“Don’t youdare—”
I’m already striding in Knox’s direction, my boots clunking on the linoleum floor. His shoulders stiffen when he sees me coming, chilling me with a gaze as cool as winter wind. Or so he thinks.
I can see the yearning behind it.
“The hell do you want?” he says, lips barely moving.
“Come meet my mother,” I whisper, raising my chin, my pulse sprinting just from being close to him. Close enough to touch. “I w-want you to meet her.”
He snorts, tossing a roll of foil into his basket. “Why would I do that?”
Because you like me. Because you call me an angel. A sweetheart.
The way you kiss me…it’s coming from a deep, longing place inside of you.
Please don’t pretend otherwise.
“It’s neighborly to say hello,” I say, instead.
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
I should leave the conversation there. Just strut away with a plan to yell and throw things at him later tonight.
Except I look down into his cart and see all the fixings for a peach pie.
Is he making one for himself? Is he making it because he enjoyed mine so much? Because the taste reminds him of me? Or am I reading too deeply into nothing. I don’t know, but the clue to his true nature gives me courage.
“Please?” I murmur.
He jerks back slightly, as if the word has burned him. He shifts in his boots, looking pissed. “You just want me to come say hello.”
“Yes.”
His disgust is plain. “Jesus fucking Christ, Billie.”
“Please?”
“Stop saying please like that,” he growls.
“Like what?”
“With thoseeyes.” A line moves in his jaw. “You know what you’re doing.”
He’s a good man, despite his rocky past. I just know it. If I can peel back one layer at a time, I’ll reveal him.
I beam up at Knox, teeth and all.
He stares, swallowing audibly.
I take his elbow and tug in the direction of my mother. “Come on.”
“This is bullshit.”
“You can do it.” We stop in front of my mother, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights. “Mom, I’m not sure you’ve met Knox Morgan in person?”
“No, I have not,” she says, jolting into niceties. Holding out her hand for a quick shake. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Morgan.”
“Ma’am,” he sighs.
