14. Knox
I t’s as if my brain is completely separate from my mouth. Indie weaves some strong magic. The only thought I have is that I don’t want to stop being around her. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m asking her to my place for a drink.
“I’m sorry. What?” Indie asks. Like maybe she’s misheard me, or maybe my invitation is a complete surprise. I had thought there was some flirting happening, but now I’m feeling like I read this all wrong.
“Do you want to have a drink? With me?” I repeat, scratching at the back of my neck.
“Like at your house? Now?” The shock on her face is…confusing. How had I misread this so completely? I lean back, putting a little space between us.
“Unless you don’t want to,” I say, trying to sound more casual than I’m feeling. Having never been good at anything resembling dating, I’m doing my best here but flying blind.
“I want to,” she blurts, reaching out to grab my arm. My lips curl into a smile at her acceptance and her hand on me .
“Okay. Good.” I turn and walk to the house, somewhat awkwardly, just hoping she’s following.
“Your place is beautiful,” she says after we walk a few steps.
“Thank you. The renovations were a lot more extensive than I had originally planned, but I’m happy with them,” I tell her honestly.
“Did you do all the renovations yourself?”
“Not all of them, I hired out most of the heavy lifting, and my family helped with the more cosmetic issues.”
“That’s nice. No one in my family is very handy, so it probably would have ended up in worse shape than when we started if we took on that kind of project,” she muses, and I laugh.
“Not everyone in mine is, I found that out the hard way.”
“Now, if we’re talking design or interior decorating, the Holmes family are your people.”
“Oh yeah?”
“My parents are both artists. Dad works on movie sets, and my mom does oil paintings.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you an artist?” I clarify.
She laughs. “If you had ever seen a drawing of mine as a kid, you wouldn’t be asking me that.”
“No one can draw when they’re a kid,” I tell her, thinking of the last thing Hazel has proudly presented. Did I put it on the fridge? Yes. Do I know what it is? No.
“Maybe. But if I showed you one I did today, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” That makes me laugh.
“You laugh, but it’s actually kind of sad.” She chuckles .
“Sad how?” I ask, reaching the side door of the house and sliding it open.
“You try growing up in a family that paints murals and makes everything they touch beautiful.” I consider her words. We may not have had similar childhoods, but being in a family that feels different from you is something I can sympathize with.
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be fair if you looked like you do and you could make everything beautiful,” I tease, taking off my shoes by the door.
She smiles at me, tucking some hair behind her ear. It’s shy, and so fucking sweet, and I want to reach out to feel the strands between my fingers.
“How do I look?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re beautiful, Indie.”
Her smile widens, and I’m rewarded with a blush. She dips her head to the shoe rack, eyebrows raising.
“What size shoe do you wear?” she asks, then snaps her head up. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. What kind of drinks are we having?”
I laugh; it would seem both of us are having trouble with our filters tonight. “Twelve,” I answer, even though she said I didn’t have to. “And do you have a preference? I was going to have a beer, but I have some wine or whiskey,” I offer.
“A beer sounds great,” she tells me, taking a seat on a stool at the island, then asks, “So…what do you do for work, Knox?”
“I’m a lawyer,” I answer, grabbing two cans from the fridge and handing one to her.
“That sounds exciting.” She pulls back the tab on her beer and takes a drink.
“It can be. Silvethorne is a little slower paced than New York, but I find it a bit more rewarding.” I crack open my own can and take a long sip.
“How so?”
“Well, for one, I would say I know 98 percent of my clients personally, so it’s nice to have that personal connection. Knowing the people I’m helping are good ones.”
“That makes sense.”
“It’s really nice to be back home. With my family and friends. This community really cares about its people.” Indie hums in response. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing, it's just that Winnie said the same thing to me. I’m looking forward to being a part of that.” She looks at her hands.
“Yeah? Planning on sticking around for a while then?” There’s probably a little too much hope in my voice. I may not want to admit it, but I do want her around.
“Well, not here. I’m hoping to be out of your hair as soon as I’m able to.” She throws my earlier words back at me. “But in town? Yes, that’s the plan.”
