Chapter 10
Knox
Next day, I show up at Lexi’s studio with a bag at my side. She’s teaching a class—a small one, with only two other people on the mats. Her gaze flicks to me as I come in, but I sit down on a chair near the door and wait for her to finish. She ignores me, her hands pressed together between her breasts, and instructs her clients on how to carefully lift one leg and fold it, kinda like a flamingo. I don’t get the whole yoga thing, but I have to admit she looks graceful when she does it. After that pose, they move into another, lying on the floor, legs spread, and I’m half tempted to get down on one of the mats and see if I can’t do that move myself. Probably not. Least, not in jeans.
Eventually, they go to a pose that just looks like lyin’ on your back, and they stay like that for a good ten minutes. Kinda crazy. They pay Lexi for her to tell them to lie on their backs and breathe? Can’t anyone do that? But I guess I ain’t one to point that shit out. If this is how she makes her money, good for her.
But then class ends and the ladies put their shoes on and head out, and then it’s just me and Lexi. A slightly sweaty, disheveled Lexi, who’s wearin’ a sports bra and tight leggings that show off every inch of her taut little body. Now I’m gettin’ the appeal of yoga. She saunters over to me, lightly toweling off her neck and face. “Hello again. Back already?”
“Should I have given up?” I ask, getting to my feet. “Heard you liked a man that’s as difficult as you are.”
A reluctant smile touches her mouth. “You’re not wrong about that kind of thing. But seriously, Knox, you don’t have to do this—”
“Shh, I’m trying to figure out how to romance you.”
One dark eyebrow goes up. “Oh?”
“Yup. Tryin to figure out what makes you tick and all. See, it’s not just about the baby for me. I wanted more time with you before I even found out about that.”
Her mouth curves in a reluctant smile. “Because you couldn’t get enough of my charming personality?” Her voice is deadpan. “My joie de vivre?”
“Somethin’ like that.” I give her a challenging look and gesture at the bag at my side. “So I went home and sat down and tried to figure out what it is that might entice you to spend an evening with me. Thought, what does a girl that hates people want to do? And this is what I came up with.” I pull open the bag and offer it to her.
She pulls out the first item. “Clown masks?”
“Thought we’d stand on a street corner and scare children. I can even climb in a drain if it’ll turn you on.”
“While it does make me wet at the thought of horrifying youngsters like that, I’m also pretty sure it’s illegal, alas.” Lexi hands a mask back reluctantly. “Though I must say, giving people coulrophobia is pretty high on my bucket list.”
“I thought something like that might be. All right, then. Not clowns.” I pretend to consider for a moment. “What if I booked up all the slots for your studio for the rest of the day? It would be just me and you.”
“Mm-hmm. And how exactly am I supposed to grow my business if you buy up all my slots?”
“Are you trying to grow your business?”
She pinches her forefinger and her thumb together. “Teeny bit. I mean, you don’t see anyone trying to beat my door down to get in class right now, do you?”
I don’t. In fact, both times I’ve came by, her studio has been pretty empty. I kind of wondered why someone like Lexi—who isn’t a big fan of socializing—would be something as people-oriented as a teacher, but maybe there’s something about it I’m not getting. “Okay, so buying classes is a no.”
“It’s a no,” she agrees.
“What if I buy advertising for your business?”
“Then I’m a kept woman?”
And that’s a bad thing? I want to ask, but I can tell from her expression that she needs more than just a few dollars waved in her face to get her attention. I like that about her. If she were easy to bribe, I’d just buy her some shiny jewelry . . . but then again, if she were easy to bribe, she wouldn’t be my kinda girl anyhow.
“You’re forcing me to pull out the big guns,” I tell her, because I anticipated that she might be hard to please. I’ve thought a step ahead.
“Oh?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Do go on.”
I can tell she’s curious. It’s evident in the gleam in her eye. So I carefully take out my wallet and make a great show of unfolding a piece of paper and then hold it out to her.
“What’s this?” She takes the paper and scans it, glancing up at me.
“Tickets to a haunted house.”
Her face lights up, and the sight of the pleasure in her eyes is like a gut punch, it’s so powerful. I’m not sure what it’ll take to get her to look at me like that every day, but I’ll do it. There’s nothing more beautiful than Lexi Brandon when she’s really, truly happy.
“A haunted house? A real one?”
Then I realize I fucked up. Shit. “One of those ones they do for Halloween,” I say, not wanting to lie. I can already tell that’s the wrong answer.
