Chapter 10
ten
Billie
It’s the evening of my birthday and the last thing I feel like doing is celebrating.
The scent of vanilla wafts through the crack beneath the door of my room, a clue that my mother is baking me a cake for after dinner.
My aunt, uncle and one remaining grandmother are coming to dinner tonight and I have no idea how I’ll force myself to be social.
There’s an invisible knife protruding from the center of my chest.
I can’t seem to stop myself from crossing the room and easing back my curtains, allowing me to look out at Knox’s house, where it sits atop the mountain. Was I na?ve to think he felt something more than lust for me?
Does he miss me at all?
Probably not.
I drop the curtain and slump.
For all I know, he’s going to send the bank to reclaim our ranch any day now. After all, I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain. Not completely.
I walk to the full-length mirror positioned in the corner of my room, turning sideways to observe how the baby pink party dress fits me.
I had hoped that putting on makeup and fancy clothes might elevate me from the dumps, but I’ve had no such luck.
My chest burns with the pain of how Knox treated me the last time we were together.
Gone was any trace of the tenderness he’d given me before.
I was a body. Nothing more.
He didn’t kiss me or praise me or soothe me.
Just a quick, crude fuck to breed a female. Nothing more.
I lay a hand on my stomach and imagine it swelling larger with Knox’s baby.
I might not have to imagine it much longer, because my period is late.
Only by one day so far, but even that small of a delay is unusual for me.
I’m terrified that I might be pregnant. I’m also hoping that I am.
If he was serious about bequeathing my family the ranch in exchange for a son, then I have to play the hand I’m dealt.
Would Knox let me be involved in the baby’s life?
Would Knox want me in his life, too? Would this baby connect us forever?
I must not have shaken my entire naivete, because I desperately hope so. I can’t imagine a life without Knox in it, as horrible and destructive as that sounds. We connected, though, didn’t we? Deeply? It couldn’t all have been make-believe.
The weight of missing him certainly isn’t a dream.
Happy voices carry down the hallway to my room, telling me our guests have arrived. I have no choice but to go down and participate in my own birthday, even though my heart is in pieces.
With a deep breath, I open my bedroom door, pasting a smile on my face as I enter the kitchen and greet everyone.
Hugging my aunt, uncle and grandma. My mother seems to know I’m not one hundred percent myself, because she mouths are you okay at me three separate times.
I nod in response, hoping to reassure her. Hoping to reassure myself, too.
I distract myself by helping my mother take the chicken noodle casserole out of the oven.
It was my favorite meal as a child and she continues to make it for me every single birthday, even though my palate has evolved.
It’s tradition, though, and it comforts me now.
The six of us sit down at the long table beneath the antler chandelier, my uncle and father deep in discussion about cattle prices.
I’m scooping servings of casserole onto everyone’s plates when there’s a knock at the door. My uncle stops talking and everyone’s head whips toward the door.
“Who could that be?” my mother asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“I have no idea,” I say honestly, setting down the serving spoon. “I’ll go see.”
I’m halfway to the door when awareness warms the skin of my neck, my cheeks. My pulse begins to speed, my steps a tad clumsy. We did invite Knox Morgan to my dinner birthday, but he didn’t actually show up. Right?
After I told him I never wanted to see or speak to him again?
Please be here. Please be him.
I’m flushed and incapable of breathing as I open the door, a small sound bubbling from my mouth when I find Knox looking down at me from the other side of the threshold.
He doffs his hat, his breath hissing out of him like a rush of escaping helium.
Those weary, dark green eyes race to take me in, top to bottom.
I do much the same with him, I’m sure. How could I not when he looks so gorgeous in jeans and a button-down shirt, face shaved, hair still wet from a shower?
“Billie, my God…” He shakes his head. “You look fucking beautiful.”
“You look beautiful, too,” I whisper, without thinking. You’re supposed to be angry at him. No, I am still angry. He was horrible to me the last time we were together.
I shake my hair back with a sniff.
“What are you doing here?” I say quietly, not wanting my family to overhear. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“Yes, you did. And you had every right.” He grips the frame of the door and leans toward me, his intense gaze running laps around my face. “I should be condemned to hell for the way I treated you.”
My heart slams into my ribcage. “Yes, you should.”
