Chapter 7 Knox
Idrove home in the rain, stripped out of my wet clothes, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling while the storm raged outside.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt her.
The press of her mouth against mine. The way her fingers had fisted in my shirt.
The small sound she'd made when I pushed her against the wall.
I was a goddamn idiot.
I'd promised myself I wouldn't touch her and wouldn’t complicate things. I sure as hell wouldn't drag her back into my mess until I'd told her the truth about everything.
But then she'd kissed me, and every promise I'd made was forgotten.
The storm passed around three in the morning. I watched the clouds break apart as the stars came out and tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do.
I had to tell her about Cal and explain what had really happened eight years ago. She deserved to know, and I was tired of carrying this secret.
But telling her meant destroying her relationship with the only family she had left. It meant making her choose between believing me or believing the uncle who'd raised her after her mom got sick.
There was no good option here. There never had been.
I got in my truck and drove to Cal's.
***
She was on the back porch when I pulled up, sitting in one of Cal's chairs, coffee cup in hand, wearing a sundress that showed off her shoulders and made my mouth go dry. Her hair was down, still damp from a shower, curling at the ends.
She looked up when she heard my truck and our eyes met across the yard.
Neither of us looked away.
I grabbed my tools and headed toward the deck. Toward her. Every step felt like walking into fire.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning."
The silence stretched. Loaded with everything we weren't saying.
"About last night," I started.
"Don't." She held up a hand. "Not yet. I'm still..." She trailed off, staring into her coffee. "I need to think."
"Okay."
"Okay." She stood. "I'm going inside. I have the day off, so I'll be around. Try not to..." She gestured vaguely. "Be distracting."
A smile tugged at my mouth. "I'll do my best."
She paused at the door and looked back at me with something complicated in her eyes.
"You said you'd explain everything. I'm going to hold you to that."
"I know."
As she went back inside, I stood there for a long moment, toolbox in hand, wondering how the hell I was supposed to concentrate on building a deck when she was inside that cabin, thinking about me, remembering the same kiss I couldn't stop replaying.
***
The morning passed in a blur of measuring and cutting and trying not to look at the cabin.
I failed. Constantly.
Every time I glanced up, I caught movement through the windows. Daisy in the kitchen. Daisy curled up on the couch. Daisy standing at the window, watching me, before she noticed me looking and disappeared.
We were circling each other. Two people caught in the same orbit, pulled together by gravity neither of us could control.
Around noon, the back door opened.
"Lunch." Daisy stepped onto what was left of the deck, carrying a plate with a sandwich and chips. "You need to eat."
I wiped my hands on my jeans and picked up the sandwich. Turkey and cheese, simple and perfect. "Thanks."
She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me eat.
"Can I ask you something?" She continued knowing I would agree to anything she wanted. "Last night. You said you stayed away because you had to. Because you were protecting me." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "What did you mean?"
The question I'd been dreading. The one I'd promised to answer.
I looked the woman she'd become. Strong and guarded and so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
"Not here," I said. "Not like this. It's not a quick conversation, Daisy. And you're going to have a lot more questions."
"Then when?"
"Tonight. After Cal goes to sleep. Meet me at the overlook."
Her breath caught. The overlook. Our spot. The place where everything had started and ended.
"The overlook," she repeated.
"If you want the truth, that's where I'll give it to you. Eleven o'clock."
She studied me for a long moment. Then she nodded and stepped back inside.
I stared at the half-eaten sandwich, my appetite gone.
Tonight. I was going to tell her everything tonight. About Cal's ultimatum. About the choice I'd made. About eight years of loving her from a distance while she built a life that didn't include me.
Either she'd understand, or she'd hate me even more than she already did.
Either way, the waiting would finally be over.
***
I worked on the deck all afternoon, laying the new joists, trying to focus on the familiar rhythm of construction.
But my mind kept drifting to tonight. To the conversation I was about to have.
To the look on her face when I told her that her uncle had threatened to ruin my life if I didn't walk away from her.
Around four, Daisy came outside again.
This time she was carrying two glasses of lemonade. She'd changed into shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled up off her neck, her skin flushed from the warmth of the afternoon.