“Oh.” The excitement goes out of her eyes and she folds the paper up again. “Are they at least devoted to their chain saw action? If someone’s going to piss themselves on the hayride because they’re so scared, I might be down.”
But I’m learnin’ her, and I know this isn’t quite what she had in mind. “You want to go to a real one?”
Lexi’s expression grows a little more guarded. “Can’t give away all my secrets, youngster.” She hands the folded paper back to me and then saunters away, her ass giving the cutest little shake as she does. She moves to a yoga mat at the front of the studio and begins to do stretches, like I’m not there. ’Cept I know that she’s well aware that I’m here, because those stretches are takin’ on a decidedly sexual nature. As I watch, she puts her back to me, leans forward, and then places her palms on the floor next to her feet. It puts that gorgeous ass up in the air, just taunting me.
Now she’s not playin’ fair. All right, then. If she wants to play like that, game on.
With a grin, I take one last salivating look at her butt and then head out to form my new plan.
Lexi
I wait until Knox is gone before I finish my stretches. My entire body is throbbing with awareness of his presence, even after his truck pulls out of the parking lot. He wants to date me. Doesn’t want to just throw money my way because of the baby. He is interested in me.
I’m torn. Part of me is thrilled deep down in my belly that he’s pursuing me, and that he’s thinking hard about what I like. I’m not used to that. Most guys that I’ve dated in the past thought they’d try to change me or make me more to their liking. I can’t count how many men I’ve dated who asked if I’d wear something a little “brighter” on a future date, or if I’d smile more. Either comment ended the relationship right away.
Knox is something different, though, and part of me is worried that no good will come of this. I’m not good with relationships. I’m shit at picking out men. Look at Keith. Look at my ex Jonas. Whatever it is that’s wrong with those men, I somehow call it to me. I worry that there’s going to be a hidden awfulness somewhere inside of Knox and I just haven’t uncovered it yet. So far he just seems to be exactly what he is . . . a watchful, sharp-eyed man who has the same wicked sense of humor that I do.
Oh god, please let that be all that he is. I touch my stomach as I straighten. Let my baby have a good dad. Let me have a chance with a guy that’s wonderfully, achingly fantastic and not a crazy, overpossessive lunatic.
The door to the studio clangs open, and I whip around with a coy little smile on my face, ready to give Knox a little hell for returning so quickly. Could he just not stay away? Is he coming back to offer something new? I have to admit, I’m looking forward to seeing where his mind goes next.
But it’s not Knox. The person that strolls in is tall and clean-shaven, and wearing a black shirt emblazoned with LUKA FIRE DEPT over the breast.
Fuck. It’s Keith. I immediately freeze, the smile on my face disappearing. “What do you want?”
“Well, for starters, I’d like to know who that guy is that just left.”
I try to think of something, but nothing comes to mind. “Investor,” I say after a long moment, hating how stupid of a response it is. “He’s thinking about opening a chain and wanted to see if I’d sell out to him.” I kneel to the floor and start to roll up one of the colorful mats on the ground. “Don’t see why it’s any of your business, though.”
Keith strolls forward, his heavy work boots clomping on my polished wooden floors. “Everything you do is my business, Lexi.”
That makes me angry. I sit back on my haunches and glare up at him. “No, it isn’t. We’re not dating. I don’t work with you. We’re not partners. We—”
“Everything,” he snarls, and I go silent at the fury in his tone. My stomach turns over. “I’m being patient with you, Lexi, because I know you like to have your way, but I’m making it very clear right now. You belong to me. Understand? So if you’re fucking around with that guy, you need to think carefully about how you want to proceed.”
I stare at him, horrified. Is . . . is that a threat? “I don’t belong to you—”
“Don’t test me, Lexi. You wouldn’t like it if I was angry.” His expression is furious, and it sends a cold chill through me. “I don’t care if that guy’s a business partner or not. I saw the way you were looking at him.”
“You were spying on me?”
He ignores that question, moving toward my checkout counter and picks up the small stone Buddha I have sitting at the end of the counter. “I watch over you because you’re mine,” he says in that same presumptuous tone. “And I don’t like what I’m seeing, frankly. I think you’re leading me on, and you’re making that guy think that you’re interested in him when all you want is his wallet so he can put some money into this shitty little dance studio of yours. Am I right?”
“No,” I say flatly. “All of it’s wrong, dickface. I don’t like him.”
“I saw you smile at him.” His jaw clenches.
“It’s called being friendly to a stranger. You should try it sometime. I hear it’s effective.”
