Chapter 16
Knox
When, where, and how I ran afoul of Oakley’s good opinion is anyone’s guess. I’ve showered, worn deodorant, and been a perfect gentleman. What more has a man got to do?
Smarting from the sting of a death glare, I busy my hands shaping a branch that hasn’t quite had all the off-season flattening fluffed out of it yet. Seconds after Oakley reappeared, Everly abandoned me to her sister’s not-so-good graces when her own phone rang with a call from her soon-to-be boss.
“Why haven’t you told her?”
I turn. Arms crisscrossed over her heaving-like-a-huffy-bull chest, Oakley comes toe to toe.
“Told her what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Knox Herd.
Sure, not everyone I’ve crossed paths with in my lifetime has been a fan, but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard my name sound like a curse before.
I put my hands at my waist. I don’t see any point in beating around the bush. “Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me what you suddenly have against me, and I’ll see how I can help, Oakley.”
She levels a daring squint. “I know who you really are.”
“Okay…”
“Don’t okay me. My sister thinks you’re just some ditch digger who also happens to be a nice guy.”
Ditch digger? I hope those weren’t Everly’s words. Truthfully, it doesn’t sound like her. “It’s a sin to be a nice guy?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
I spread my hands. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
Our stares battle, but I refuse to blink first. This is her fight. The chorus of Jingle Bells rocks on in the background.
“Fine.” She puffs a short breath. “I already told you I work at the bank.”
“Yes?”
“Your bank.”
Pieces are moving, just none into place quite yet. “Right. The bank LHS is using during our Chandor job.”
“I talked to Martha about you. She only handles commercial accounts. Large accounts.”
“So? It’s a huge project. Lots of cash flows in and out on something of this magnitude.”
Her face flames. “Yeah, your cash. You happen to be the signer on one of those massive accounts.” In my face again, she stomps her foot. “You own the flippin’ company, Knox!”
My jaw opens. Oh. Right. That little detail I accidentally keep not mentioning.
My mouth snaps closed. I rub my palm along my chin, mostly still smooth from my pre-church shave. “I only own a third of LHS.”
For that statement of fact, I earn a don’t-insult-my-intelligence scowl. “Big whoop, Knox. I did a little research. You guys build shopping centers, office buildings, hospitals. Install infrastructure for municipalities. Across the entire US.”
I hold up a finger. “No. We lay the water and sewer lines for those buildings, and mainly only in the Midwest and the South.”
She whooshes her arm up, energized by either irritation or full anger. “I love my sister, and I will not stand by and let you deceive her.”
“Deceive? That’s a bit harsh.”
“Are you joking? You’ve got her thinking you’re some poor slob digging ditches for a living.”
“My guys are not slobs. They’re intelligent, skilled, hardworking people.” With the occasional glaring exception.
“You are willfully missing my point. Everly has no idea that you’re not just one of the guys. There’s a giant difference between being an employee of LHS Construction and being an owner, and you know it.” She slaps her hands to her waist. “What I want to know is why you’re keeping it a secret?”
“It isn’t a secret.”
Again I’m the recipient of a poisonous scowl.
I rub my fingers along my jaw. “What I mean is, I never intended for it to be one. The subject hasn’t come up yet.” I did try last night, but Cliff interrupted.
She snorts. “And that’s what bothers me. Most men would be shouting something like that from the rooftops. Why aren’t you?”
I back into the breakfast bar dividing the living and kitchen areas. Yeah, why? Money and status generally wind up in the plus column when considering the pros and cons of entering a relationship.
Generally being the operative word. Who knows with Becca.
I’m still working to figure that one out.
We met through a friend at church. In the beginning, she knew all facets of my life and seemed to be cool with the guy I was.
The me who loves being hands-on—but then, come to find out, in truth, she resented the heck out of the things that made me who I was.
She kept me perpetually fielding volleys of reprimands like, you’ve got hat hair, Knox.
For heaven’s sake, clean your fingernails, Knox.
Which, for the record, that last one I did faithfully—just not quickly enough for her liking. I confess scrubbing my fingernails isn’t always my top priority at the end of sunup-to-sundown, exhausting days.
I’ve pondered whether the money held her for a while but that in the end she decided wasn’t enough to put up with what she perceived as negatives. I confess, seeing her make tracks to Rand now bolsters that theory.
“You make it sound like me owning the company is a bad thing.”
“No, Knox. You act like it’s a bad thing.”
I wholly reject her analysis. “I don’t understand why this is a big deal. Everly and I are in the beginning phases of getting to know each other.” Though, admittedly, it feels like more.
“Exactly, and what you do for a living is a fundamental thing.”
Not sold on her hot take, I lift my chin but remain rested against the counter. With my size, normal movements like standing straight can be misread as aggression. “What I do for a living is run a jobsite. Everly knows that.”
“Yeah, as of about an hour ago, but there’s more to the story. Trust me, you’re gonna regret masquerading as an average Joe.”
I swear, sometimes it feels like I can’t do anything right. Can’t a guy just be who he is? So I happen to own a company but enjoy working in the field. What’s the big deal?
