Chapter 15
Knox
Sunday afternoon, beneath a slate sky, I line the rental car along the curb in front of the Wilkes household.
Rimming the archway above the front door, a string of multicolored Christmas lights that weren’t there last night glisten. On a ladder, Everly strains precariously. Her feet perch on the topmost safe step, but one shoe is raised, and she is most definitely considering going higher. The loose end of the light strand is coiled in one hand.
I shove the car into park and jog up the sidewalk, gripping the ladder with both hands. “You looking to spend the holidays in traction, Ev?”
She spins, teetering the ladder despite my grip. “Oh, hey, Knox.”
I shake my head. “‘Hey, Knox,’ she says.”
With a smile, she lowers her rump to the top step. “You’re early.”
“Funny you say so, because it feels to me like I got here just in time. This ladder isn’t set in concrete you know?”
She places the coil of lights in her lap. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Since she’s safely seated now and I’m here to make the catch should she tumble, I cross my arms over my chest and let my scowl do the talking. She was seconds and centimeters away from disaster.
“I can’t move the ladder any further because of the bushes.” Her grin turns adorably grumpy. “But I was being careful.”
“Don’t even try to tell me you weren’t about to get on that next step.” I raise my eyebrow. “I know what workplace carelessness looks like, lady.” My guys know the rules yet push them almost daily.
“Ugh. Spoil sport.” I swear she comes close to sticking out her tongue.
Having to stifle a chuckle, I gesture to the bare space above the gutter. “You want me to reach that corner for you?” I have a few inches on her.
A chilly breeze whips hair the shade of roasting chestnuts across her cheek. “I could do it, you know.”
“Sure you could—but who wants to spend a great football Sunday in the ER, am I right?”
She peels blowing threads of hair from her face. “Fine, but you’re bossy.”
“Takes one to know one…”
Everly mumbles her way down the ladder, and I climb up.
“I could do it if my arms were longer.”
“Coulda, woulda, shoulda.”
I chuckle at her snotty huff and relieve her of the light coil.
After hooking the last section in place, I hand her the pronged business end of the cord. She plugs it into a green extension cord, and voila. Backdropped against the wintry sky, the lights dance.
“My dad’s always been the one to hang the lights, but with him gone…” Her sentence drifts away on the breeze.
I step off the last rung and onto the sidewalk. I put the teasing behind us and soften my voice. “When did he pass?”
She whips around. “Oh my gosh, no! Dad didn’t die. He’s been working overseas and can’t make it home for Christmas.”
The words, so different than what I expected, digest in slow motion. “Oh. Wow. That is far less depressing than what I was thinking.”
She elbows my side. “Don’t bring me down like that, Knox.”
I scratch the back of my head, feeling like an idiot. “Um, sorry. My bad.”
