Chapter Thirty-Six
LILY
Iwas almost as nervous as I had been on the way to see my parents. At least I was used to my parent's disapproval.
Knox's family was a whole new set of people who I desperately wanted to like me and who had good reason not to.
I already knew his brother Cooper wanted me nowhere near Knox. Griffen, Lucas, and Charlie had been great, but they weren't his family.
I had a temporary stay of execution. Knox wanted to take us home, to his house, before we braved the Sinclair Security offices and figured out what to do about LeAnne Gates.
The transition from the highway to the congestion of Atlanta was abrupt. We descended from the mountains into miles and miles of rolling green hills, exits only popping up here and there, and then Knox got off the highway and we came to an abrupt stop in dense traffic.
He lived here? I couldn't see Knox surrounded by all this concrete and exhaust. He'd been so at home in the woods of Maine, content with the isolation of the cabin.
I knew he lived in Atlanta, but I'd never been to the city before, hadn't spent a lot of time in cities in general, and I had no clue what to expect.
A few miles after we left the highway, Knox turned off of the main road, took a right, then a left, and we found ourselves on a two-lane byway shaded by tall, old-growth trees.
“How far is it to your house?” I asked. I'd completely lost my bearings. First, we were in the country, then the city, now it felt like we were in the country again.
“This is Buckhead. I live close by, a few miles from the house I grew up in and Winters House. The Sinclair offices aren't far, so it made sense to stay in the area.”
Knox was nervous, too. Because he was worried what his brothers would say? That they wouldn't like me? He already knew Cooper wanted me gone.
I couldn't think of any other reason for Knox to be nervous about bringing me home.
We turned onto an even narrower road with mailboxes set every few hundred feet. Knox slowed in front of one and turned down a smoothly-paved driveway, the dark strip of asphalt curving to disappear into the trees.
“The, uh, lot is a good size, but the house is small. I didn't need much. And anything in Buckhead is expensive so—”
Knox trailed off. We turned the corner of the drive and a house came into view. Nothing like what I'd expected.
“This is it?” I asked, too surprised to be more gracious.
Knox cleared his throat. “I, uh, yeah. This is it.”
Knox lived in a fairy-tale cottage. Steeply peaked eves slanted down, framing diamond-paned mullioned windows trimmed in dark wood.
Rough siding was stained a dark green—forest-green—with lushly overflowing planters hanging off the rail of the covered front porch.
Stacked stone detailed the foundation and corners of the house, an earthy contrast to the copper gutters glinting in the sun.
This wasn't at all what I'd expected, and it was utterly charming. Better than a fairy-tale cottage. It was real, and it was so completely Knox, I was already in love with it.
“Did you do the planters on the porch?”
I had to ask. Not once had I seen him show any interest in gardening. Rubbing the back of his neck, a ruddy flush on his cheeks, he said, “I have a service. It's—do you like it?”
“You have to ask? Knox, it's beautiful. It's just not what I expected. It's so pretty.”
“Did you think I lived in a dump?”
“No.” I slapped his arm on a laugh and turned to unfasten my seatbelt so I could get out and explore in person. “This is just, honestly, not the kind of place I'd guess a single guy would live in. Like I said, it's pretty. It's gorgeous.”
Knox didn't say anything, the red staining his cheeks speaking for him. He let Adam out of the SUV and preceded us to the door. “I'll unload the car. You can take a look around.”
Good, because I was planning to.
Knox swung the door open, saying, “I reset the thermostats and checked everything before we left the cabin, so it should be good. Just, uh, make yourself at home.”
I wasn't sure I liked the way the Sinclair's technology meant they could see and hear everything everywhere. The number of cameras Knox had at my house was a little creepy. On the other hand, it was awfully nice to walk out of the Atlanta heat into a cool, air-conditioned house.
I stepped through the front door, admiring the way it was curved at the top instead of square, how it appeared to be made from roughly cut wood held together by black iron straps. It looked like something from a movie about hobbits or witches and wizards.
A small wood and iron peek-through door was cut in at eye level, so if someone knocked, you could open it to see who was there without opening the whole door. I was sure there was more sophisticated surveillance I couldn't see—this was Knox, after all—but the peek-through door was too cute.
Inside, the walls were roughly-finished plaster painted a dark cream, the style bringing to mind a house centuries-old. The cozy front entry had stairs on one side leading to the second level and opened into a two-story great room that looked out into the woods behind the house.