He flings the stone Buddha against the wall, and it crashes into the drywall, punching a hole and making a sound like a gunshot. I instinctively flinch, my arms going around my head. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, Lexi! I know you went to lunch with him.”
My mouth goes dry and I remain perfectly still, trying not to imagine what he’d do if he grabbed my arm right about now. “I’m not lying,” I say slowly. Thanks for selling me out, Laura. “And your temper is terrible. You need to calm the fuck down.”
I can’t show him how scared I am. How I’m about to break down in tears because he’s freaking me out.
“Am I? Because I thought I was just a guy looking after his woman. You tell that other man he needs to fuck off, or he’s going to drive me to do something drastic. Understand?”
“Don’t you have a fire somewhere you can put out?” I ask, keeping my tone dry and unafraid. “Or a kitten to rescue from a tree? Or a donut you should be eating?” Okay, that’s more for cops, but whatever. I just want him gone. Please, please leave.
Keith stares at me for a long moment, the crazed look in his eyes pinning me to my spot on the floor, the half-rolled mat in my arms. He exhales slowly. “Look what your flirting drove me to.” He shakes his head, and a half chuckle escapes him. “You’re just working my temper, aren’t you?”
“I’m really not—”
“You must get turned on when a guy gets all possessive,” Keith continues, smiling.
“Still no—”
But it looks like the rage explosion has come and gone. He moves over to the wall, where a fist-size hole has been punched in the Sheetrock and my poor Buddha lies in two pieces on the ground. He picks it up and tries to put the head back on. “I’ll come by and fix your wall tomorrow.”
“I’d prefer that you not,” I tell him, and clutch the mat against my chest so hard I worry it’s going to leave a waffle print on my skin. “Just leave me alone, Keith.”
“This is what happens when you tease a man,” he says with a little shake of his head. He pockets the Buddha head and holds on to the rest of it. “I’ll glue this back together for you, too, Lexi.”
“Keith, please. Just go away.”
He turns to look at me and then begins to stride my way. I lock every muscle in my body, my shoulders stiff, afraid that I’m going to start screaming bloody murder if he touches me. Please, god, please don’t—
But he only squats on his haunches next to where I’m sitting. “Lexi, I’m sorry I lost my temper. You know I have feelings for you. I just get jealous. Do you forgive me?”
“No.”
He chuckles and reaches out to touch my hair. “Tease. We both know that you’re just saying that.” When I jerk away, his smile grows a little tight and he gets to his feet and strolls away, whistling. He moves to the door, and then holds the Buddha up again. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to fix this. Then we should talk about you and me and where this is going.”
“This isn’t going anywhere,” I call out in a shaky voice, but it’s too late. He’s slipping out the door and into the parking lot.
I gaze at the hole in my wall and try not to tremble. I fail miserably, too. That’s the most violent Keith has ever gotten. Normally he’s just pushy and watches me far too much. This time . . . this time he’s really scared me.
I wait several minutes to make sure that he’s gone, then I get up and grab my keys and purse from my counter. I head out of the studio and flip the BACK SOON sign on the door. I get in my car and drive two blocks over to the police station.
Clutching my purse, I take a deep breath and approach the counter, where an elderly man is seated. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“I need to file a harassment report,” I tell him. “And property damage.”
The man’s bushy gray brows go up. “That so?”
I nod, doing my best not to break down and cry. I hate crying. Hate it so much. It’s a sign of weakness, and I refuse to be weak. But the tears are threatening, just behind my eyes, and waiting for the right moment to emerge and make me lose my shit. “Yes. A guy I know came into my studio and knocked a hole in the wall and threatened me. I want to get a restraining order, too, if possible.”
He picks up a pen and glances at me again. “Name?”
“Keith Lawrence.”
The man immediately sets down the pen and gives me an impatient look. “You’re Keith’s girlfriend, aren’t you? The weird one with the dance studio?”
“Actually it’s yoga, and I’m not his girlfriend.”
“He was just by here earlier today, actually. Bragging about you.” His eyes narrow at me. “You sure this isn’t just a lovers’ quarrel?”
Why is it that every time I get to the police station to ask them to do something about Keith, I get the feeling he’s already been by and talked to people? I hate that this town is small enough that all the firefighters and police are friends, because they all take his side and not mine. “We’re not dating. It’s not a lovers’ quarrel. He’s harassing me.”
His gaze flicks over my sports bra and leggings. “You think maybe you’re leading him on with the way you dress?”