I tried not to stare and failed spectacularly.
"Hydration," she said, holding out a glass. "It's hot out here."
I took the glass. Our fingers brushed, and I saw her shiver despite the heat.
She didn't pull away.
"Can I watch?" she asked. "The building. I don't know anything about construction."
"You want to watch me work?"
"I want to be outside. And you happen to be outside." She shrugged, but there was a hint of challenge in her eyes. "Unless I'm too distracting."
She settled into one of the chairs at the edge of the construction zone, legs curled under her, lemonade in hand. I went back to work, hyperaware of her eyes on me.
The sun was beating down and sweat dripped down my back. I pulled off my shirt without thinking, tossing it aside, and heard her sharp intake of breath.
When I glanced over, her eyes were fixed on my chest. My stomach. The trail of hair that disappeared into my jeans.
"Eyes up here Daisy." I said as I stood taller.
Her gaze snapped to my face. Her cheeks flushed pink.
"You're different," she said. "Than you were."
"Eight years of manual labor will do that."
"It's not the muscles." She set down her lemonade, stood, walked toward me. "It's everything. The way you carry yourself. The way you talk. You used to be so..."
"Angry?"
"Reckless." She stopped a foot away from me. "You used to fight like you had nothing to lose."
"I didn't. Back then." I held her gaze. "Now I do."
"What changed?"
"You left." The truth came out before I could stop it. "You left, and I realized that all the fighting, all the anger, it wasn't getting me anywhere. It wasn't going to bring you back. So I stopped."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she reached out and touched my chest. Just her fingertips, light as a whisper, resting over my heart.
"Knox."
I caught her wrist to hold her there.
"Don't start something you can't finish," I said quietly. "Not until you know everything."
She stepped closer. Her hand flattened against my chest, her body inches from mine. I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her tank top.
"Last night," she said softly, "when you kissed me back. That wasn't nothing."
"No. It wasn't."
"So why are you fighting this so hard?"
"Because I don't deserve you." The words ripped out of me, raw and honest. "Because I walked away once, and I'm terrified that when you know why, you'll realize I was right to do it."
"You don't get to decide what I realize." Her fingers curled against my skin. "That's my choice. Not yours."
I was going to kiss her. I could feel it building, the pull between us too strong to resist. My free hand came up to cup her face, tilting her head back, and her lips parted in anticipation.
God, she was perfect. Full lips open and waiting for me.
The crunch of tires on gravel cut through the moment.
We sprang apart. Daisy stumbled back, cheeks flushed, breathing hard. I turned away, grabbing my shirt from the ground, pulling it over my head as Cal's truck came into view.
"Shit," Daisy breathed.
"Go inside," I said quietly. "I'll handle this."
She hesitated. Looked at me with something desperate in her eyes.
"Tonight," I said. "Eleven o'clock. I'll tell you everything."
She nodded and disappeared into the cabin, the door closing behind her.
I picked up my hammer and got back to work, keeping my face neutral as Cal climbed out of his truck and walked toward me.
"Looking good," Cal said, surveying the progress. "You work fast."
"Trying to get it done before the next storm."
"Speaking of storms." Cal's eyes sharpened. "Thanks for checking on Daisy last night. She okay?"
"She's fine. Power was out, but she handled it."
"Good." Cal was quiet for a moment. "She's been through a lot lately. That guy in Denver did a number on her."
My jaw tightened. "What kind of number?"
"The kind that makes a woman forget her worth." Cal met my eyes. "I don't know the details. She won't talk about it. But I know the signs."
I thought about the way Daisy held herself now. Guarded. Careful. The walls she'd built that hadn't been there eight years ago.
"She's stronger than she looks," I said.
"She is." Cal studied me with that cop stare, the one that saw everything. "Just make sure you remember that."
He went inside and I stood there, hammer in hand, wondering if that had been a warning or a blessing.
With Cal, it was hard to tell.
I finished up for the day, packed my tools, and drove home to wait for eleven o'clock.
Tonight, everything would change.
I had no idea if it would be for better or worse.