32. Knox
I wake to the feel of a cool sheet instead of a warm body beside me. It’s still dark in the room, and there’s mumbling coming from somewhere in the house. I pull my briefs back on and walk out the door and down the hallway, stopping when I hear Indie’s voice more clearly.
“It’s really good here, Han. You would love it.
You would make fun of me in my hiking boots and the way I look like a baby deer standing up on a paddleboard.
” she sniffs. Is she crying? “I’m doing it though.
I’m living. And even though it’s only been a couple of months, I think I’m falling for Silverthorne—for him .
” My chest warms, and realizing I’m listening to a private conversation, my ears do too.
“Anyway, I love you. I miss you. Bye, dragonfly.” Dragonfly?
I hear a couple more sniffs and round the corner.
Indie’s standing by the front window, wrapped in one of the soft blankets from the couch.
She looks sad but hauntingly beautiful. I step out of the hall, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet.
Her head snaps to me at the sound, a small gasp filling the space between us .
I raise my hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, my voice thick with sleep.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you so early.” She smiles at me, but it’s not her normal smile—her real one. It doesn’t reach her eyes. I’ve never seen Indie sad before.
“What’s wrong? Who were you on the phone with?” I ask.
She holds up her phone. “Oh. Um, I was just calling my sister. Time difference and so I had to leave a voicemail. You can go back to bed.” The way her voice wavers has me walking across the room, tucking her to me so she’s in my arms again.
“I’m awake now,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head and tucking the short strands of dark hair behind her ears. She smiles into my touch, leaning up on her tiptoes, presumably to kiss me, but I have to bend down so she can reach my lips. “Do you want to talk about it? Is she still mad at you?”
She averts her eyes, the ghost of her real smile slipping a bit. “I-I’m not sure anymore. I told you I said some things to her I can’t take back, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg there.”
“Why don’t you come sit with me and get it off your chest?” I know from experience that not talking about things can cause them to fester and grow.
She answers by wrapping her arms around my neck and letting the blanket that was covering her drop to the floor.
Her, naked in my living room, staring up at me like she might be feeling what I’m feeling, is nothing I’ve ever experienced, and I know without a doubt that I’m fortunate to be sharing this with Indie.
“I have a better idea.” Her voice is low and raspy from lack of sleep.
She’s kissing me slowly, slipping her tongue into my mouth, stroking mine with it.
The thought of her tongue in other places on my body, doing other things is enough to have my cock digging into her through my briefs.
“Take me back to bed, Knox,” she murmurs against my lips. “Please.”
She doesn’t need to say please. I don’t know when it happened, but I now have another woman in my life who I can’t say no to—not that I would. I have this nagging feeling that anything Indie wants to do with, or to, me is something I’m going to crave.
Three hours later, we’re both fully awake in my kitchen.
After taking a quick shower, I came out to find Indie sitting at the kitchen table with one of her knees propped up, her chin resting on it.
Bare feet, in one of my old, threadbare T-shirts with half her hair pulled back on top of her head, she looks like I want to see her there, in my usual chair, for breakfast every day.
“Good morning…again.” She smiles up at me as I lean over the back of her chair, water droplets from my hair falling onto her. “You’re dripping.” She giggles.
“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” I ask, shaking my head so more droplets fall, causing her to blush. I kiss her warm cheeks and the tip of her nose before planting one on her mouth.
“What are your plans for the day?” she asks.
“I’m looking at her.”
“Yeah?” She turns in her chair, still looking up at me. “What would you say to going on a run with me?”
“How long of a run are we talkin’?”
“Just the loop I usually do. The one that breaks off from the main drive here.”
“I’m in, breakfast first?”
“Yes, food first always,” she agrees.
Opening and closing more than a few cabinets, I scratch the back of my neck, looking at Indie. “I’m having a little trouble finding all my pots and pans this morning. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, uhm so I read this article about how it could make cooking easier if you have all your tools and gadgets in designated places. For optimal use. I looked up the diagram and tried my best to get it right.” I don’t love that my kitchen has been reorganized. I like where I keep everything in here.
“I’m sure it's great, but I may need the diagram to find anything.” I say.
“I’m sorry. I should have asked you first,” she says quietly, looking uncomfortable.
“I’ll figure it out, Indie. Let me make us some food, and then we’ll go on your run.” I wink, and she nods, smiling.
I make us scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. A simple but high protein breakfast, and after the dishes are done, I change into shorts and a T-shirt.
Indie goes back to her place to change, and I’m already missing her and the peace that her constant chatter brings me.
I look in the mirror and find a smile on my face.
Just a few months ago, I would have been thrilled with a few hours of quiet and alone time.
Now, I want all my alone time to include her.
I look through the window toward her house and see her jogging back this way.
I smile seeing she’s wearing my hat again.
I put two filled water bottles in one of my smaller backpacks and slip it on before walking out to meet Indiana on the porch.
As she gets closer, I try to make out the words on her oversized T-shirt.
D.I.L.F.? I feel my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline.
Upon further inspection, I notice it’s covered in…frogs? Then I read the words underneath: Damn I Love Frogs. I laugh.
