13. Indiana #2
“Come on now, Knox. Don’t ruin that nice apology with those grouchy noises,” I tease.
He huffs, and I chuckle. Well, I tried . I paddle myself back to the dock, he catches the board before it hits the edge, looping the rope through the hook at the end and expertly tying it off. That’s kinda hot. Shit, can I think that? He may be with someone.
“Are you single?” Holy mother of god. I did not just ask that out loud—except I did.
And now Knox is looking at me with an expression that equally says where the hell did that come from?
And that was forward. “I’m sorry—that came out a little weird.
I just hadn’t seen anyone else out here, and I was going to bring her flowers, or a plant,—your girlfriend—if you have one, to say sorry. ” The ramble is rambling.
“Huh. And what would you need to apologize to her for?” he asks. Surely, he knows, and he’s just giving me a hard time.
I clear the frog from my throat. “For uh-walking in on you the other day—or well, seeing you naked.” I must be a shade of red that can be seen from space.
He laughs. Not a snicker. Not a chuckle. A real laugh. My chest warms from the blush, but also with something else. Pride? At getting the man to laugh? Maybe. I don’t analyze it too long.
He locks our eyes, his crinkled at the corners, a deep shade of blue like a sapphire in the sun before speaking to me. “There’s no one to apologize to, Indie.”
“Oh. Good.” Oh. Good? Oh my god. Oh my god.
Lake, please swallow me. What if I rolled off this paddleboard and swam to shore?
Would that be more or less awkward? And what does it say about me that, since he said he didn’t have a girlfriend, all I can think about is his mouth?
Is that bad? If it is, I don’t wanna be good.
Who am I? He makes me so…horny? Yeah, but also scattered. Incoherent.
He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, standing on wobbly legs before stepping onto the dock.
“Thanks. And thank you for the key. I’ve wanted to try this since I saw it the other day.”
“You haven’t done this before?” he asks, a little surprised. I shake my head. His surprise turns to admiration. “Well seeing as you’re still dry, I guess you figured it out fairly quickly, although I still would have preferred you have the life vest on .”
I notice then that I left the vest on the dock beside the key. “Oops. I wouldn’t say I’m a professional or anything, but I held my own out there.” Knox just hums in response. “So where’s Hazel tonight?” I ask, hoping to shift the subject off me.
“She’s at Winnie and Rhett’s for the night and tomorrow for a sleepover,” he tells me. I’m not sure why, but him saying the word sleepover is really adorable.
“I bet she loves that. Winnie’s great.”
“She is. My brother lucked out when he got her to say yes to marrying him.”
That makes me smile. “I’ll put the paddle back where I found it and let you get to your child-free evening,” I say, awkwardly sliding by him.
He grabs the paddle, stopping me. “I can get it.” We’re face- to-face now—well, face-to-chest. Looking up at him, the top of his head is cut off from my view by my hat, but his mouth is on full display. Has he thought about me?
“I don’t mind. I got it out; I can put it back,” I insist. He lets his hand drop to his side, giving me a nod. “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome to anything in there,” he tells me. That sounds like a subtle gesture of goodwill.
“I’ll keep that in mind if I start making my own fishing baits,” I tease, and he flashes a smile at me. “Do you do that often?” I ask.
He shakes his shaggy hair. “Not so much anymore.”
“I’ve never been fishing. All my knowledge of it comes from TV. If I’m being honest, most of my outdoor knowledge is from a book or TV.”
“You’ve never been fishing? Not once?”
“I’m a city girl, Knox. Remember where we met?” I ask, wanting him to say I’m memorable to him. If he doesn’t, he’ll have to admit it to me now and put me out of my misery.
“I remember,” he confirms. I’m dizzy with relief, which is so stupid. He stood me up. “You didn’t say much the other day, so I wasn’t sure you remembered me all that well,” he tells me.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a fangirl or something. ‘Hi, remember me? From three years ago when we briefly met? Yeah, now I’m going to live in your guesthouse.’ It sounded just a little stalkery to me,” I tease.
“Wait. Are you saying you’re not my stalker?” he asks, sounding offended. I’m loving this little peek at a different side of him. I like playing with him.
“No, I am. I just didn’t want it to sound that way,” I deadpan.
One side of his mouth kicks up into the most devastating lopsided grin I've ever laid eyes on. Uh-oh. This could be bad. For me. I mentally gulp. On the outside, I give him a flirty grin. At least I hope that’s what it looks like.
He walks toward me and takes the trail that leads to the shed. I follow him, paddle in hand.
“So how did you end up in Silverthorne, Indie?” His question is not one I can easily or quickly answer, and his use of my nickname has butterflies swarming in my stomach. I need to get a handle on my emotions.
“Is seeing me again so bad?” I ask.
“That’s not what I said.”
I sigh. “Honestly—it's a bit of a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” His response surprises me. Does he really want to know?
I clear my throat. “Okay. Well, I had a pretty big fight?—”
“With your boyfriend?” he cuts me off.
“No, I had a fight with my s-sister,” I explain.
