Chapter 17
Knox
Itighten my abs, slinging the ax into the log in front of me. The crack is as satisfying as always. I don’t particularly need firewood, but I’ve got a mountain of tension to dispel, and this is my only outlet.
Finn is sitting in his tiny camping chair that came with an umbrella.
He’s got his sunglasses on while he sips from a thermos of lemonade.
I keep stealing glances at him because he looks so damn cute over there.
In the last hour, he’s switched from reading books to coloring, and now he’s got a lap tray out to give him a surface to build with LEGO blocks.
I’ve told him he doesn’t have to spend time out here with me when it’s cooler inside, but he said he’d rather breathe the fresh air.
I have a feeling he picked up on my mood and is showing me his support in the only way he knows how.
Quality time has always been his love language, and I can’t deny that I enjoy the time with him too.
This may not be us directly interacting with each other, but it’s a way to be together despite my need for a physical outlet he can’t participate in.
Seeing Farrah at the diner this morning sent me into a tailspin.
I knew she worked at the diner on the weekends—my friends have mentioned it in passing.
It was easy to avoid since I would rather cut my arm off than spend more than five minutes in that place, especially on a busy Sunday when all those busybodies congregate for their weekly gossip session.
When my business manager, Alicia, asked to meet at the diner to go over our upcoming projects, I thought it would be fine. It’s the middle of the week, and Farrah has been busy working on her house. Any time I checked on the cows on the back edge of my property, I saw her truck sitting outside.
It pissed me off, knowing she was probably using that ladder without anyone around to ensure she was safe, but I wasn’t about to storm into her house a second time. Once was plenty.
But no. Farrah couldn’t help but be unpredictable. She had to not only be at the diner at the same time I was, but also be our waitress.
Then she had the audacity to look even more gaunt than the last time I saw her. I might’ve blacked out a bit when I was filling out the tip line, but I know it was way more than I should’ve given her.
Fuck.
What the fuck was I even thinking?
I wasn’t.
That’s the bottom line. She’s driving me up the wall, and my reaction to her is so unpredictable that I swear one of these days I’m going to lose my mind.
If I haven’t already, that is. Things are a bit questionable.
Especially given that someone is walking up our driveway who looks an awful lot like Farrah.
I stoop to pick up the pieces of wood I just split, throwing them onto the pile that’s been steadily growing for the last hour.
Another glance at the intruder confirms my suspicions.
That’s definitely Farrah, and based on the expression on her face, she’s pissed about something.
Did she walk all the way here or just up the driveway?
I usually keep the gate at the end closed unless I’m expecting someone, so she’d have had to walk regardless.
I bet that pissed her off even more than she already was when she came to confront me.
I take a deep breath to keep myself from getting worked up before she gets all the way to me. I’ve managed to keep my shitty words and angry outbursts hidden from Finn, but I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to hold my tongue if she’s got a full head of steam.
The woman makes good time. Her anger is likely giving her a speed boost, which oddly makes me want to laugh.
I don’t think she’d appreciate me smirking at her when she’s already pissed at whatever imaginary thing I’ve done this time.
I’ve practically been a Boy Scout these past few weeks, given how we started.
She’s still got a ways to go before she makes it all the way to where I’m splitting wood, so I decide to pop another log onto the stump. I figure if I can expel any lingering frustrations before she gets here, I might keep a cooler head.
The guys would be so proud of me right now.
I manage to split this last log before Farrah finally makes it all the way up to the house.
She’s breathing hard by the time she gets here, her face red from the exertion. “Why the heck is your driveway so dang long?”
Farrah drops her palms to her knees while she tries to catch her breath.
I am not looking at her ass.
She’s got a great one though.
“Miss Nelson!” Finn shouts, glee taking over his entire face.
Farrah’s anger melts in half a second. She squats down at the incoming missile that is my son, bracing herself when he wraps his little arms around her neck.
“I missed you,” Finn says.
“I missed you too, kiddo.” She pulls away and gives him a critical once-over. “Have you grown? I thought I told you that wasn’t allowed.”
Finn giggles. “I can’t help it. I eated all my veggies like Daddy tells me.”
Farrah looks at him in shock. “You did? Well, I suppose it’s okay then.”
