Chapter 12
Taylor
Knox sent me a text this morning to tell me they would be here at nine-thirty for the concrete redo.
After the intensity of our last interaction, I need something lighter, and I have a sneaking suspicion he does too.
Every interaction between us has been riddled with so much raw emotion, I don’t want him to dread being in my presence.
But it’s hard to back off when denial and desire are locked in combat. Knowing I need to tread carefully doesn’t change the fact that I’m hellbent on making sure desire stands as the victor.
With a plan in place, I take myself shopping and out for a quick lunch, checking in on Callum, calling Livvy, and shooting another text to Damon even though I know it will go unanswered.
At least I can say I tried.
By the time I pull back onto my parents’ street a few hours later, I’m ready to set my plan in motion.
I’m going to bake.
Cookies always make me feel better. And if I can’t improve Knox’s disposition with orgasms, I’ll do it with cookies instead.
I whip my small car around Knox’s pickup and pull into the garage, shutting the door behind me before heading upstairs with my new purchase, smiling at the outfit. Who said French maids could only be women?
Fucking no one. That’s who.
The little white lacey apron is attached to a black leotard underneath the short skirt, so my entire ass isn’t hanging out the back, just enough to make a statement. I even put on the choker that it came with because it’s cute and exactly the look I’m going for.
Knox’s words swirl devilishly in my mind. And then what? You’ll bring me to my knees as I put you on yours?
Precisely, big boy.
I’m here to serve, and I can guarantee once I drop to my knees for him, Knox won’t be far behind.
I swipe on my mascara, knowing it’s risky, but choosing to follow through anyway. This could be way too much and might turn him off completely…or the hint of femininity could be what makes him comfortable enough to finally give in.
Feeling flirty and fun, I bounce down the stairs, connect my phone’s Bluetooth to the speaker in the kitchen, and start preparing my cookie dough.
When I have the first batch in the oven, I pause to sing the lines of the I Prevail song at the top of my lungs, moving my body to the rhythm.
I’m sure I’m a sight to behold in my frilly new outfit, baking cookies, and headbanging to metal, but for the first time in a long time, I’m smiling at myself.
There is finally sun on my horizon.
In some weird way, it would seem Knox has been good for me already. The thought makes me want to double my efforts to help him relieve his own burdens, whatever they may be beyond his obvious sexual repression.
When the first batch of cookies is done, I pull them out and set them on the cooling rack before placing batch number two in the oven. I’m playing an extremely complicated part on my air guitar when the door behind me opens. My heart skips a beat until I turn to see Javier come into the kitchen.
“Oh, hey Javi,” I greet, turning down the music.
He lets out a low whistle. “Hola, Papi. I like your outfit,” he says with a smile.
“Muchas gracias,” I reply with a twirl, using all the Spanish I know.
He comes over to the baking rake and inhales deeply. “I knew I smelled something good in here.” Chuckling, he adds, “I’d bust a nut if I came home to find my wife baking cookies in this outfit.”
I like Javi. He doesn’t feel the need to be extra nice just because we’re obviously very different from each other, nor does he do that thing where he’s almost overly accepting just to make sure I know he isn’t judging.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that gesture from people, but Javi is just interacting normally, and I appreciate that way more.
I give him a wink. “Buy her the outfit, and maybe she will.”
He lets out a loud laugh this time. “You don’t know my wife. She’d throw it at me and tell me if I wanted cookies so badly, I should make them my damn self…and trust me, I wouldn’t look nearly as good in that as you do.”
My brows raise in surprise. “She, uh, sounds lovely,” I lie.
“I love her, but between you and me, if I had to do it all over again, I probably wouldn’t get married. Especially after watching Knox go through his divorce.”
His statement piques my interest. Knox mentioned that his wife left him, but he didn’t dive into story mode. It seems like a sensitive subject, and I’m hoping maybe I can get some answers from Javi.
“What happened?” I ask as casually as I can manage, feigning nonchalance by transferring the cookies from the rack to a plate.
“She was just gone one day when he got home from a job. Nothing but a note and her wedding band on the table. He was a mess. Karen left behind a broken man with a broken heart, and he hasn’t been the same since.”
“That’s awful,” I answer honestly.
“Yeah. He used to laugh and cut up with us, play pranks on us, and go out to lunch with us. Now he just scowls at us, does the job, and goes home to his empty house.” My heart breaks for the man fighting so many battles on his own. “May I?” Javier asks, pointing to the cookies now on the plate.