Oh my god, I give up. Every time I come to the police station, I get stonewalled and insulted. I clench my keys in my hand and shove my way back out of the station, angry and frustrated and scared. This time, when I get in my car, I can’t stop the tears.
I don’t know what to do. Get up and leave everything I’ve built here? Move across the country again? I don’t have the money.
But how can I stay here? No one will help me against Keith. No one will protect me.
Except Knox, of course. I know he’d step in and try to help me against Keith . . . but I worry that something bad would happen if he did. It’s not exactly fair when the entire police force is on the wrong guy’s side.
I feel helpless and alone.
Knox
I show up the next day at the same time, ready to enact my battle plan.
I have flowers in one hand—black roses, because I know Lexi likes black—and an envelope with a printed hotel reservation in the other. I’m wearing a black T-shirt and unripped jeans, and I even trimmed my beard a bit. As other guys would fancy up for a date, it ain’t much, but for me, it’s a lot. I’m here to impress Lexi, though. Not with the money I’m throwin’ around, but with my thoughtfulness. I think this time I hit the nail on the head in regards to what she wants. If I didn’t, well, I’ll just try again. I ain’t givin’ up on her or on the idea that she’s mine.
I’m just gonna have to work a little harder to make her see it.
When I enter the small yoga studio, though, something feels off. It’s hard not to miss the fact that there’s a fist-size hole punched in one wall. The studio’s empty, too, and the weird, supposed-to-be-soothing music seems to echo more than relax. There’s a distinctly weird vibe to the place today, and it’s even more apparent when I approach the front desk and see Lexi wearing a long black T-shirt over baggy track pants instead of her usual figure-hugging workout wear. She pays no attention to me as I approach, seated on a stool behind the counter and flipping through an athletic-wear catalog.
I hold out the flowers. “Hello again.”
She barely glances up. “Black roses. Much original. So wow.”
I’m not put off by her tone. “Well, I thought bringing in dead ones might be a bit too Morticia Addams, even for you. And yeah, I think roses are a nice touch. They add a bit of funereal ambiance to this place.”
That makes her look up. Her reluctant smile begins to show. “Such big words. I’m impressed, hillbilly youngster.”
I make a mocking bow. “I live to impress you.”
“That you do.” Her focus changes and for a moment, she stares hard at the street outside the shop. “Do you hear a fire truck?”
I tilt my head, listening. Sure enough, there is one, but it’s distant. “Yeah, but it’s not close.”
“But it’s definitely a truck, right?”
At my mystified nod, she seems to relax. Huh. I notice that her counter seems oddly bare compared to the last time I was here. I rack my brain, trying to recall what she had up there before. Ah, right, a stone Buddha. I almost pocketed it because I wanted something of hers. “Your Buddha’s gone,” I comment.
“I didn’t like the vibe he was giving off,” she says, and turns pointedly back to her catalog. “Don’t you have someplace you should go?”
“Yes, actually, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. I know it’s a busy day, but I was wondering if you could fight back the crowds and steal away for a while.”
Her mouth twitches and she looks up at me again with a bit of a challenge on her face. “You don’t think they’re flocking in thanks to my winning personality?”
“I think it’s winning,” I tell her, touching my chest. “Others might not have such cultured tastes.”
“That might be an insult, coming from a hillbilly,” Lexi replies. “But I’ll take it.”
I hold the envelope out to her. “For you.”
She doesn’t take it. “What’s this?”
I wiggle the envelope at her. “Another chance at impressing you, of course.”
“Oooh.” She takes the envelope and runs the edge underneath her nose without opening it, pretending to smell it. “Is it a personalized mortuary tour? I’m a fan of embalming.”
Her words make me think of Seth, but instead of the stab of pain I normally feel, there’s only a raw ache. “Nothing like that, I’m afraid.”
It must show on my face what I’m thinking about because her expression gentles. “I’m an asshole. Feel free to tell me to fuck off. That wasn’t cool of me.”
“You didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I do have to admit that most of my humor is macabre.”
“From a girl that wears all black? I’m shocked.” I shake my head and lean across the desk. “Though how someone like you ended up buddies with Natalie Weston, I don’t know. She’s very cardigans and cupcakes. You two don’t seem a match.”
“She’s just as lonely and out of touch with this town as I am.” Lexi shrugs and considers the envelope, then hands it back to me, unopened. “And I probably shouldn’t even look, because I might want it, and then it’ll be even more difficult to turn you down.”
And now I’m frustrated. “Is it me?” When she shakes her head, I consider the envelope before taking it back from her. “The timing?”