A wide stone fireplace dominated one wall of the room. The other side flowed into the kitchen and eating area with more stone, granite, and gorgeous chestnut cabinets.
The inside was as much fairy-tale cottage as the exterior. Not in a feminine way. There wasn't an overstuffed throw pillow or scented candle in sight. Furnished in shades of brown and green with blue accents, the cottage was Knox through and through.
I was still standing in the middle of the great room when he came back carrying two duffel bags. “The bedrooms are this way.”
I followed him up the stairs by the front door. At the top, we turned right, and I found myself in a short hall, a bedroom on each side.
One of them was decorated in shades of blue, with a double bed tucked under the eaves. “Adam, this look okay for you?” Knox asked.
Adam took in the cozy, slanted roof, the armchair with foot rest in the corner and the double bed, bigger than the one he’d left at home. “Cool, Mr. Knox. Can I put my stuff in here?”
Knox sent me a questioning look.
Was I going to pretend we’d stay anywhere else? No, I wasn’t. I didn’t think I could bring myself to leave Knox. It would have been hard enough after we left Maine, but now?
Three weeks of being at his side and the idea of sleeping without him, living without him, was unthinkable. Not going to happen.
Still, I had to give him an out. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“Lily, don’t even ask. I want you here. Both of you.”
“Okay, then. By now you know what you’re getting into.” Unzipping the duffel bag where Adam had shoved his stuffed animals, I said, “Here you go, kiddo. I’ll do your clothes, but you can unpack your toys. We’ll get the rest in a little bit.”
Adam was instantly distracted. I followed Knox back to the top of the stairs and across a walkway overlooking the great room, bordered by the slant of the roof on one side and a black iron rail on the other.
I’d been so distracted downstairs I hadn’t noticed the walkway above. At the other end, Knox opened a door into the master bedroom.
A big wooden bed dominated the wall opposite the door. Tall windows with more of those diamond-shaped panes looked out into the woods. The open door to the bathroom gave me a peek of a huge soaking tub and oversized walk-in shower.
“Did you decorate this?” I could not see Knox picking out furniture.
His laugh answered my question. “No. No way.
I bought it from the family who built it, and they had good taste.
It's a lot newer than it looks, so I didn't have to update anything.
Jacob—Jacob Winters—has a good decorator.
I told her what I liked, and she did all the work.
Anything that doesn't fit probably came from my old place.”
“It's perfect. Everything is beautiful.”
“Yeah?” Knox dropped the duffel bag and turned to face me, uncertainty in his dark eyes. “You like it? Enough to stay?”
I wrapped my arms around him, determined to chase the question from his beautiful eyes.
“I'm happy anywhere you are, Knox. I was happy in that little cabin. I would have been happy in a tent. And whatever your house looked like would have been fine as long as you're there with me. But this place is beautiful. I love it. I—”
The words almost stuck in my throat. I couldn't believe I hadn't said them yet. Those weeks in the cabin had been perfect. A dream. This, standing in Knox's bedroom, in his house, in his city—this was real. This was life. It was time to take a chance.
Knox asked all those weeks ago if I trusted him. The answer was yes. It was yes then, and it was yes now. The answer would always be yes, as long as Knox was asking.
Going up on my toes, I pressed my lips to his. “I love your house, and I love you. I've loved you for a while, and—”
I didn't get out another word. Knox's hands cupped my face, holding me as his mouth devoured mine, saying everything with his lips he didn't have to say with his voice.
He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist as soon as my feet left the ground. Three long steps and my back hit the wall, Knox's mouth hungry and demanding.
Who knows what would have happened if Adam's voice hadn't floated down the hall? “Mom, where's my box of toys?”
Knox pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, panting lightly. “First time I've wished we were alone,” he said with a rueful laugh.
I shifted so he could set me on my feet. His arms tightened, keeping me still. Voice hoarse, he called out, “One second, bud. I'll get it out of the car.”
Forehead on mine, voice a rumble, he said, “I love you, too. I think I've loved you since I saw your picture in that file, since you opened your door and looked like you wanted to slam it in my face.”
Even then he'd been able to read me like a book. I wouldn't pretend I hadn't wanted to slam the door in his face, but letting Knox Sinclair in had been the best decision of my life.
“I love you,” he said, “and I love Adam.”
A beep sounded somewhere in the house. Knox straightened. Pulling his phone from his pocket he looked at the screen and swore.
“Fuck. Seriously?” Shoving his phone back into his jeans, he dropped a quick kiss on my temple and muttered, “Prepare for the invasion.”