“Not being honest is a red flag. How do you get through an entire date and not say something as basic as, ‘oh, hey, I also own the company I work for, Ev’? Come on, Knox. This isn’t some stupid romance where the cute guy is actually the secret prince of some foreign country.”
I sputter. “A prince?”
She puffs out an annoyed breath. “Please tell me you’re getting the point here. Which is…” She jabs her finger as if I’m a balloon she wants to pop. “If you’re not going to come clean with my sister, I’ll do the dirty work myself.”
A scuff mars the toe of my otherwise shiny loafer. Must have happened during the yard decorating. I raise my face again, taking Oakley’s threat head-on. Yeah, it’s a threat—and I can’t blame her. Much. Siblings should keep an eye out for one another.
“How about this? I’m going to ask Everly out again for next weekend. If she says yes, we’ll have the conversation then. Maybe even sooner, depending on how the week goes. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like foot dragging. Why not tell her now? I don’t see the issue.”
For reasons I don’t understand, my brain scrambles over what should be a simple matter. “Don’t you think it’s kind of weird to just strike up a conversation and say, ‘Hey, Everly, you know, I’m kind of a big deal.’”
She snorts. “I didn’t say you were a big deal.” Her foot taps. “But, if you want my opinion, it’s weird not to say it.”
I didn’t want any of the last five minutes.
Everly rounds the corner, rescuing me. She taps her phone to her chin, deep in thought. When she notices her sister and me together, her expression shifts. Her gaze flits back and forth between us, a half-smile on her lips. “What did I miss? It looks like I missed something?”
“Not a thing.” Rising, I smile. “Good phone call?”
“I guess.” When she pivots to lay the phone on the coffee table, I hike an eyebrow at Oakley. Deal?
She tosses her eyes into a partial roll, following with a quick nod. But behind Everly’s back, she wags her finger.
I take a deep breath. Message received.
Claire walks in, her shoulders hanging low, dabbing a tissue to her eyes. “I can’t believe we’re going to have Christmas without your father this year.”
Everly hugs her mom, tells her everything will be okay, and then we all deck the tree, although, damage successfully inflicted, Oakley abandons us before the job is complete.
Once Claire declares our handiwork pure Christmas perfection, we line up in the center of the room.
She oohs and aahs. Me, I’m thankful for the sweet fragrance of Everly’s perfume as our shoulders brush.
It counteracts the stench of her sister’s suspicion and ultimatum.
The whole thing is much ado about nothing.
Then tell her, Knox. Easy peasy.
Yeah, right, except Becca—
Man, that woman has no right to torment me, yet clearly, she injected her poison into my psyche and it’s still in my system.
Regardless, I’m not having the conversation that, yes, needs to be had, with Claire present. Not because any of it is a big deal, but first mention of the subject will be an Everly and me thing.
Twilight arrives early in December, and when the graying light beyond the windows coincides with Claire suggesting leftovers for dinner, I know it’s time to go. Everly has yawned on multiple occasions over the last half hour. I only hope she’s not been wishing me gone.
Outside, we’re finally alone. A stiff breeze whips into the protective alcove harboring the front door. Inflatable Santa waves his arm at the empty street.
“Yard looks good.” Everly wraps herself in her arms.
“I did a darned good job, didn’t I?”
She slugs my bicep. “That’s called team effort, Mr. Humility.”
Jamming my hands in my slacks pockets, I smile. “I had a great boss. All I did was provide the muscle.”
She giggles, and I want to inhale her laughter. Mouth to mouth. Lip to lip. But the next time I give kissing the lady a go, it won’t be within range of her meddling little sis’s eye. Besides, this thing between us is in its infancy. No need to rush.
“So, Knox—”
“I have a question, Everly.”
I flip my palm up. “Ladies first.”
She scuffs her hands along her sleeves as if to generate warmth. “That call I got, from my new boss? There’s a company Christmas party next Saturday night. He strongly suggested I attend and begin meeting people. So…I was wondering…” Her teeth sink into her luscious lower lip.
I tip my head to the side. “Are you asking me on a date, Everly Anne?”
Her eyes widen, presumably because I’ve picked up her middle name over the course of the afternoon. “What if I am?”
“Are you?”
“Knox!” She bats at my chest. I snag the offending hand and draw her in, which may be a tactical error since I decided against kissing her tonight.
With Everly, I constantly feel a smile on my face. I hold our clasped hands between us and gravel my voice. “Yes, I will be your date, Everly.”
She clasps her hands, and the sheer pleasure my acceptance gives her cheers me to the core. I can’t wait to have her on my arm for an entire evening.
She launches into details. Seven o’clock, a Dallas hotel, fancy. Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“Do you have a suit?” She waves her hand. “You know what? Don’t worry about Saturday—”
“I have a suit, Everly.”
“But isn’t it back in Kansas City? Please don’t go buy one on my account.” She chews her lip.
Most of my suits are, yes, but I always keep a couple on hand for the impromptu business meetings Rand tends to drop on me. I place my hands on her shoulders and turn her toward the door. “Let me worry about my wardrobe. You get inside and get warm.”