There’s a moment, thick and real, stretching out between us.
“You’re not what I expected,” I say, voice barely above a breath.
Knox leans back, his expression softening in a way that makes my pulse skip.
“Neither are you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Knox
I’m soglad I suggested we get in the hot tub.
Especially seeing Josie like this.
Knees drawn up slightly, bare shoulders glistening under the softness of the deck lights. Steam curls around her, catching in her hair like it belongs there. Like she belongs here, curled into the corner of my hot tub, her eyes on mine, her fingers resting lightly on the edge between us.
She looks so at ease. So comfortable in a space I’ve never let anyone share.
And somehow, she makes it feel like she’s always been part of it.
I’m not used to this.
Not the quiet. Not the hum of the jets, the warmth of the water. Not the way Josie Dawson can sit three feet away from me, nearly naked, and still make me feel like this is the most intimate I’ve ever been with another person.
My fingers flex along the side of the tub. I clear my throat—something's stuck there.
“So, you really like the risotto?”
She turns her head toward me, wet lashes catching the light. “Of course I do. It’s beautiful. Feels like a hug and a secondchance all in one bowl. Now I know the back story, it’s even better.”
My chest tightens.
She says shit like that, simple and soft, and it lands like a sledgehammer. She doesn’t even flinch when she does it. Maybe she doesn’t realize what her words do to me.
Or maybe she does.
And she says them anyway.
I drag my gaze over her, take her in: knees brushing mine beneath the surface, collarbones bare, hair pulled back haphazardly like she didn’t mean to look this good butdamn, she does.
The firelight from the built-in stone pit flickers across her skin.
“Do you always talk like that?” I ask, voice lower than I mean. “Like you’re writing poetry by accident?”
She lifts a shoulder in a little shrug, but her cheeks flush a shade darker than the wine she poured earlier. “Only when I feel something.”
My pulse trips.
“Are you feeling something now?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
Her lips part. Her breath hitches, barely, but I feel it. Like the water between us shifted in a way I can’t help but like.
Then, “Yeah. I am.”
Fuck.