“Ah, fights with your siblings can be brutal,” he sympathizes.
I nod slowly, even though he isn’t facing me.
The fact that he isn’t makes it easier to talk about.
I try to be as honest as possible. “Yeah, well, this was—more than brutal. I said some things…some really awful things.” I close my eyes against the onslaught of words.
Just because I’ve always let you get your way doesn’t mean the whole world revolves around you, Hana.
I’m so done with your shit. Just fucking grow up.
I open my eyes and hurry to catch up to Knox. “Anyway, we had this fight, although she also didn’t ever really like that I was with my boyfriend.”
“That’s rough. I love all my siblings’ partners—at least for now. I’m not sure I’ll ever like the guy my baby sister decides to settle down with.” I snicker at that.
“Ohh, so you’re the overprotective big brother, huh?”
He grunts. “We all are. She had no chance with three of us.”
“Are you all these huge, hulking men?” I ask, and it gets me a huffed laugh.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard us described quite so eloquently, but we’re all around the same size, yes.”
“Damn. That’s some intimidation there. Poor baby sister.” We reach the shed, and he opens the door, holding his hand out for the paddle. This time I give it to him.
“Did I mention we call her Baby Lo?” he offers.
“Oh nooo. I mean my sister and I had nicknames for each other growing up, but none that were spoken outside the house. That was agreed on once she hit middle school,” I tell him, laughing.
“What were they?” I notice he hasn’t flipped the light on in the shed, so I lean my back against the doorframe, and he walks to the peg where the paddle belongs.
“Weren’t you listening? We swore an oath,” I tell him seriously.
“Oh, of course.” I like this side of him. I like all sides of him. He’s a walking fantasy. But I like him being more open with me; I decide to take advantage. My curiosity won’t let up.
“So, the last we spoke, you were going to meet me for pizza. Did you get lost on your way there?” I ask, laughing a little.
It’s not like we’re old friends, but I would be lying if I hadn’t thought about this man on occasion over the years.
I slide my hat from my head, letting it fall to my back, and I fidget, running a hand through my messy hair.
“Okay, let’s just get right into it,” he says, blowing out a breath, reaching for the back of his neck again.
“First of all, I want you to know that I had every intention of meeting you. I had a lot of intentions where you were concerned,” he tells me, eyes boring into mine, and I think I see a glimmer of the man I met in that bar.
“I got a phone call on my way home that night. One that sort of rearranged my schedule.”
I’m on the edge of my seat, dying to know more about these intentions, but what I need is his reason for not showing up right now. Wondering what you did to make someone stand you up is hard to get over, and being stood up by Knox was one of the biggest pills I’ve had to swallow.
“Rearranged your schedule? So what, a work thing popped up?” I ask, a little miffed. A work call? Really?
“No, my daughter popped up. Or her mother did, letting me know about her,” he tells me pointedly.
Oh. “Holy crap on a cracker. That’s a big schedule rearranging.”
He hums. “It was. One I’m grateful for every day. I do regret not being able to get a hold of you though. If you recall, you had my number. I had no way of contacting you.”
“That’s valid. Wow, playing the adorable daughter card so soon. I guess I have no other option but to lay all the resentment I’ve held for you over the years down.”
“Have you held that much resentment? Have you thought about me that often?” he quips. I’d like to play hard to get, but if Knox is trying to get—he’s going to get.
“I’ll admit to the occasional thought of you. I’m not ashamed.” But I might be embarrassed now that I’ve told him. Hard to get is looking more appealing .
“I may have been harboring some curiosity of my own.” His admission has me taking in a deep breath. “So this is a big change from Atlanta, are you settling into small-town life okay?” Whoa. Subject change.
“It’s been an interesting introduction. But now that I feel a little stability in my living situation, thank you for that, yes. Being here, in the mountains, is starting to feel like an adventure to me, and nature makes me feel small. Manageable,” I confess.
“You are small,” he points out.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t mean physically. Although looks can be deceiving. I may be small, but I’m pretty tough.”
“I have no doubt. I know a tiny-but-mighty when I see one, and I felt that kick.” He grins that crooked grin again, and my heart stutters at the sight. Does he know how gorgeous he is?
“So the boyfriend in the city?”
“What about him?”
“He was fine with the long distance?” Is he asking if I’m single?
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “You can ask if I’m with someone, Knox. It’s only fair since I asked you the same thing,” I say, poking fun at myself and poking him in his chest with a finger.
He doesn’t laugh, but there’s humor in his eyes before he leans in, causing me to press my back against the doorframe, and asks, “Are you with someone, Indie?” His breath on my bare skin sends goose bumps down my arms. I’m becoming very aware that I’m still in my blue bikini.
I shake my head in response, unable to locate my voice.
The air between us is too thick. Too tension filled.
I fight my hands, hugging them to my sides as tightly as I can.
Then he keeps talking, causing me to doubt the function of my ears—or maybe I’m just having trouble hearing him over my own heartbeat.
“Do you wanna be?”