“The timing isn’t great,” she admits, and there’s a rather sad look in her eyes. In fact, all of her looks a little . . . defeated today. That’s not like my Lexi. I’m not sure what happened, but it’s like something’s sucked all the wind out of her sails, and it makes me even more determined to win her over. I want to know what’s gone wrong so I can fix it.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nah. I’m fine.” But she doesn’t have that mischievous light in her eyes that she normally does, and that worries me.
“Is it the renovations?” I ask. Because that hole in the wall has to be there for a reason.
Her brows furrow and she gives me a confused look, and then realization dawns. “Oh no, not that. That was an accident. A client of mine had a bad misstep and ran into the wall.”
She says it so smoothly I wonder if she realizes I can tell she’s lying? It’s in the way she won’t look me in the eye, or the way she won’t look over at the spot on the wall. She’s a little too glib about it.
Whatever it is that’s bothering her, though, it’s clear that Lexi doesn’t want to talk about it, and she’s not going to let me sway her. Time to turn up the heat a little. “So you don’t want the reservations, then?”
“Reservations?” Her head perks up.
“Yeah. Thought maybe if you weren’t doing much that you might want to get away. I’ll of course, compensate you for any classes you might have to reschedule if that’s going to be a problem.”
Lexi looks torn. “Much as I would love to get away right about now—and god, you have no idea how much—I really can’t. I’m sorry, Knox. It’s really sweet of you to come here and keep trying, but I shouldn’t—”
“You don’t even know where the reservations are for.”
Her wistful expression deepens. “It really doesn’t matter. I can’t go.”
“If money’s a factor—”
“Money’s always a factor, my friend.”
“Like I said, I can make up the difference of what you’d make in your classes. I just want you to spend some time with me. Get to know you better. Hear more about how the pregnancy is going.” It’s true, too. If she goes with me and all she wants to do is tell me about morning sickness and isn’t interested in touching, I’ll be fine with that, just as long as I get to spend time with her. For some reason, with Lexi, it’s not just about the physical—though I have to admit, the physical is pretty damned amazing. It’s that I love her personality. I love that dark mischief in her, the way she constantly tries to make the people around her uncomfortable. In a way, she’s like me. I steal things and sabotage to see if people are paying attention. With her flat voice and gothic demeanor, Lexi makes sure they pay attention.
She’s perfect, and I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.
Again she hesitates, but then shakes her head, declining once more. “I really can’t, Knox. I’m sorry. When I say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ I actually mean that.”
I refuse to be deterred. I study the envelope thoughtfully. “If that’s how it is, I guess that’s how it is. I’ll just call the owner over at the Old Pearson and tell him me and my friend won’t be making it after all—”
Her eyes go wide and she reaches over the desk and snatches the envelope out of my hands. “The Old Pearson? The Old Pearson? The one in Galveston?” She tears it open with shaking fingers.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” I’m secretly thrilled my present’s gettin’ such a reaction. I don’t know much about it, myself. I just Googled “most haunted hotels in Texas” and started callin’, askin’ for rooms. “Like I said, thought you might want to get away.”
She rips the printed confirmation out of the envelope and scans it, then groans and half collapses back onto her stool. “You rented out the entire fourteenth floor?”
“The owner told me that’s the most haunted one, yeah.”
“It is. That’s the floor where Bloody Louise shows up on full moons and where people hear ghost children moving up and down the hallway at night.” Her gaze fixes on me. “It’s legendary for its creepiness.”
“Do you promise to hold my hand if I get scared?” I say, using my best flirty voice. Ghosts ’n’ shit don’t scare me. Hell, I’d give anything to see my little brother Seth again, ghost or not. But if this is what rings Lexi’s bell, I’m game for it. I’ll hunt down every creepy place in Texas if that’s what it takes to get her back in my arms again.
The smile that curves her mouth is equally flirty, equally wicked. For a moment, she looks like she’s inches away from leaping across the counter again, and this time to tackle me. The hot stare she’s givin’ me promises so much that my own heart trips with anticipation . . .
And then just as quickly, her smile fades again. She looks down at the paper, and then carefully folds it back up once more. “I wish I could, Knox.”
Fuck. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Lexi. I can help.”
“You mean other than being pregnant?” One of those dark eyebrows arches. “Nothing’s wrong. The timing’s just shitty. Otherwise I’d love to go.”
That’s such a nonanswer that I cross my arms over my chest and let my stubbornness take over. “So you’re not going to tell me what’s really going on? Maybe I’ll just stick around here this afternoon until you wear down and tell me what the deal is.”
