Chapter 21 #3
Giant white flakes float and flutter. They’ve already remade the parking lot into a peaceful winterscape. I squeal, clapping, then brace on the wall and slip my feet into a pair of Knox’s tennis shoes parked near the door.
“Everly Anne.” His call echoes in my wake.
A gust of wind whips giant flakes into a festive dance. Even the sidewalk beneath the awning is unspoiled white. I steady myself on one of the posts, cheeks pleasantly smarting with a grin. Wow. Easily two inches have fallen while we gabbed the night away.
“Hey, you stole my shoes.” Knox rumbles from the doorway.
“Snooze, you lose, mister,” I whisper-yell. Mustn’t disturb the neighbors. I want this wonderland to myself.
And Knox.
Knox and me.
The open parking lot, pristinely frosted, beckons. A first, successful step bolsters my confidence, but my skidding feet nearly take me down on the second. Yelping, I catch myself on the mirror of a black pickup. Right. Ice. Got it.
I spread my arms and walk my hands along the truck and the sedan parked next to it, step-hopping and making giant footprints with Knox’s boat-sized shoes.
My fingers are popsicles by the time I stop, clutching the truck’s tailgate.
Snow turns liquid and seeps through my flannel sleeve. Flakes pepper my cheeks.
I tilt my face to the inbound blast. This night couldn’t be better.
Behind me, footsteps shuffle the snow. Knox’s arms wind around my waist and pull me against his chest.
I lay my palm atop his clasped hands and close my eyes. Cold snow, Knox’s heartbeat. Sighing, I tip my head to his shoulder, caving into his warmth. His chin brushes my hair.
I let go of the tailgate. His strength cocoons me and holds me upright. The wispy, fluttering flakes become icing on the cake of an idyllic moment.
He brushes snowy hair away from my face and presses his cheek to mine. “You were supposed to wait for me.”
Not the cold, but his gentle grumble at my ear makes me shiver. My heart thuds. “I’m waiting,” I whisper. Waiting for his kiss. Waiting for…him.
Sometimes it feels like an eternity I’ve been on hold for the right man. Am I crazy—or might I have found him at last?
I wriggle around so we’re face to face, flattening my palms on his t-shirt, already spotted where the Knox-sized flakes have succumbed to his warmth. The snow doesn’t stand a chance.
There’s heat in his eyes, too.
My throat jams. I want his kiss desperately, but…Does he really want you, Everly, or is he just a guy seizing a moment? You thought Ethan’s interest was sincere.
Fingers digging into his bulky bicep for support, I hop in an about face. “Let’s build a snowman.”
Dare I hope that’s disappointment in his quick sigh? “It’s one in the morning, lady.”
I reach back and snatch his hand. “Can you think of a better time?”
He laughs. “Only about a dozen of them. Might I remind you you have an injury?”
He makes a good point. “Alright then. Snow angels. Come on!”
“It’s a nasty parking lot, Ev. Besides, a man only has so many clothes he can loan out.”
If I look now, Knox is probably wearing a spine-tingling grin that will raise my temperature enough I’ll need a snow angel session to cool myself off.
I sway hard into him, arm to arm. “Stop using logic, Herdman. I’m trying to have some fun here.”
“Herdman?” He tugs me to his chest. Amusement, plus a shot of something more, ripple through his eyes. “You’re funny.”
“Funny…or fun?”
He taps the tip of my nose. “Both.”
“Really?” My teeth work themselves into my bottom lip.
He tilts his head, studying. “You sound surprised.”
Bundled up in biceps, I find the only place to store my hands is on his chest. As I gaze up, the grandaddy of all snowflakes lands in the dark hair above his forehead. It’s startling how handsome the man is at one in the morning. Makeup has to be streaking my face by now.
I press my cheek to the spot where I can count his heartbeats. One. Two. Three. Four… “You know why my last real boyfriend broke up with me?” I refuse to count Ethan as a boyfriend.
Knox lays his cheek on my hair. “Why is that?”
I take a deep breath. “Because I was boring. No fun, he said.”
His fingers trace circles on my back. “The man’s out of his mind.”
I sigh into the cotton t-shirt that smells like cologne and a little of musty motel room. “I don’t know. I do like to read quite a bit. I like quiet.”
“And what did the loser like?”
A spurt of laughter bursts, but my nose wrinkles at the first image that pops into my head. “To rub paint all over his torso and act like a fool at a game. I was supposed to tag along and not be embarrassed.”
“I hope you told the dude no.”
I snort. “I only made the mistake of saying yes once.”
