“Beautiful,” he says simply, taking my hand in his and towing me back into the bedroom. Lifting me off my feet, he places me on the end of the bed and strides over to the closet, reappearing moments later in black jeans and a white T-shirt that clings to his huge biceps.
The moment he’s close enough, he reaches for my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine and carefully tugging me off the bed. “Let’s go.”
His hold is firm, but not tight enough to hurt, as he leads me downstairs and into the garage. I pause by the SUV, but instead of stopping, he keeps walking until we reach a huge black machine on wheels.
“What is this?” I gasp.
“An ATV,” Knight says, letting go of my hand for long enough to scoop me into his arms. Placing me in the passenger seat, he climbs into the driver’s side. “I’ll help,” he growls, pushing my hands away as he fastens me into the harness, running the side of his finger over my nipples as he checks the straps are tight enough, but not too tight.
I’m starting to notice a pattern to Knight’s “help” with picking clothes, bathing me, doing my hair, strapping me into cars, airplanes, and now this ATV. His help is always a caregiving action, and although I’m not ready to say it out loud, I like him wanting to take care of me.
It’s been six years since I lost my mom, but it feels like I’ve been alone for much longer. My brother, Denton, moved to Australia when I was thirteen, but even though he has a life and a family over there, I think a part of me thought he’d come home when Mom got sick. But he didn’t. I called him when the doctors said it was almost the end, and he spoke to her over video chat, but he never offered to help. He never asked me if I was okay or how I was coping. He flew in for the funeral, asked me to send him his half of the money from her estate, then flew home two days later.
I’m not a child. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, but having Knight want to look after me makes me feel a little gooey. Once he’s satisfied that I’m secured, he starts the engine, and the vibrations make me feel a little more than gooey. In fact, if you combine Knight, his attentiveness, and now the strong vibrations pouring through the seat of this huge, ATV-shaped vibrator, I’m feeling positively wet.
Seemingly oblivious to my heightened arousal, Knight taps at his cell, and the garage door starts to lift. Seconds later, he accelerates forward, and we shoot out of the garage and down a dirt track heading in the opposite direction of the road. After driving for a few minutes, we approach a high metal fence that seems to extend as far as I can see in both directions. When we get closer, a panel starts to move, sliding open far enough for Knight to drive through it.
Turning my head, I watch the panel, which I can now see is a gate, slowly start to close behind us. Knight steers the ATV through a patch of woodland and into a clearing, and moments later, the Barnetts’ house comes into view in the distance.
Parking the ATV behind Betty’s pink monstrosity of a car, Knight kills the engine, and the vibrations that have been pulsing through my core abruptly stop. Without a word, he jumps out and jogs to my side, releasing me from the harness,before he lifts me out of the ATV and places me on my feet, taking my hand before I can step away.
“Wait,” I blurt when he starts to walk us toward the front door.
Immediately stopping, he turns and gives me his full attention.
“Did Betty know you were coming to get me?” I ask.
“No,” he says, turning and marching to the door, knocking before I have a chance to tell him not to.
Cody answers, his smile warm when it lands on Knight, turning curious, then immediately ecstatic when it settles on me. “Octy,” he exclaims. “You’re here. Betty is going to lose her mind.”
Stepping back, he motions for us to step inside, then rushes through the house and toward the door that leads to their place. I’ve barely closed the door behind us when a visibly pregnant Betty emerges from their home within the home and storms toward me.
“You’re here,” she says, dragging me into her arms, before promptly bursting into tears.
Loudly crying pregnant women are not my forte, so instead of comforting her, I find myself frozen to the spot, my hand still tightly gripped in Knight’s as he refuses to relinquish his hold on me, despite my friend blubbering all over me.
“Come on, little mama, let’s give Octy some room to breathe,” Cody says with an amused chuckle, carefully peeling Betty away from me and turning her into his chest.
“Bett, are you okay?” I eventually question, suddenly worrying that she’s crying over something other than me being here.
“I’m fine,” she says between sobs, her chest hitching as she gasps for air. “But you’re here, and I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely, guilt over my extended return to Rapid City settling like a rock in my stomach.
Knight squeezes my hand and tugs me backward until my back hits his chest, and his body heat instantly nullifies some of my guilt. He doesn’t speak, but even after only a few hours with him, I’ve started to get used to his silence and how loud his actions can be, even when he doesn’t say a word.
Ignoring us, Cody close-talks with Betty, speaking quietly before tipping her chin up and kissing her softly.
Unable to look away, I watch them together, while I’m curled into the shelter of Knight’s huge body. Is this how we looked when I was crying earlier? What would he do now if I got emotional? Would he handle me the way Cody is handling Betty, and would I want him to?
The truth is, I don’t think I’d hate him treating me the way Cody treats my friend. But I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I let Abel influence me in ways I shouldn’t have. I let him change me and suppress me. Was I just under Abel’s spell, or would I let Knight do the same? Would he try?
Knight is nothing like Abel. I don’t know him that well, but he doesn’t seem like the type of man who would want me to be someone I’m not. But then I didn’t see the red flags with Abel until it was too late, either, and by then the damage had already been done.
Like he can sense my thoughts, Knight’s arms band around my waist, holding me close, reassuring me even though he can’t possibly know what I’m thinking and the internal dilemma I’m having.
“Oh god,” Betty says with a laugh, spinning around to face me, wiping tears from her cheeks with her fingers. “I’m sorry. These pregnancy hormones are making me crazy. I’m just really glad you’re here, Octy. I wasn’t sure if you’d changed your mind.”