To my surprise, her face goes pale. She jerks up and looks at me with such terror that I’m stunned. What the fuck did I say to instill that sort of response in her? But just as quickly as the terror crossed her face, it’s gone. “You know what? I changed my mind. I’ll go. On one condition.”
Her sudden capitulation makes me suspicious. “Name it.”
She grabs her purse and flashes a brilliant smile at me. “That we go right fucking now.”
“Right now?” I can’t help but think this sounds too good to be true. Something’s up.
“Yep. Let’s just go.” She snags her keys and moves to the door and flips the CLOSED sign over, then opens the door and stands in it, waiting for me to get out of the studio. “Right now.”
“You . . . wanna go by your apartment and pick up some clothes or somethin’? I don’t know what one wears to a ghost hunt.”
“Whatever one wants. The ghosts aren’t critical of fashion.”
“Wasn’t talkin’ about the ghosts, Lexi. Don’t you want pajamas or a change of clothes or . . . I dunno, whatever chicks bring in their purses? Makeup? Tampons?”
She reaches out and pinches my cheek. “God, you’re adorable. I’m going to ignore that tampon comment. You do remember you got me pregnant, right?”
And then I can feel heat on my cheeks, because that was kinda stupid of me. I step out of the studio and into the parking lot, then turn and wait for her. “Right. That was dumb. To be fair, you’re the first woman I’ve ever gotten pregnant.”
“For some reason, I’m ridiculously happy to hear that,” she says drily, and closes the door behind me.
Lexi
This might be stupid, but I don’t care. I need to get away for a weekend. I’m sure Keith is going to lose his shit, but there’s a window and I’m taking it.
Here I was all tense that Knox showed up again, imagining how Keith would freak the fuck out and punch more holes in my wall . . . and then that fire truck raced past. I know he’s on it, since he’s on duty every weekday. That means I’m fucking free for a short period of time thanks to someone else’s miserable luck. That means he won’t know that Knox showed up, looking scrumptious and waving a weekend at a haunted hotel under my nose.
The entire fourteenth floor. Good god, the man knows how to woo a woman. I’m practically ready to shuck my panties just thinking about it. The fire truck was a sign. If Keith’s not going to know Knox was here, it’s the perfect time for me to get away. Keith’s been oppressive lately, so this is the chance I need to clear my head and think.
And, okay, there’s a haunted hotel thrown in.
And, okay . . . there’s a really hot fucking guy that eats pussy like there’s no tomorrow and he’s giving me steamy looks and I’m super knocked up and super full of randy hormones that want me to get laid. All of that’s a factor.
But really, it’s harder and harder for me to resist Knox, because I don’t want to. I love his determination, and the way he’s really trying to go out of his way to figure out what I need. I love that he wants to focus on me instead of just the baby right now. It makes me feel like I’m more to him than just a walking womb, and I appreciate that.
I don’t know what I’ll do with that thought, but it’s nice anyhow.
I didn’t bring any clothes, though. He suggested going back to my place, and I did briefly consider it, but someone in my building is bound to be spying for Keith. Everyone loves him and just thinks I’m weird. No one in this shitty little town is on my side. Nat was, but she moved away. I’ve felt very, very alone lately, and with Keith being oppressive, it’s just gotten worse and worse. The only times I don’t feel alone? When Knox is around.
I glance over at him in the cab of the truck. He’s all cocky confidence, sprawled in the front seat, his window down and one arm resting on the door. He’s got a toothpick between his teeth and gives it a little turn with his tongue every now and then. Not that I’m paying attention. But he looks older than his twenty-three years. And in personality? He’s as cynical as I am.
Of course, I can’t say those sorts of things to him. He’ll wonder why I’m studying him so very intently, and then it’ll get awkward. Well, even more awkward because just his nearness is making me squirmy with arousal. Thanks, pregnancy hormones. Like I needed soaked panties for a ghost-hunting trip.
I feel that heated flush move over my body when he immediately looks over at me. He’s paying attention to me despite keeping his focus on the road, so attuned that he notices the moment I glance over. Why is that so sexy? God, I am such a mess around him. “How come it’s so quiet? You don’t listen to the radio when you drive?”
Knox chuckles, his attention moving back to the road. He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “Music’s nice and all, but I’ve noticed that when you have it blaring, you miss a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“People’s cues, mostly. When it’s silent, I can pay a lot more attention to the person next to me and how they react during a conversation. People are way more interesting than songs, least to me.”
