Chapter Fourteen
LILY
“Coffee?”
Knox made a sound in the back of his throat I took for agreement. I went to make a fresh pot. While I was measuring beans I asked, trying for casual, “How well did you know Trey?”
Another sound from Knox, this one vaguely surprised. “I didn't know Trey at all. He worked with my father.”
“Oh.” The way Knox had said, ‘He worked with my father,’ made it sound like that meant something. Trying to figure it out, I asked, “So, he only worked with your father?”
“Apparently. I looked at the files after you called, and it seems like they did a lot of business together.”
That left me stumped. What kind of business? We only had the one alarm system. Trey didn't own any other property. His company dealt with logistics, not security. The more I learned the less anything made sense.
I slid the beans into the grinder and pressed the button, the noise drowning out the possibility of conversation, buying me a minute to think. I couldn't pump Knox for information if I didn't know the right questions to ask.
I racked my brain trying to see every angle. I needed help with more than security.
There was no guarantee Knox was my answer, but the temptation to open my mouth and spill everything was killing me. What would happen if I threw myself on his mercy and begged for his help?
The cliché that information is power had never been more true.
If I spilled everything, Knox would own me.
I trusted him.
I wanted to trust him.
Did I trust him that much? Could I?
A mistake wouldn't just make me a fool. A mistake would risk Adam. I couldn't take the chance, no matter how much I wanted to.
Swallowing the urge to confess everything, I dumped the coffee grounds into the filter and started the brewing process. We stood there in the kitchen, both of us leaning against the counter, Knox's arms crossed over his chest, my hands tucked into my pockets.
The scent of chocolate chip cookies filled the air, joined a minute later by the rich notes of fresh coffee. I didn't want to get too excited considering I'd made the cookies myself, but they smelled like chocolate chip cookies.
They smelled like amazing chocolate chip cookies.
Knox's explanation of why I kept screwing up at baking made sense. I went with my gut when it came to spices and seasonings. Since the beginning, I had a good feel for how much salt or pepper, how much acid or fat to use. I was definitely getting a kitchen scale the next time we went to town.
I still couldn't think of a good way to ask Knox about Trey. Trying again, I said, “You read Trey's file after I called?” Knox nodded. “How long did they work together, your dad and Trey?”
Knox's dark gaze leveled on me, serious in a face that could have been carved from granite. I felt like an ant under a microscope. What I'd asked had been wrong, though I didn't know how.
Finally, Knox's eyes shifted to the timer on the stove and he said, “That's confidential, Lily.”
“He was my husband,” I protested.
Knox shrugged a shoulder. “Doesn't matter.”
“But I inherited his business. Doesn't that count for something?”
Another one of those long, dissecting looks. I kept my hands in my pockets but squirmed internally. Knox eventually said, “It makes you liable. Do you understand what that means?”
I gave up. The coffee was finished, and I poured two mugs. I handed Knox his and added cream to my own before I took a sip.
Did inheriting the company make me liable?
Liable for what?
The thought of being responsible for Trey's decisions was chilling. He died leaving behind more questions than answers, and I didn't even know how to ask the right ones.
In my entire life, I'd never felt more alone. The harder I treaded water, the deeper I sank. And Knox, who I thought was an ally, had looked at me with suspicion that bordered on disgust.
The buzzer on the oven went off. Cookies. The coffee was sour in my mouth. Even the smell of cookies didn't lighten my mood.
They would. My problems weren't going anywhere, but, based on the delectable scent coming from the oven, I might have baked real chocolate chip cookies. I'd take my victories where I could find them.
Chocolate-chip cookies could soothe a lot of worry.
Knox strode to the oven and opened it, peering inside. “They're done. You have a cooling rack?”
I did. I pulled it from the cabinet and set it up on the island in the kitchen. Knox took the cookies from the oven and used the spatula to carefully transfer them one by one to the rack. They looked perfect. They smelled divine.
I reached out a hand and yelped when Knox swatted it with the spatula. “They need to cool first,” he said with amusement.
I snuck a look up at him and relief spilled through my chest at the quirk of a grin on his lips. Whatever damage I'd done with my fumbling questions about Trey and his father, Knox seemed to have forgiven me.
I loved that half-smile and the warmth in his eyes. I wanted more, however unwise it was.
“How long do they have to cool?” I asked, a little petulant. I wanted one of those cookies.
More amusement as Knox answered, “Not that long. Put the second tray in the oven and reset the timer. You can have a cookie when the second batch is done.”
I followed orders, mouth watering. That was a long time to wait for a cookie. They looked so perfect, and they smelled so good. And I had baked them. Me.
Granted, I'd been following Knox's directions. Following Annabelle's directions to be accurate, but I didn't want to think about the mysterious Annabelle. The affection in Knox's voice when he said her name got under my skin. She'd given him her secret cookie recipe.
Knox's private life isn't your business, I reminded myself. The mysterious Annabelle wasn't the point. The point was that I had made the cookies, and they looked spectacular. I checked the timer on the oven. Ten minutes left. It might as well have been an eternity.