“What are you doing here?” I interrupt, not liking the tightness pinching my chest.
“Finn, honey, would you mind heading inside for a bit? I need to talk to your dad.”
“Okay, Miss Nelson. But you’ll stay for dinner, right?”
My jaw drops at his invitation. He’s never invited anyone but Holt’s girls to have a meal with us.
Farrah smiles fondly at him, and for half a second, I think she’s about to accept. “That would be wonderful, sweetheart, but I have plans to eat with a friend tonight.”
“Oh.” Finn’s shoulders slump before he perks up again. “How about tomorrow?”
A laugh falls from her chest. “We’ll see, kiddo. I’ll see you again soon though, okay?”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Finn heads off inside the house, and we both stand there for a second, watching him go. Then her eyes narrow at me again. I’m caught up in the sparks flying out of her brown eyes and miss what she says at first.
“I can’t believe you’d do something so absurd. I don’t need your charity or pity. I’m fine without your help, okay?”
How is it possible for someone to look adorable while being this angry? And why the fuck am I even noticing that? She’s berating me for something I didn’t catch. I should be getting just as angry in response. That’s my normal mode when someone’s screaming at me.
“Are you even listening?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Not really. Did you know you look a little like Tinker Bell if she had brown hair?”
“Knox!” She growls.
Something shifts in my lower body that I am not prepared to name. “What?”
“Why did you tip me a hundred dollars today? It was completely inappropriate. I don’t need your handouts.”
I scoff. “Only you would be pissed about a big tip.” Knowing the likelihood of me saying something I’ll regret, I decide to do something with my hands in case she decides to keep yelling at me. I grab another log, plonking it onto the stump.
“I don’t like owing people.”
“Why the fuck would you owe me something after I tipped you?” With a swing, I jam my ax into the log. This one was a bit bigger than the others, so it takes a few more swings before it splits.
Farrah stares at me. Her big eyes are wide as she takes in my body as if she’s only just now realizing I’m not wearing a shirt.
I’m a big guy. I always have been, but my shoulders got wider and my chest got thicker as I got older.
The physical work it takes to run the ranch has kept me in shape, but I’m nothing like Holt or Gray when it comes to having chiseled muscles.
I’ve never cared what anyone thought about my body.
They can either take me as I am or fuck off.
But a part of me is holding my breath that Farrah’s expression doesn’t turn to disgust as she takes in my padded belly and fuzzy chest.
I have to look away from her before I can read anything in her gaze. Moving one of the halves of the log I just split back in front of me, I hack it into three chunks in rapid succession.
The movement snaps Farrah out of her daze. I refuse to read anything into that.
“No one tips that much without expecting something in return, Knox.”
Something in her tone makes me look at her. She’s slumped in on herself—made herself smaller for some unknown reason.
“Do you expect me to demand that you suck my cock or somethin’?” I have no idea where the thought came from, but something in her body language just isn’t adding up.
Farrah’s eyes widen, her cheeks turning bright red. She splutters. “N-no. I don’t—”
“Relax, Princess. I wouldn’t dare make you stoop to the lowly level of us peasants.”
Fire shoots out of her eyes, and I revel in her response. “You’re just being an ass now. Don’t tip me like that again.”
I make a sarcastic expression. “I promise to never deem you worthy of a good tip again.”
She rolls her eyes before turning on her toes to head toward the house.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“To say goodbye to Finn. He’d be sad if I left without telling him.”
I grit my teeth. Why does she have to be right? I dart to the back door, stopping her from going inside. “I’ll go get him.”
“What’s your deal? I can just pop my head in.”
I don’t know. For some reason, I don’t want her to go inside the house. The second she does, I’ll see her there every time I’m in the kitchen.
She stands at the back door, looking at me as if she’s waiting for me to give her permission to walk inside. I’m being batshit crazy, yet she’s not pushing my boundaries. For some reason, that eases the panic in my chest.
I blink at her and then slowly open the back door, standing out of the way to make it clear she can go inside.
Farrah narrows her eyes, like she’s trying to read my thoughts and figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. I’d love it if she could figure it out. Fuck knows I have no idea what’s happening to me.