Huh. That makes sense in a strange sort of way. I’ve noticed Knox definitely studies people and files information away as if he’s writing a thesis on what makes them tick. He’s the most alert, watchful person I’ve ever met. I wonder what secrets of mine he’s picked up.
I’m not sure I want to know. “You feel the same way about phones? I’ve noticed you don’t text me. You just show up.” I make a flourish, as if gesturing to a door. “You just waltz right in without checking to see what my schedule looks like, or if I’m even there that day. A text or a phone call saves you a lot of trouble, you know.”
Knox looks over at me again, impressed. “You’ve been studying me, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘studying.’”
“I would.” He winks at me. “But that’s all right, I won’t give ya shit about it. To be honest, I hate texting more than I hate phone calls. I do ’em sometimes because my brothers love to text all damn day long. But I’d rather talk to someone in person, see their face, read their body language. It tells me a hell of a lot more than those emotee things.”
Emotee? The fuck? “You mean emoji?”
“Whatever.”
“Oh my god, that’s so cute. A millennial that doesn’t know what an emoji is. Are you sure you’re not an eighty-year-old with a really great skin regimen instead of a twenty-three-year-old?” I reach over to pinch his bearded cheek, and he half swats my hand away. Just the brush of my fingertips against his skin fills me with an insane amount of lust. Man, I have got it bad for this guy. What is wrong with me? I’m used to being on my own, being independent. I haven’t wanted or needed anyone in forever, but the moment Knox is around, my body seems to be making up for lost time.
It’s a little ridiculous and a lot unfair.
“I think what I’m hearin’,” Knox says slowly, unaware (or maybe too aware) of my sexual frustration, “is that you want me to text you more often.”
“I’m not saying shred my phone bill with texts or anything like that. I’m just saying that if you’re going to drop by, maybe you text me first so I know to expect you.” And so I can make sure that Keith is nowhere around to freak out.
“I aim to please.”
I can’t resist the response that immediately comes to mind. I pat my stomach. “Seems to me like your aim is pretty good so far.”
His laughter fills the truck and makes me feel far too good.
The Old Pearson is everything a paranormal enthusiast could ever hope to want in a hotel. It’s a massive old building downtown, made of red brick and with rounded white brickwork over some of the windows that reminds me of cake frosting. It looks cheery and old-fashioned from the outside despite the fact that it’s growing dark, which is fascinating. It’s almost like it’s unaware that it’s such a hotbed for paranormal activity. There’s a massive archway entrance to the hotel that reminds me of a church more than anything else, and it goes straight up like a skyscraper for sixteen floors. There’s a neon hotel sign up front, and it’s a fascinating mix of old and new. I give an appreciative shiver at the sight of it. “I can’t believe you booked rooms here.”
“Wasn’t easy,” he murmurs, moving to my side as we gaze up at the building from the parking lot. “Apparently the fourteenth floor is under renovation and the owner didn’t want to rent it out until I threw some serious money his way.”
“Should I ask how much money is serious money?”
“Nope, you shouldn’t. Doesn’t affect things one way or another, and I’m rich.” He crooks his arm, indicating I should slip my hand in the space at his elbow. “Shall we?”
“Oh yes, we definitely shall.”
As we check in, I can’t help but notice how much the front desk girl fawns over Knox. He’s not dressed like a bajillionaire in the slightest. His jeans are worn as hell and not in the designer way. The T-shirt he’s wearing is plain, and he’s still got that scruffy beard and hair that’s a little too long under his trucker cap. He looks like he just came into town on a big rig. I mean, he’s ridiculously handsome, of course, but she’s acting like he’s a fucking celebrity with the way she’s fawning over him and giggling at everything he says, which suggests to me that she’s done a little Google-fu of her own. She’s closer to his age than I am, and perky and cute, with blonde highlights that sweep into a light pink, and a bubbly personality to match the cupcake-cute hair.
I hate her on sight.
Knox smiles at her flirting but doesn’t encourage her, which is good. That means I don’t have to murder him. She hands him a business card and flutters her lashes at him, and I almost reach across the desk to slap her around. I don’t know why I care so much, but when he gets the envelope with the electronic keys and then turns to me, putting a hand at the small of my back, I practically melt into a puddle. Take that, flirt. He’s with me.
So much for my not wanting him. All it takes is one barely-out-of-high-school twit and I’m suddenly snarling and ready to claw someone’s eyes out. I wonder if I can blame that on pregnancy hormones, too?
“Ready to do this?” he asks, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm.
“Born ready,” I reassure him. “From what I’ve read online, all the good shit happens after midnight, but we can do a little reconnaissance first.”
