Chapter 21
Knox
I parked outside the rectangular, chrome-sided building and helped Sloane from the Jeep, then held the door for her to pass into the diner. I smiled at the large black-and-white checkered floor and red vinyl booths. Then at Sloane’s head as it bobbed to an oldies song playing on a jukebox.
Sloane’s shoulders relaxed as we stepped inside. She sang a few of the lyrics while we scanned the scene.
“Better?” I asked.
“I’m trying.” She managed a smile. “But this day sucks a lot so far.”
“Yeah.” We’d spent the morning with a grieving woman, and after days looking for the VW bus, it had found us. Worse, I’d never even noticed we were followed.
Now, the FBI was involved in our small-town case, and my instincts said we were dealing with something I wasn’t ready to think about. It really wasn’t a good day.
A waitress with short gray hair waved a hand in greeting. “Just the two of you?” she called from behind the long, narrow service counter.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
The woman had bright blue eyes and a wide, winning smile. Her badge indicated that her name was Dolores. “Right this way.” She grabbed two paper placemats and two sets of silverware rolled in napkins, then led us to a booth by the window. “How’s this?”
Sloane slid onto the bench and grinned. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“Y’all are just the cutest couple,” Dolores said, setting our table with the contents of her hands. “How long have you been together?”
“Not long,” I said, taking the seat across from Sloane. My legs tangled with hers beneath the table. The contact was electric, even through denim.
“But it feels like forever in the best way,” she added.
“That’s the way it should be,” Dolores said, handing us menus. “I’ll give you a minute to look over the options.”
I scanned the items under the lunch section, intensely aware of Sloane across from me.
The way she bit her lower lip while reading and the small furrow between her brows when she concentrated.
I especially liked the way her foot pressed against my ankle as if she needed the contact as much as I did.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, looking up. “For food.”
I stifled a smirk at her clarification. “Burger. Maybe fries.” I set down the menu. “You?”
“Grilled cheese and tomato soup. It’s comfort food, and after that last call with the sheriff, I need the comfort from this food.”
When Dolores returned, we ordered, and I found myself asking for a milkshake on impulse. Chocolate. My favorite as a kid.
“Make it two straws,” Sloane added.
“Oh, y’all are adorable,” Dolores said, scribbling on her pad. “Young love. Nothing sweeter.”
When she walked away, I raised an eyebrow. “Two straws?”
“Couples share milkshakes.”
“I have never in my life shared my ice cream,” I said.
Her lips curved into a slight smile but worry still lined her brow.
The food arrived quickly, and I found myself relaxing, despite the tension from our day.
Sloane stole fries from my plate, checking my expression each time, as if I might complain.
This was nice. Simple. Except for the bomb Nash had dropped.
And the fact nothing about our new relationship was real.
“Do you want to talk about what Nash said?” I asked.
She shook her head.
For a few minutes, we just ate. The clinking silverware, murmured conversations, and music from the jukebox wrapped around us like insulation from everything outside those walls. The fear, the investigation, the killer who’d followed us to Raleigh.
In here, we were just two people sharing a meal. I wanted to hold onto that feeling as long as I could. Sloane stole another fry from my plate, watching my reaction. “You’re going to keep doing that, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yep. Tell me something I don’t know about you,” she said, dragging my fry through ketchup. “I need a big distraction, and the comfort food is failing.”
“Pass.”
“Come on,” she urged. “I’ll do it too.”
I thought of everything Sloane had been through, and all she was still going through, and I caved. “I’m terrified of birds.”
Sloane’s laugh was bright and surprised. “You’re kidding.”
“Completely serious. When I was six, a seagull stole my hot dog right out of my hand, then attacked me when I tried to get it back.”
“You tried to get it back?” She roared with laughter.
“It was a shrimp po’ boy. Hell yeah, I tried to get it back. Damn thing fought me for it. And won! Traumatized me for life.”
She laughed louder. “You cannot be afraid of seagulls. You live on an island.”
“It’s not ideal.” I fought a smile and lost. “In my defense, those things are vicious, winged rats with no respect for personal space.”
Sloane was still laughing, and I felt warmth bloom in my chest at the sound.
“Okay, your turn.”
She sobered. “I can’t whistle.”
I laughed. “What?”
“It’s true,” she said. “Not at all. I’ve tried, but I’ve got nothing.” She demonstrated, pursing her lips and blowing out air that produced a breathy, wheezy sound. “See? Useless.”
I shoved a few fries into my mouth to squash my broadening smile. “That’s actually kind of endearing.”
“It’s embarrassing. I’d make a terrible catcaller. And forget about me summoning a horse.”