His swallow is loud. “If it makes you feel better, hell is exactly how it has been without you. Every hour feels like a year, knowing you’re not coming to see me. That you’re not going to waltz into my house like you own the place and turn me upside down.”
I don’t have a chance to respond to that, because my mother materializes at my side, gasping when she sees who it is. “Mr. Morgan! I wasn’t sure you’d really come.” She splits a look between me and Knox, who is still staring at me hard. “Please. Come on in and we’ll fix you a plate.”
His chest dips and he nods once. “Thank you, ma’am.”
My mother rushes back into the kitchen, presumably to gather a plate and cutlery.
Knox, meanwhile, steps right into my space, forcing me to tilt my head back.
“Happy birthday,” he says roughly, looking at my mouth.
“Don’t even think about it,” I whisper, goosebumps lifting on every inch of my skin.
“Think about what?”
“Kissing me.”
He drags his bottom lip through his teeth. “Kissing you is all I think about, Billie.”
My word. “Is that so?” I whisper, my voice unsteady. “W-well it’s my birthday. I’m getting presents, not the other way around.”
“For now, getting to be near you is enough.”
I gasp, pushing him in the chest a little. “Stop that.”
He presses into my hands, like they’re shock paddles and he needs them to live. “Stop what, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. “Being romantic when I’m mad at you.”
Knox grins down at me and I’m instantly mesmerized, swaying closer to him. Has he ever smiled like that before? With crinkles in the corners of his eyes and all his teeth showing? I knew he was a handsome devil, but this is outrageous.
“You’re really going to have dinner with my family?” I murmur. “You said you weren’t coming to my little birthday party.”
My reminder of his harsh words causes misery to blanket his features, that grin long gone. “Billie, I—”
“Mr. Morgan,” my father says, approaching with his hand out warily. He seems relieved when Knox shakes his hand. “My wife failed to inform me that she’d invited you to dinner.”
“I didn’t really think he’d come,” my mother squawks from the kitchen. “Honey, did you know Billie and Mr. Morgan run into one another out in the pasture, from time to time?”
My father issues me a double take. “Do they now?”
I shrug guiltily. “It’s just a friendly sort of thing.”
“Friendly,” my father repeats.
Knox’s face is impassive. At least, at first. “Actually, sir, I’ve gotten to know your extraordinary daughter quite well.
” The resulting silence weighs heavy in the air.
In my stomach, too. What is Knox doing? “She has told me a lot about your family and how important the ranch is to you. How important it is to her that it remain in your hands, for generations to come.” He slides an envelope out of his back pocket, handing it to my father, and all I can do is stare, my pulse tapping out a quick rhythm against my ear drums. “The land is yours now, free and clear.” Knox has to raise his voice to speak over my father’s stuttering.
My mother’s weeping. “I’m only asking for one thing in return. ”
“What is that?” my father asks, struggling to speak.
Knox looks at me, intention inscribed clearly on his face. “I want the opportunity to convince your daughter to be my wife. I want your permission to pursue her, if she’ll allow me the chance.”
My head rings like someone attached a gong to my brain and smacked it.
Is this real?
Did Knox just sign over the ranch to my parents?
He doesn’t even know if I’m pregnant yet.
Or…is he saying that it doesn’t matter? That he wants me no matter what?
To be his wife?
“I…” My father gapes down at the deed to our new land, then over at me. “Well, I suppose it’s up to Billie. I would never force her to—”
“He can try,” I whisper, feeling shaky. Elated. A little drunk. I can’t stop staring up at Knox, who appears to be holding his breath. Hanging on my every word. “Try being the operative word. I can’t promise I’ll ever say yes to being your wife.”
Brave words when my voice is trembling, right?
“All I’m asking for is a chance, Billie.” Knox says gruffly.
I can’t blink or the tears forming in my eyes are going to fall. I probably look crazy.
“Then, okay,” I whisper.
His chest hollows and fires back up. “Okay?”
I nod, a happy giggle sneaking out.
So badly do I want to be in his arms, I want to be kissed, but with a rapt audience surrounding us, all I can do is long. Are we really going to sit down and eat chicken noodle casserole after this whole dramatic presentation?
Turns out, no. We’re not.
“Your birthday present is outside,” says Knox.
Curious, I take a few steps and peek out the front door.
The gray mare I’ve been mooning over for a year is tethered in my front yard.