“Lead the way.”
I do, hating myself a little for wishing that his hand would slide a little lower and caress my butt. Not too much, just enough for Pinky McGiggles back at the front desk to realize he’s not interested in her.
The elevator is empty as we head up, and Knox is just as quiet as I am. After a moment, I glance over at him. “That card had her phone number on it, didn’t it?”
Knox grins at me, his expression knowing, and I get a little weak in the knees at just how gorgeous he is. “Yup. You want it?”
“I do. I intend on prank calling her on a regular basis for the near future, just to make her regret that action.”
“So fierce. I love that in a woman,” he murmurs, handing the card over to me.
I reach into my black T-shirt and tuck it into my sports bra, since I don’t have any pockets on my workout clothing. I want to tease him back about not getting a swelled head, but he’s giving me this possessive look of approval that’s making me melt, and I realize the conversation could head in a direction that would be very bad for my independence. If he challenges me on my jealous streak, what happens then? Is he going to believe me when I say it’s nothing? I’m not even sure I believe me. Time to change the subject and deflect. “Have you ever ghost hunted before?”
“Me? Naw.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
He shrugs. “Think I’d like to. It’d be proof there’s something after death, y’know?”
I go silent, aching for him. His brother’s death is still too near, and I imagine that’s on his mind. Poor Knox. Maybe this was a bad idea and I’m an asshole for going through with this. After all, it was my hints about haunted houses that made him do this. Maybe I should have hinted about a love for steak or something along those lines. “Well, most people that have visited this hotel haven’t seen a full-body apparition of a ghost. It’s subtle things, like noises in empty rooms, lights turning on when no one’s home, and cold spots.”
“Cold spots? In an old, air-conditioned hotel? You don’t say.”
Now I can’t help but grin because he sounds just like me. “That’s right. People take pictures, too, and they see orbs and shadows where nothing was supposedly there.”
“Okay, then.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket.
I giggle at the sight of it. The screen is a spider web of cracks, and I swear to god, one side is duct-taped. “That’s your phone?”
He shrugs. “Yeah. It works fine.”
“You do realize you’re rich, don’t you?”
“You do realize it’s a perfectly good phone?”
“A cheap rich man. Never thought I’d see the day,” I drawl. “Pinky McGiggles down at the front desk would be so disappointed.”
He laughs and gives me another scorching look as the elevator dings our arrival. “It’s good for her that I have zero interest in her type, then.”
I know what his type is, and my heart skips a little beat. He likes girls that wear all black and give him shit. Girls like me. Oh god, I desperately want to have sex tonight, even though it’s such a bad call. Sex leads to relationships and connections, and I told Knox I’m not interested. I shouldn’t be. The last thing I need is a confrontation between Knox and Keith. Or another man in my life that thinks he owns me.
I give him a polite, tight little smile and rush out of the elevator as the doors open. As confused as I am about what’s going on between Knox and myself, the fourteenth floor provides the perfect creepy vibe to distract me. Plastic sheeting and ladders scatter the hallway, and at the far end, I can see part of the ceiling has been removed. Wires hang down, and the decorative old-fashioned chandeliers have been denuded of everything but the light bulbs. A door is open at the far end of the hall, boxes parked in the entryway to keep it open, and behind us, the hall is half painted.
“God, this is sexy,” I whisper. It’s bringing all my ghost hunting dreams to life.
“Is this more what you had in mind?” he asks me.
I nod, overwhelmed. I’m both humbled and utterly pleased that he went to so much trouble to impress me. Galveston is a few hours’ drive from Luka, and I know he lives a few hours away to boot. Couple that with how much money he must have spent to rent the entire floor—and how much wheeling and dealing to get them to let us stay here when it’s under construction—and I feel suspiciously weepy. I’m sure that’s the hormones talking, but I don’t think anyone’s ever gone to such lengths to make me happy.
“Let’s pick a room to sit in, shall we? I watched one of them ghost-huntin’ shows last night to see what we need to do. Apparently we sit in the dark and yell insults to dead people to try to get ’em to do something.”
I laugh. “We don’t have to sit in the dark.”
“Unless we want to, of course.” And he gives me the sexiest look. My heart does a little flip at the thought of sitting in the dark, alone, with Knox. Suddenly the ghosts seem secondary to just spending time with him. How wonderful is that? What’s this sensation moving through me?
Am I . . . happy? Ugh. I’m going to start giggling like the girl at the front desk soon if I don’t watch myself.