shiny and swollen, her breath shaky. She leans close, mouth brushing my ear.
“Come buy me a funnel cake, big guy,” she whispers, the words wrapping chains around me. “Watch me eat it knowing I’m so wet for you. That you get to put your Big Bear inside me tonight when we’re done. No one else, hmm?”
A growl rips from my chest before I can stop it.
Pure, primal, feral. “Let’s go.”
I shove the door open, climb out, and hold my hand out for her. She takes it, smiling like she just won something.
And maybe she did.
Because she’s the only one who’s ever tamed The Grizzly.
And tonight, she’s going to pay for it—in the best possible way.
Lily
The fair smells like spun sugar and fried dough, and I swear my heart hasn’t stopped fluttering since we got here.
Strings of lights crisscross overhead, glowing soft against the purple twilight.
Stalls line the paths in bright red, yellow, and green, each one hawking something different: caramel apples, candied nuts, corn dogs sizzling on skewers.
Kids dart between their parents, clutching balloons, squealing at the carnival rides.
It feels alive, this place. Alive in a way I haven’t felt in so long I almost forget what it’s like.
And beside me, Bear is a living storm.
He hasn’t let go of my hand once, his massive palm engulfing mine.
He hasn’t stopped scowling either, every muscle in his body drawn tight, eyes scanning every stranger like he’s daring them to take one wrong step.
But he’s here. For me.
“See? It’s not so bad. People, music, food on sticks. It’s… normal.”
His scowl deepens. “Too many eyes. Too many mouths.”
The knot in my chest swells when I glance up at him. “They’re just curious. It’s fine…” Not entirely sure if I’m trying to convince him. Or me.
But I’m sure he doesn’t see the way some people look at him with curiosity instead of fear. Doesn’t notice the nods of greeting from men in flannels or the shy smiles from women who clearly remember his glory days.
All he feels is the stares. All he hears are the whispers.
So I squeeze his hand. And each time, his fingers flex and his jaw ticks, like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered.
We find a picnic table tucked near the edge of the food stalls, away from the loudest crowd. I sit right on his thigh, back pressed to his chest, and he wraps his arms around me like a shield.
We share a funnel cake, powdered sugar dusting my lips.
He watches me lick it off, his eyes burning and his leg bouncing like he’s one second from hauling me behind theFerris wheel.
I laugh and feed him another bite untilit’sall gone.
Ahot dogvendor rolls past. “You want more food, petal?”
When I nod, he snags one for me but he doesn’t eat this time. Instead, his feast is me, every second his mouth ghosts my hair, his jaw grazes my temple.
It should feel suffocating. But it doesn’t.
It feels like belonging.
“Knox?”
The voice cuts through the night.
I glance up to see one of the logging men I recognize from that day in the clearing. The one who’d smiled kindly, who hadn’t leered. The one who reminded him of the fair.
There’s a woman with him, his wife I’m presuming. She’s slight and pretty, with a curious expression as her gaze slides to me.
Bear stiffens, every inch of him coiling tighter, but he doesn’t shove them away. Not yet.
“Evening,” the man says easily, nodding once. “I thought that was you but I had to be sure. Glad you made it.”
Knox grunts something unintelligible as the woman’s eyes linger on me.
“I’m Stacy and you know my husband, Daniel. And you must be…” She tilts her head, waiting.
I stroke Bear’s jaw, feeling the twitch of his beard under my fingers, and give her a small smile. “Lily.” I don’t add anything else. Not where I’m from, not how we met. Noncommittal, safe.
Her eyes brighten anyway, soft with friendliness. “Well, Lily, I do hope we’ll see more of you. Ashbourne’s a lovely place. Everyone’s welcome.” Her gaze lingers on Knox for a few beats.
“Um, thanks,” I murmur, just as two young boys screech past.
Daniel grabs one and swings him around before setting him free.
Stacy smiles indulgently. “It’s also a wonderful place to raise a family,” she adds.
The word hits me like a pebble tossed into still water, sending ripples across my chest.
Before I can respond, her gaze catches on the edge of my shoulder where the neckline of my dress has slipped, revealing the faint shadow of a bruise. Her expression falters.
She murmurs something about needing to check the bake stall, tugs her husband’s arm, and hurries away.
Bear’s entire body goes rigid behind me.
“See?” His voice is gravel, low and bitter. “They think I’m a fucking monster.”
I turn my head, press my lips to his jaw. “If they did, she wouldn’t have been talking about us raising a family.”
His chest heaves once. Twice. Then it stops altogether.
The silence is heavy, choking. Until he whispers, hoarse and rough, “Does my petal want me to breed her?”
My breath catches.
The fair keeps spinning around us with music, laughter, the rise and fall of voices, but my world stops at the raw note in his voice.
I don’t give a straight answer. I can’t. But my hand slides over his forearm, fingers threading with his, squeezing once.
