Chapter Eight
LILY
The light from the TV screen flickered, reflecting off the plate glass windows in the living room. During the day, I loved the view of the lake through those windows. At night, the dark was unfathomable. Oppressive.
I curled deeper into the corner of the sofa, pulling the soft chenille blanket over my legs and tried to focus on my movie.
On-screen, Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant bantered in quick-fire explosions of words, all sharp wit and biting humor.
Normally, I loved this movie. Tonight, it couldn't hold my attention.
Adam was tucked into bed after a series of arguments over everything from the temperature of his bath to the cartoon character on his pajamas. Par for the course with a five-year-old. Three books and a back-rub had him deeply asleep, his stuffed monkey clutched in his arm.
I was supposed to be unwinding in front of the TV.
Instead, my ears were trained for the slightest sound.
I assumed Knox was around somewhere. He'd turned down my invitation to dinner, choosing to stay in the cottage.
I'd seen him only a few times during the day, stalking through the woods around the house, a dark pack on his back, tools in his hands.
I didn't ask what he was doing.
I didn't need to know as long as he was keeping us safe.
I had to trust someone sometime. Knox was as good a place to start as any.
Rosalind Russell's ill-fated fiancé came on screen, prompting a sympathetic smile. He was nice enough, but how could any man live up to Cary Grant? My mind immediately flashed to Knox.
Knox and Cary Grant weren't remotely comparable. If anything, Trey had been more like Cary than Knox.
With his easy, smooth charm, his sense of style, his ability to always say the right thing at the right time, Trey was a master of the elegant facade. It had taken me years to guess at what lay beneath.
I watched Cary talk circles around Roslyn's fiancé and had to wonder if my lifelong love of Cary Grant was responsible for my attraction to Trey.
If so, Cary had a lot to answer for.
Trey's charm and wit had been all surface and no substance.
Knox was more silence than words. Action instead of empty reassurance.
I couldn't help remembering Davey's visit the day before and the way Knox had studied him, then made a point of not leaving us alone.
I wasn't the only one who thought something was off with Deputy Dave.
It wasn't just Knox's blunt lack of charm I found appealing. Trey had been slender. Lean and fit, but slight of build. Far bigger than me, but nothing like Knox.
Those shoulders…
Just thinking about Knox's shoulders brought a flush of heat to my cheeks. And other places.
Don't forget about his forearms, the light sprinkle of dark hair over tanned skin, muscle corded beneath. So much strength. He was tall, broad and could probably break me in two.
Why didn't that scare me? It should. Trey was dead, and with every day that passed, I was more certain his car hadn't gone over that bridge by accident.
Knox's serious, steady gaze filled my mind. He was a virtual stranger, employed by a company Trey had chosen, which should have made him instantly suspect.
Less trustworthy, not more.
So why did I want to trust him?
I needed to be sure my instincts were on target. That some deeply-buried part of me recognized Knox's innate goodness. Maybe that was it. Or maybe I was a woman alone, starved for touch, for affection, allowing her mind to be swayed by a tight ass and dark eyes.
My mind drifted to another old favorite. Dial M for Murder. And another. Gaslight. Men fooling women who wanted to believe the best of them. Just because Knox looked like an action hero didn't make him the good guy.
I focused on the movie. It worked for about two minutes. Then Cary Grant cracked a joke, and the wicked glint in his eye reminded me of the way Knox had winked at Adam as they'd watched Davey pretend to enjoy my coffee cake.
His lip had curled in a hint of a smile, but Adam had seen it and laughed along with him. Could I trust my son's instincts if I couldn't trust my own?
Adam had never warmed up to his father. When Trey was alive, their distance broke my heart. Now I could only be grateful for it. Adam was hot and cold with Davey, but Knox he took to right away.
What did Adam see when he looked at Knox Sinclair? It wasn't the ruggedly handsome face—the strong lines of his jaw that warned me off, and the lush lower lip that invited me in. It wasn't his long-fingered hands or his powerful thighs—
No, Lily. No way.
I pushed the heels of my palms into my eyes until I saw stars behind my eyelids, banishing my lustful thoughts of Knox Sinclair.
He's here to keep you safe, not to perv over. You and Adam have been doing fine without a man around. Knox can't do his job if there's anything personal between you so get your hormones under control and forget about him.