I nod. “Did I mention that I’m sorry for saying that?”
“I think I got a note or something,” she teases, taking another long drink.
“It wasn’t about you,” I start. “You’ve been nothing but nice and—” I clear my throat. “Well, that was more about me.”
“I see.”
I laugh. “I don’t think you do because I’m not sure I really understand myself.”
“You caught me.” She sighs, making me laugh again.
“I haven’t had a neighbor in a long time, Indie. I haven’t made a friend in even longer,” I admit. Friend. The word feels wrong .
“You’re doing fine, Knox, I should probably get back home though.
“Sure.” I step toward her, reaching behind her head for her hat.
Her eyes flick back and forth between my eyes and my mouth, a light blush on her cheeks from the beer or maybe something else.
Her big, brown eyes meet mine with curiosity, like she might be okay with me doing something other than getting her hat.
I grab it off the hook and set it on her head, adjusting it to fit.
“You’re really leaning into the whole namesake thing, aren’t you?
” I’m close enough now to feel the breath from her answering chuckle.
“This was a gift from my sister. My parents are big film buffs. They love Harrison Ford, hence the names Indiana and Han,” she explains.
“It suits you,” I tell her. And it does. She looks sexier than she has a right to in that hat, and I can’t imagine another woman with her name. “Come on, Indie. I’ll walk you to your place.”
She shakes her head at me. “Not necessary, Cowboy.”
I smile down at her. “Cowboy?”
“Isn’t this the Wild West?” she asks with a flutter of her eyelashes.
“I wouldn’t describe Silverthorne like that exactly.”
Smiling, she slides open the glass door, and I follow her through it. “You really don’t need to walk me. It’s what? Half a mile?”
“More or less, but it’s dark.”
“Do you think something is going to get me? I’m a pretty fast runner, you know,” she jokes.
“Oh yeah? I might believe you, but if you can’t see it coming, then how will you know to run?
” I flinch in her direction, causing her to scream.
Loudly. We may not have neighbors, but I would be shocked if someone in the next county over didn’t hear it.
I laugh. Hard. Why is it so fun to tease this woman?
“Asshole.” She shoves at me, but I don’t move. Her hand lingers for a few seconds on my stomach. I may or may not be flexing for her.
“A lot of the time I can be,” I agree quietly.
“That must be freeing.”
“How so?”
“Not worrying about everything that comes out of your mouth and how someone else might take it? What that must be like?” she says dreamily.
“Is that really how you go through life?” I ask.
She nods. “For the most part.”
“I’m not an expert, but I don’t know if that’s healthy,” I tease.
“Oh, it’s not. Rest assured, the experts all agree with you.”
I hum, but don’t comment.
“Got any big plans for tomorrow?” she asks.
“I’m going for a hike.”
“I’ve been wanting to go on a hike. I even made a list of trails in the area I want to try.” I think she might be fishing for an invite, but I’ve been wrong before.
“Have you ever been hiking before?”
“Not exactly, but I went for a run on the trail that cuts off the main drive here and made it back in one piece,” she tells me quickly. Eagerly. There is no pretense now.
“Would you want to go, Indiana?” The question hangs between us. It’s not like I've asked her on a date, but close enough .
“Oh. Um, sure. What time?” I can tell she’s excited, but she doesn’t want me to know. Her mouth is tilted up, and I want to kiss the corner of it.
I grin. “Seven?”
“Perfect. I’ll be on your porch ready to go,” she says, moving to take the steps up to the front door. I don’t try to stop my eyes from watching her ass as she goes. She turns back to me when she reaches the top. “Goodnight, Knox.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, Indie. Goodnight,” I say, before walking back to my house in the cool evening air. I can feel her eyes on me until I make it to the edge of my yard.
When I lie down in bed, it takes me much longer than usual to fall asleep. Thinking of Indie being right down the road, within walking distance, has me wired. When I do succumb to sleep, she’s there too. In that blue swimsuit, smiling at me.