Noncommittal. Again.
And I see it…the quiet shattering in his eyes.
We sit like that for a while, me curled against him, him watching the crowd like they’re wolves circling. I try to distract him with small touches…stroking the back of his hand, brushing my lips against his neck, whispering nonsense about fried pickles and balloon animals.
He humors me, but I feel the storm brewing faster…harder inside him.
And it starts a tempest in my own heart.
By the time the fireworks start, I’ve had enough.
The sky explodes red and gold, smoke curling over the field, but it only makes the knot inside me pull tighter.
I thought I needed this. That he needed this.
I grab his hand. Urgent, almost frantic.
“You okay, petal? You’re shaking,” he growls in my ear.
“Let’s go home. Please, Bear. I was wrong. We don’t need this. We don’t need anyone but us.”
He turns his head, eyes fierce if a little bemused, and his voice comes out low and dark with heat. “That right, little flower? You finally get it?”
“Yes.” My heart hammers. “I want our mountain. Our cabin. Just you. Only you.”
His thumb drags across my knuckles, slow and deliberate. “Careful what you’re saying, petal.”
Another volley of fireworks pops overhead. My chest hurts. “You don’t like it here and I…I don’t like it if you don’t,” I blurt.
Something shifts in his eyes…something feral, then something soft.
His arm snakes around my waist, his body all heat and tension, locking me against him as we weave back through the crowd.
When I look at him his jaw works like he’s biting down on words he doesn’t trust himself to speak.
The truck waits at the edge of the field.
He hits a button and headlights cut across the gravel. In under a minute, I’m belted inside, breathing familiar leather and him.
He climbs in after, the cab feels small, sealed, private, and I’m a little shocked to realize I’m breathing easier for the first time in hours.
The engine rumbles to life and we pull away with a crunch of tires over dirt.
In the side mirror, the fair is still alive with spinning rides, bursting fireworks, and a thousand strangers.
I glance back one last time, but all I can think is how much I don’t need it. Because I’ve already found the only place I want to be.
He’s sitting right next to me, jaw tight, eyes forward, gripping the wheel like the world might still try to steal me.
And for the first time all night, I lean back into his arm and let myself believe it.
Our mountain, our cabin, our world.
Could that really be all I’ll ever need?
The cab is quiet except for the hum of the engine and the soft crack of gravel under the tires. Knox hasn’t spoken since we left the fairground.
His jaw’s tight and the vein in his temple pulsing.
And me?
The nearer we get to the cabin, the worse I feel for pushing him. For making him think not being with people was a bad thing.
A thing about winning and losing. About being…lesser.
I was wrong to make him take me there, to drag him off his mountain like he owed me something. Because the truth is, we don’t need it. We don’t need any of them. We don’t need anyone but each other.
I glance sideways just as his eyes flick to me, then to the road again.
“So did you enjoy it?” he finally rumbles, voice low, cautious.
My throat tightens. “At first,” I admit, then the words tumble out before I can stop them. “Then…not really. Some of those women…I didn’t want them looking at you. I hated it.”
The corner of his mouth curves, slow and wicked. His eyes go darker than night, a glint of satisfaction flickering there.
“You dragged me down here to prove something,” he says with a smirk tugging at his lips. “Ended up proving you’re mine. That you want me to be yours. Isn’t that right, petal?”
Heat floods my face, then drops to my chest, lower into my belly. Breathless, I shove at his arm. “Shut up and take me home faster.”
But when I steal another glance, I see it.
The shadows still lingering in his eyes. I know why. Those same shadows prowl around inside me because I didn’t fully answer his question earlier. The one about family, about breeding.
About permanence and whether I’ll stay.
But I couldn’t answer fully then, and I still can’t.
Not yet.
Not when Brandon still looms over my shoulder like a ghost I haven’t laid to rest. I can’t think of forever with my Bear until I put my past to bed.
And even before that thought completes, I know I’m not going to do it yet.
I don’t need to deal with it tonight.
Tonight isn’t… shouldn’t be about me.
I have some amends to make. And I know how. And if the thought of it sends a spectacularly filthy thrill through me?
I shrug philosophically.
Lean back in my seat, exhaling slow.
The farther we get from town, the lighter I feel.
The fields thin into forest, the road winding into shadows, and my lungs finally loosen.
I let my gaze wander the dark trees, then I glance back at him, at the raw hunger simmering under his control.
And the idea gathers sparks into a living flame.
“Bear?” I murmur, my tone careful, coaxing.
His eyes flick to me, heavy with suspicion. “What, petal?”
I swallow a smile. “Pull over. Please?”
“Right here?” He growls low, suspicion sharpening his gaze.
But I widen my eyes, bite my lip, and let a hint of mischief slip through. “Please?”
And he does it.
The truck slows… rolls to a stop at the edge of the woods.
My hand is already on the handle.
And I don’t hesitate.