His hand moves into my hair. “Good girl. I confess I cannot see you in that scenario. I mean, I’ve got a sad picture in my head, but…”
I thump his chest. “Stop it.”
Chin perched again on my hair, he laughs.
Gripping his shirt, I press my fists together and cuddle in, sighing deeply. “I probably could afford to loosen up a bit. I did try.”
Knox kneads the kinks navigating traffic, being professional, and being social, put into my neck tonight. “You don’t need to try, Everly. Not with me.”
Could the man be any sweeter?
My sigh feels dreamy. “I genuinely do love snow.”
“Trust me, I can see that.” His fingers squeeze, and there’s a tender smile in his voice. “Please know you don’t have to hop around on a twisted ankle or get your clothes sopping wet in the middle of the night in order for me to have fun being with you.”
I’m already nestled in and at peace, but my heart slows to a near stop.
Somehow, some way…Knox knew. He knew that cherishing the gentle whoosh of fat snowflakes, of relishing with my eyes the beautiful blanket of untouched white, was enough for me.
That I was mentally calculating the cost of wet clothes and tangled hair and awkward changing sessions that building a snowman or sketching a snow angel would bring.
See? No fun. No flirt. Just boring, serious old me. And yet, I’ve never felt this…seen. My throat thickens. My eyes tickle with tears. “You really do like to read,” I whisper. My eyes found the stack of books on his table and my heart saw a sign.
“Very much.” His deep baritone rumbles his chest.
“But you don’t like snow?” That’s one—and only one—for the cons list.
“Not a fan when I’m trying to meet a deadline, no.”
“Otherwise?”
“My family has a Christmas Day snowball fight whenever possible. It’s awesome.”
I love, love, love the way Knox can speak in smiles. I don’t have to see to know his expression or hear his joy.
As for myself, I can’t stop smiling into his chest where it’s warm and safe.
Safe to be me?
“Hey.” He pulses his pectoral, slamming it against my cheekbone.
I peer way up. “Yes?”
“You should know…” He touches the tip of his nose to mine. “We get lots of snow in Kansas City.”
Timing and tone limit the ways the remark can be taken. “I’d like to see your snow sometime.”
He strokes the hair down my back. “I think that can be arranged. I’m already having visions of showing it to you.”
A flake, intricately designed and amazing, just like he is, wisps onto the dampening wave curling over his forehead. He lays the backs of his fingers to my cheek. The air whitens his warm breath. “I simply must kiss you now, Everly Wilkes.”
No man has ever had to kiss me.
“Tell me I can kiss you.” He trails his thumb along my face, resting it near my mouth.
I curl his shirt into my fists. “I might never forgive you if you don’t.”
He grins, little boy sweet, grown man hungry. Knox lowers his mouth to mine. My knees threaten collapse, but he shores me up as if I’m featherlight.
I feel like I am. Drifting. Floating.
This man. This amazing man.
One of us deepens the exchange. Giving. Taking. I release his shirt and slip my arms around his neck. It’s hardly enough, so I press in, feeling him half-step backwards. He cradles my head. His fingers thread my hair.
I’m lost, deep in magical, snowy woods and not caring if I’m ever found.
“Hey!” From somewhere in the cosmos, a voice shouts. “They got rooms for that kind of stuff.”
One of us breaks the kiss. Probably Knox, he’s the strong one.
He’s also backed against the pickup. Did I do that?
He continues holding me as I follow his gaze to the source of the reprimand.
The man who was with the one he fired leans against a pole outside an open door, puffing away on a cigarette. He exhales a smoke ring and grins smirkily. “This is a family establishment, Herd. Take it inside, will ya?”
“I can fire you next, Crawford.” Knox groans and melds our foreheads. Our eyes meet. I giggle. He grins. “Sorry about him.”
“Not a problem.” The whole thing is too funny not to laugh. I mean, why not? Mortification can wait till morning.
Laughter rings out and a door closes. I peek, making sure we’re on our own again.
I’m all in for more kissing, but Knox keeps me wrapped up and walks me toward our—I mean, his—room.
He takes the keycard from his pocket and holds the door open.
I hop to the bed, sitting on the jumble of white sheets.
Knox lingers in the doorway, shoulder wedged against the frame. His hair is damp, his cheeks are pink.
“You’re letting the warm air out,” I say.
The glow of the lamp mounted outside the entrance casts his face in a yellow glow. “I think I’ll watch the snow a little longer.”
“It’s freezing cold out there.”
He clicks his tongue. “Exactly.”
If I haven’t been flushed since second one of our kiss, I know I am now.
“Go to sleep, Ev. I’ll be in in a bit.”