My inability to keep a straight face in her presence should’ve been frustrating. The fact I’d barely scanned the lot outside the diner in several minutes, too lost in the moment, should’ve caused horrible alarm bells. But all I could feel was charmed. And grateful.
We finished eating, and I paid despite Sloane’s protests.
Outside, the afternoon sun was warm and bright as we walked to the Jeep, my hand against the small of her back. The touch had become natural, necessary. Part of the performance that didn’t feel like performance anymore at all.
We were steps from her seat when Sloane slowed to a stop.
“Knox.” She looked up at me, her green eyes serious and searching. “This is getting a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I promised. “It all sounds scary, but we aren’t alone. You’ve got me and the guys, the sheriff’s department, and now, apparently, the FBI. The information we’re adding to the case will make a huge difference in their ability to find this guy. I’m sure of it.”
She inhaled deeply and released a long breath. “I agree with all of that, but it wasn’t what I meant.” She stepped closer and rested one small palm against my chest.
My hand covered hers on instinct, pressing it against my heart. My pulse hammered, and I could see my own confused feelings reflected in her eyes. Only then did I realize what she’d meant.
“I need to know if you feel this too.” Without further explanation, she rose slowly onto her toes, sliding her hand higher and cupping it to the back of my neck.
My hand fell to the curve of her waist as I watched, mesmerized.
Her chin tilted up. “Because this isn’t fake for me anymore. I’m not sure it ever was.”
A million reasons to step away again raced through my mind. Except, this time, the voice inside my head who wanted control wasn’t nearly as loud as the voice who wanted Sloane.
In that moment of hesitation, she closed the last few inches between us and kissed me.
The world tilted, and everything else, the investigation, the danger, the complicated circumstances that had brought us together, all of it faded away. There was only Sloane, warm and soft, her lips moving against mine with a sweetness that stole my breath.
I wrapped her in my arms, pulling her closer. One hand tangled in her hair, the other splayed across her lower back. She made a small sound of pleasure, and something in me came undone. Whatever thread of restraint had remained until that moment, snapped, pulled too tight for too long.
Sloane eased back with a grin, her eyes wide and bright, her cheeks flushed. “You do feel it too. I was right.”
I laughed, my hand still in her hair, my heart still racing. “You are.”
“Hmm.” She bit her lip, obviously pleased.
And suddenly I wanted to be the one biting that lip and causing that flush of pleasure.
“What?” I asked, my voice too low, too rough.
“I was just wondering what we’re going to do about this.”
An unexpected bark of laughter broke on my lips. “Get in the Jeep, Sloane.” I didn’t have an answer to her question, but I knew it was unwise to stand outside the diner any longer. Sloane was in danger. I couldn’t forget that. Not for another second.
She climbed into the passenger seat and watched closely as I rounded the hood to slide behind the wheel.
I stole a glance at her smug, beautiful face, as I started the engine, unable to fathom how someone as smart, fierce and kind as her could look at me as if I was something precious.
Moreover, how had a trip home to grieve the loss of my mother given me the space to feel such joy?
“So we agree,” she said. Sloane swiveled in my direction, making no attempt to fasten her seatbelt. “You’re definitely into me.”
I clenched my jaw to stifle a goofy grin. “You got me.”
The smile that broke across her face was like the sunrise. “Good. Because I really want to kiss you again.”
I scanned the lot, the street, the tree line in search of danger. Anything I’d missed. Anyone intending this perfect angel harm.
“Knox.”
My gaze snapped to hers.
“Kiss me.” She leaned closer, a look of challenge in her eyes. “Before I think you’re joking.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I let my natural southern drawl pull the words from my core as I obeyed her command.
This time when our lips met, it wasn’t sweet or tentative.
I kissed her the way I’d been dying to kiss her since the day we first met.
And when Sloane opened for me, sliding her sweet tongue over mine, I was completely gone.
No coming back. Lost to this little powerhouse.
We broke apart far too soon, and I rested my forehead against hers. We needed to get on the road. Back to the island. To someplace far safer than my Jeep.
I pulled onto the road a few minutes later, immediately testing the speed limit.
“This complicates things,” I said.
“It doesn’t have to.”
I shot a disbelieving look in her direction. She knew better. She was too smart not to. “I’m supposed to be protecting you. I need a clear head for that.”
Sloane’s smile was small and patient. She set a hand on my thigh, pressing gently. “Then protect me as if I’m already yours to lose.”
My heart and gut drew weapons at the thought. I’d do anything to protect the people I cared about. I would do anything to protect her.
Whether we’d kissed or not. Whether I’d tried to ignore those feelings or not, nothing would’ve changed this inevitable conclusion. The fact she cared for me too, only sealed the deal.
No one was getting to Sloane without going through me first.
And no one was getting through me.