“Help yourself.”
He shoves a cookie into his mouth, moaning obscenely.
I don’t half-ass anything, and I bake as well as I fuck…which is really damn well.
Javier is in the middle of selecting another cookie when the back door opens again. This time, it’s Knox.
His eyes land on Javier first and a look of frustration paints his features.
“Javi, the fuck are you doing? I need you to help me set this stone before the concrete dries, man. Get your ass out here.”
“Coming, boss. I’m just sampling the cookies Taylor made. Let me use the restroom and I’ll be right out,” he says around a mouthful of cookie as he backs away down the hall.
Knox swings his gaze to me, and I watch him fight the urge to lift the corners of his mouth as he takes in my outfit. “You wear that well,” he finally says.
“Careful, Knox. That sounds dangerously close to a compliment,” I tease, my heart pinching in sadness for the lonely man in front of me. I point toward the cookies. “Hungry?”
I’d have to be blind to miss the way his eyes flare at the word. His pupils dilate, taking over his colored irises, and when he takes a step forward, it looks like he’s finally going to give in.
But then a toilet flushes down the hall and snatches the moment away from us.
“I’m good, thanks.”
Knox turns and walks out the door.
In one interaction where we were never closer than five feet, this infuriating man managed to drive his hooks in even deeper, making me have to adjust my swelling dick as I imagine how his short beard would abrade my sensitive skin.
Coming back into the kitchen, Javi grabs another cookie and holds it up. “Thanks!” he says before rushing out the door.
When it’s lunchtime, I watch through the windows as Phillip and Javier talk to Knox. It looks like they’re urging him to come with them, but Knox shakes his head and waves them away while he continues to work out back.
Javier’s words replace Knox’s as they bounce around in my brain. He used to go out to lunch with us. Now he just scowls at us, does the job, and goes home to his empty house.
Still in my maid’s outfit, I carry two plates of chicken salad and fruit out back.
I watch my step so as not to stand on any of the settling stones or anything with mushy concrete.
It’s a bit of a dance, but I manage the route gracefully.
The table and chairs are out by the pool, so that’s where I head now.
Knox looks up at the sound of my approach.
“Come eat,” I command, leaving no room for argument. “It’s too hot to work for ten hours with nothing but water in your stomach.”
I go back inside for the lemonade I’d poured and smile when I return to find that he listened to me.
Knox is sitting at the table, waiting for me to take my seat before diving in.
It’s hot as fuck out here, so I put the umbrella up to give us some shade.
My skin can’t take the harsh UV rays. I’d thought about asking him to come inside and eat, but was afraid he might feel cornered and decided it was better if I went to him.
“Aren’t you hot as fuck in that thing?” he asks, not looking at me.
I chuckle. “It’s cooler than the jeans and T-shirt you’re wearing,” I point out. Sweat has darkened his shirt at the collar, the armpits, and just below his pecs. “You’re welcome to cool off in the pool if the heat becomes unbearable, though, just so you know.”
I’ll be damned…the man smiles. Well, half smiles, but there’s movement in his lips. It’s sexy as all fuck, and feels like a win.
“Sounds like you’re trying to get me to take my shirt off again.”
I shrug. “Wasn’t really trying to be discreet about it.” When he doesn’t respond, I look up to find him watching me thoughtfully, so many questions swirling in his eyes. “What do you want to know?” I prompt.
I expect his questions to be along the lines of How old were you when you knew you liked guys? Do you only like guys? How often do you get harassed? Why do you wear shit like that? Etc.
While I’m trying to decide if I should keep it light or dive a little deeper, my phone dings on the table.
“Excuse me a second,” I say, reaching for my phone. I snort when I open the message from my mother.
Mom
Hi, Bird. Could you ask the builder if it’s too late to add stone to the stairs like we’d talked about? I changed my mind. Love and hugs.
I hand Knox my phone and let him read the message.
“Your nickname is Bird?” he asks next, one brow raising.
“It is,” I confirm. “My whole family calls me Bird, except my brother, Damon, who doesn’t call me anything because we haven’t spoken in months.” I’m not sure why I tell Knox that. It just slipped out.
My phone dings again, and I pull it back to read the message.
Mom
Also, cute outfit, but please don’t make him uncomfortable, sweetheart.