Knox was staring out the kitchen window at the lake, his back to the rack of cooling cookies. Unable to resist, I reached out a hand and broke off a piece of the cookie closest to me, popping it into my mouth.
Flavor exploded on my tongue, the cookie tasting almost like toffee, rich and buttery and sweet. Then the chocolate melting in my mouth, the crisp crunch on the outside, soft and gooey in the middle.
That chocolate chip cookie was the best thing I'd ever tasted. And I had made it. Triumph flooded through me, along with relief that I'd finally cracked the baking code, the rush of emotion strong enough to bring tears to my eyes.
I shoved another bite of cookie into my mouth and moaned at how good it tasted. I could eat these cookies all day. Knox's eyes came to me, his grin stretched all the way across his mouth. He shook his head.
“What are you, Adam? You couldn't wait another eight minutes?”
I swung my head from side to side in a No, my eyes rolled up, every taste bud alight with perfection.
So good.
It was so good, and I did this.
I swallowed, bouncing on the balls of my feet, not unlike my son.
I felt like a five-year-old. I wasn't a failure in the kitchen.
If I could bake cookies this good, I could do anything.
I swallowed the bite of cookie in my mouth and immediately wanted more of the crispy, chewy, toffee, chocolatey goodness.
I reached for another cookie. Knox's hand shot out and closed around my wrist, pulling me away. I stumbled toward him, and on impulse threw my arms around his wide chest, reaching up to press my lips to his jaw in thanks.
I wasn't thinking, sugar and joy spinning in my head.
It was a thank you hug. A kiss on his jaw. That's all.
I swear, that's all.
Knox's arms closed around me like steel bars. A deep groan rumbled in his chest. He tipped his head to the side, his jaw slipping from my lips, his mouth closing over mine.
He kissed me.
Not a chaste, polite thank you kiss. This was something entirely different. His arms locked me to his body, one around my hips, the other across my shoulders, plastering me to all of that hard muscle.
His hold should have made me nervous. It didn't. His lips closed over mine, hungry and aggressive. Adrenaline spiked through me, and just when I might have felt a hint of nerves, his mouth softened, gentled, coaxing rather than claiming.
I melted, my lips parting of their own volition. His tongue dipped inside.
Another rumbling groan sent a thrill spiking through me. I tilted my chin, opening to him, my tongue meeting his, tasting coffee and something uniquely Knox.
My arms still wrapped around his chest, I sank my fingers into his T-shirt, gripping tight, holding myself to him as the gentleness fell from the kiss. His mouth worked over mine, his tongue stroking, lips mastering my own.
I'd dreamed of this. My dreams hadn't come close to reality.
Knox's arms tightened even more. He turned us, lifted me, and I was on the counter, Knox's lean hips between my thighs, my legs locking around his waist, the hard bar of his erection grinding into me.
Even through layers of fabric the pressure of him against my clit set sparks firing through every nerve.
My head tipped back as my moan bled into our kiss.
Knox's hand dropped to close around my hip, his fingers grazing my ass, tilting me into him, rocking his hips, teasing me, dragging out another moan, longer and more desperate.
I pressed my mouth up into his, kissing him harder, wishing I could blink these clothes away, could feel his skin against mine, could feel that mouth everywhere.
“What are you guys doing?”
Adam's voice cut through the haze of lust in my brain. Stiff with shock, my mind raced for a response. Knox stepped back, effortlessly disengaging from our kiss, pulling me off the counter and setting me on my feet. Air rushed into the space between us, leaving me cold.
“The cookies are done. Do you want one?” Knox asked, holding out a warm cookie.
As a diversion, nothing could top cookies.
The kitchen island hid any evidence of Knox's erection.
Even if Adam noticed the flush in my cheeks, the glitter in my eyes, he wouldn't care when there was a cookie in front of him.
I crossed my arms over my chest to hide my peaked nipples and picked up my mug of coffee, taking a sip to hide my face. I could have saved my time. Adam wasn't even looking at me.
He snatched the cookie from Knox's hand and crammed it into his mouth the same way he had the cookie-dough spoon. His eyes rolled up in his head, bliss spreading across his face.
He chewed and swallowed before he said, cookie still filling his mouth, “Mom, I can't believe you made these. They're actually good. Really, really good.”
“I know,” I agreed, my voice strained. I snuck a glance at Knox. He was as cool and self-contained as ever. He didn't look at me. Didn't acknowledge me. It was as if nothing had happened.
For a second, I wondered if I'd imagined it. The tenderness of beard-burn on my cheek and my swollen lips reminded me that I hadn't imagined anything. Knox had kissed me like I'd never been kissed in my life.
I wanted more. I'd be crazy not to want more.
The timer beeped on the oven. Knox took out the second tray of cookies and added them to the cooling rack, his eyes blank as they passed through me. Clearly, he didn't feel the same.
That was for the best, wasn't it?
Kissing Knox was a bad idea.
I was his client. He was working for me. There was some connection between Trey and his father. My husband had been dead for less than a year.
So many reasons I shouldn't be kissing Knox.
I didn't care.
I wanted to kiss him again, but if his total lack of interest was any indication, I was out of luck.