I'd get over it. I'd get used to Knox being here, and I'd stop thinking about him like this. It was only the novelty of having a man around who was even slightly trustworthy. Once I got used to him, things would change. They had to. The last thing I needed was a man to complicate my messy life.
I was so wrapped up in my head, the shrill beep of the new perimeter alarm sent me bolting off the couch with a shriek. Adrenaline spiked up my spine and down my limbs, leaving my fingers and toes prickling. My heart thundered in my chest, so loud it almost drowned out the alarm.
Fumbling for my phone, I called Knox. It rang once, twice, three times before Knox's low voice invited me to leave a message.
“Knox? It's Lily. The alarm went off, and I don't know—”
I jolted, almost dropping the phone as it vibrated in my hand with an incoming text. I ended the message to Knox's voicemail and tapped the screen of my phone. Knox.
Perimeter sensors tripped. Adam's room. Lock the door.
I took off down the hall, leaving the movie still playing in the background. I flew up the stairs, skidding to a halt outside of Adam's door, trying to get my breath under control so my wild gasps wouldn't wake him.
I eased into the dark room to see my boy sprawled across his bed, covers kicked to his feet, his too-long blonde curls splayed across the pillow. His back rose and fell with slow, deep breaths.
Adam didn't stir as I sat on the floor beside his bed, leaning my head against the mattress much as I had the night I'd called Knox.
The minutes passed like hours, dragging until a second might as well have been an eternity. The perimeter alarm cut off, leaving behind a heavy silence.
I couldn't make out anything no matter how hard I strained my ears. Not a footstep. Not the crack of a branch, the sound of a knob turning, or a door swinging open. Nothing.
When my phone vibrated again, I clamped my teeth into my lip to hold back the squeal of alarm. Another message from Knox.
Outside clear. Checking the house. Stay put.
I rested my chin on my raised knees and waited, listening.
I thought I heard a door open and close.
A heavy, steady tread on the hardwood floor, the sound coming into focus and fading as Knox walked past the stairs.
Then the thump, thump, thump of him jogging to the second floor, the creek of the joists as he moved down the hall, methodically checking every inch of the house.
Finally, another message.
House is clear. Meet me in the living room.
I took a deep breath for the first time in a half hour and rose from the floor feeling creaky and tired. Leaving Adam still deeply asleep, I made my way downstairs to find Knox standing in the center of the living room, hands on his hips, eyes locked to the TV screen.
I'd forgotten to pause the movie. Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant were bickering. Knox watched with the same amused expression as the spectators in the film. His dark eyes turned to me as I entered the room.
“What was it? An animal?” I asked hopefully.
Knox shook his head once. “No. Human. Smaller than me, bigger than you. I'll take a closer look at the footage from the cameras later. Whoever it was had an idea that the cameras were there. The good news is they didn't get close to any of the doors or windows.”
“And the bad news?”
“That they suspected there was surveillance, and they tried anyway.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. I was relieved no one had gotten inside. Relieved Knox was there to search the woods in the dark instead of me. Knox was far better equipped to scare off whoever kept trying to break in than I was.
I tried a faint smile. “Your upgrades to the alarm system paid off.”
The side of Knox's mouth quirked in a semblance of a grin, and he let out a rumbling noise that could have been a chuckle. “That's one way to look at it.”
“I'll take what I can get,” I mumbled.
Knox's eyes sharpened. “We're only getting started, Lily. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.”
My throat tightened with gratitude. I couldn't force out a word, so I settled for a brisk nod.
“What's the movie?” Knox asked, inclining his head at the screen.
I swallowed hard before I said, “His Girl Friday. Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant. They're divorced, but they used to work together—”
Knox watched Rosalind and Carey bicker/flirt for a few seconds before saying, “They don't look very divorced to me.”
“They don't, do they? But they haven't figured that out yet.”
Knox stood, his thumbs tucked in his pockets, his eyes on the screen. He didn't look like he intended to go anywhere. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, not sure what to say.
I opened my mouth and out came, “Are you hungry? I have leftover pot roast if you want something to eat. You can watch the rest of the movie…”
I trailed off, not sure where the invitation had come from. I wasn't sure it was a good idea, but it was too late to take it back.
Knox pulled his eyes from the screen and said, “Sure.”
Sure? That wasn't what I expected him to say.