“I think this one is my favorite,” I tell her as she stops in front of me.
“Your favorite what?” she asks, smiling up at me from beneath the bill of my old ball cap.
“Shirt. All your shirts say something on them. Usually something funny, the other day it was a little obscene.”
“Obscene? I do not have a shirt that’s obscene, Mr. Holloway.” She presses her hand to her chest in mock shock before adding, “I think your age may be showing.” It’s her singsong tone that may be giving hers away at the moment.
“A few days ago, your sweatshirt had a crossword puzzle on it that, if you solved it, read Looking To Get Laid,” I tell her.
“While I’m flattered that you stared at my boobs that long, I wouldn’t call that obscene.” She smirks.
“No? And what would you call it?”
“The truth, and it looks like it reached its target audience,” she teases.
“Is that so?” I ask, pulling her to me.
Her smile is sweet and a little shy when she answers. “If last night is any indication, then I would say yes. Absolutely.” I kiss her once on the mouth, then both sides of her neck. Her laugh has me smiling into her skin. “Are you ready to go for our run? ”
“You know, if this is just about exercise, I can think of another way to get a workout in,” I tell her, and she giggles.
“Running isn’t just about the motion for me. That’s a big part of it, but usually when I run, it's a way for me to clear my mind. Although today, I’m not sure I’ll be able to think about anything but more of last night.”
“Are you sure you want me to come with you?”
“Are you sure you can keep up, old man?”
I huff a laugh and give her cheek a kiss before stepping back to stretch. “Give me everything you’ve got, Indie. I want your legs shaking.”
“You asked for it,” she taunts, grinning at me before taking off down the driveway.
I follow after like there’s an invisible tether pulling me toward her.
I would chase Indiana across the state just to be near her, to be close to the golden light she radiates.
“Just do your best, Knox. Don’t push yourself too hard.
We don’t want an injury at your age,” she calls over her shoulder.
I laugh, hoping she never stops giving me shit about my age.
When we started, three miles didn’t sound like a lot, but I would be lying if I said that my legs weren’t the ones feeling a little shaky.
“You did good, Knox,” Indie tells me from her spot in the middle of the wildflower field between our houses. She’s sitting down, reaching for one of her feet, stretching out her muscles.
“High praise,” I mutter, and she laughs .
“Maybe next time, we’ll bump it up to five miles?”
“Maybe,” I say. As long as there’s a next time. She leans back, lying in the tall grass.
“God, it’s beautiful out here. How do you do anything but just be here?”
“Mostly I would say it’s the three-year-old.” I grin.
She chuckles. “I bet Hazel loves being outside.”
“She does, but she’s also been very into being a ballerina lately,” I muse, dropping to the ground beside her.
“I’ve noticed that. All the twirling we did last week almost made me nauseous.”
“Just watching you both was making me dizzy—and I know, that makes me sound ancient.” I try to beat her to the punchline this time.
She snorts. “Have you given any more thought to dance classes? My sister and I both did dance when we were younger, and I looked up an article about dance and the brain, it can really be beneficial,” she rambles.
“You looked up an article, huh?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal; she just seems so interested.”
“I haven’t decided anything, but you don’t need to concern yourself with things like that. I’ll take care of it,” I tell her. I take care of everything when it comes to Hazel.
“Okay, well, just let me know if you want any help then.” Her tone is more subdued now. Was I being rude? I just get so defensive about anything having to do with Hazel, about anything that challenges my own way of doing things. But wouldn’t it be nice to share some of that?
“I will,” I say.
She just hums. I turn my neck to look at her. Eyes closed, the sun shining on her face, causing that hoop in her delicate nose to shine and the freckles across her cheeks to be more visible.
Her features are relaxed, a smile still curves her pink, plump lips.
My ball cap is discarded beside her, and soft chestnut waves form a circle around her head like a halo.
“You’re so beautiful, Indiana,” I say softly.
Not silently, but not quite out loud. The curve of her lips stretches further, becoming a more prominent smile.
She tilts her head toward my voice, eyes opening slowly. “Look who’s talking,” she whispers.
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And it’s not just your face or your body, Knox. Your heart is stunning. It’s a magnet for women like me.”
“Women like you?”
“Yeah. You know the ones. They’re quirky, kind of loud, on the younger side.
” She pauses to shoot me a wink. “They’re hopelessly attracted to a beard and a deep voice.
Throw in a few grunts and growls, and yeah—magnet.
” She paints me a picture, making broad strokes up toward the clouds floating by.
She’s beautiful in all the obvious ways—but it’s the way her hands are flying around in the air right now that has me wanting her.
I reach across the small space between us, placing my hand on the side of her head to turn her back to me. “Indie Baby, there aren’t any other women like you.”
Her lips turn up into a goofy smile. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me, Knox.”
“Why not?”
“Because when you do, I-I’m not sure you understand what it does to me.” She lets out a long breath .
“What does it do to you?” I ask, leaning over to kiss her lips, her eyelids, her cheeks, then just below her ear.
“It’s a long story.” She sighs in contentment while I explore which places I kiss elicit the most noises.
“Tell me everything.”