Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Now who’s making excuses?” I pulled him to me, which was about as successful as moving a highway pylon. “No. Not because you work magic on the remodel. Because you’ve listened to me go round and round on the Stapleton case. Because you keep sneaking blue paint into this house. Because sometimes I see you looking at me and…” My voice cracked for the first time in twenty-odd years. “Because you’re Knox. That’s all.”
“Wow.” He sagged against me, losing the stiffness but keeping the trepidation in his tone. “I’m…scared.”
“Me too. Terrified, really.” I’d never said the words before, never expected them to feel so damn right, and hell if I knew what happened next.
“I know this is where I’m supposed to say it back—”
I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no supposed to or should between us. You don’t have to say anything. Or feel anything for that matter.” That I loved him was a given. That he might return the sentiment was a whole different matter, and the last thing I wanted to do was put pressure on him.
“I feel…so damn much, Monroe.” He sounded distraught, and I understood where he was coming from. Not all these new emotions were pleasant. I kissed the side of his head. “I don’t have words, but…”
“It’s okay.” I pushed aside any disappointment to hold him closer, reveling in his warm skin and nearness. He hadn’t pulled away yet. That had to count for something. “And this doesn’t have to change anything.”
“No?” Mouth twisting, he scooted back, taking all that warmth with him. “Are we going to pretend you didn’t say that? Because from where I’m sitting, everything changes. You can’t just detonate a feelings bomb in the middle of our nice, uncomplicated summer fling.”
I gave a rough laugh at his choice of imagery. “I think you know nothing’s been simple or uncomplicated from the start.”
“Nope.” His shoulders slumped, elbows resting on his knees. “This is gonna hurt like hell. And I hate that for you. For me. For us. I never wanted to hurt either of us, but you especially.”
“Maybe I’d rather have the hurt than never have had you.” And there was another sentence I’d never expected to say. I’d spent decades doing everything in my power to avoid entanglements and hurt. But never knowing Knox was unthinkable, and if hurt was the price to pay, so be it. He offered me a sad, sentimental smile, a ghost of his usual brightness, like the moon…
The moon. Knox in the moonlight was one of my favorite things, whether on the roof here or on that balcony in San Francisco, and a thought that had plagued me for a few weeks now crept back to the front of my mind.
“But what if it doesn’t have to hurt?”
“What are you thinking?” he whispered like he both expected my idea to be outlandish but was also praying for it to be good.
“There are architecture programs in the Bay. Maybe not quite as highly ranked as the one you got into, but good ones. And you liked our trip to the city. You could be happy there. You’ve been debating between here and the East Coast all summer, but what if there’s another option? You could come back to the Portland area often. It’s a quick flight. You could see the kids as much as you’d like.” The more I talked, the more I warmed to the idea, but the more Knox frowned.
“And maybe you don’t know me at all.”
“Knox.” I made a pained noise. “I know. You’re tempted by taking over the repair business. But isn’t this other option worth thinking about? You could at least get the degree, decide what to do later as far as how you want to use it.”
“Later.” His voice sounded crackly like a radio coming in from a distance. “I need to think.” Standing, he dodged my attempts to reach for him. “I’m gonna shower.”
“Okay.” My voice was small. Buck up. It could be worse. All my father’s meaningless platitudes came filtering back. I wouldn’t beg and wasn’t going to burden him with how much his walking away hurt.
But somehow, like always, Knox seemed to know. Turning, he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezed hard. “I’m not saying no.”
Unable to speak, I nodded. The issue wasn’t his words but rather everything he wasn’t saying.
“Give me time?” He rubbed my shoulder when I nodded again, then kissed the top of my head. “Thank you.”
“Jesus.” I made a barky noise. “Don’t thank me for making everything harder.”
“You didn’t.” He said it like a promise, but I knew better.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Knox
I thought.
I thought about Monroe, about what he’d said, what I hadn’t said, the major life change he’d proposed, and what in the heck I was supposed to do now.