Knox squirms beside me but leans down to whisper in my ear. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” I say loud enough for Emma and Henry to hear. “I’m all in, baby.” I wink, causing Knox’s grip to tighten and my stomach to flip. There I go breaking my own rules again.
“Okay,baby,” he chides, adding extra emphasis on the new greenlit pet name. “I guess we’re having a family dinner then.”
After a few more lighthearted jokes and giving sleepy Milo’s dangling leg a squeeze before saying goodbye, I spin on my heel and head back toward Knox’s truck. Except, Idon’t get far before his giant hand swallows mine and pulls me in a different direction.
“What are you doing?” I ask, confusion wrinkling my forehead.
“I told you I wanted to show you something, Bambi.” He smiles, not letting go of my hand. “Our night isn’t over yet.”
CHAPTER 12
KNOX
It takes a lot of convincing and some forceful manhandling to get Emery down the narrow path to the two-story garage behind Emma and Henry’s place. It used to be another one of my dad’s rental properties, but I’ve slowly turned it into my own space.
“I can’t believe I left my pepper spray in my purse,” Emery mumbles under her breath. Quietly enough to be talking to herself, but loud enough for me to loosen my grip.
“I’m not going to kidnap you, Bambi,” I sigh, shaking off the unhelpful thought of her tied up on my bed. “If I wanted to do that, I wouldn’t let you see where we’re going. And I’d definitely use a gag.” She gasps, fueling the goofy grin on my face.
When we get to the side door, I drop her hand and wrestle a set of keys from my pocket. I can feel her inquisitive stare, but that just makes me want to go slower. But I’m already skating on thin ice, so finally I turn the key and open the door.
Fluorescent light fills the space, casting a white glow over my freshly shined-up Mustang, which takes up half of thegarage. I spent my entire senior year of high school and the summer afterward rebuilding this car with my dad. It was the nicest and, dare I say, prettiest thing I owned.
“If you’re done drooling over your car, can you tell me what I’m doing here?” Emery snaps from behind me.
“Always so impatient,” I say, shaking my head. “Follow me, grumpy.”
“Grumpy?” she scoffs.
“That doesn’t count as a pet name,baby,” I say, calling back to her earlier use of the word. I’m not going to lie—I liked it when she called me baby.
I hear a few grunts and groans from behind me, but I walk toward the door on the other side of the garage, knowing she’ll follow. She was always good at following rules, whether she liked to admit it or not. No number of snide comments or scowling could cover up the soft-hearted girl underneath.
We walk through the door to find a clean space with a few work benches and a couple of neatly stacked storage bins pushed up against the wall.
“This is your new workspace,” I smile, turning toward her and stretching my arms wide.
Emery squints her eyes and tilts her head. “What?”
“After seeing what a wreck your current space is, I remembered I have this room that I’m not using that would be perfect. It’s nice and clean and big enough to work on the pieces you restore. You can even use it as storage and maybe set up a staging studio there to help sell things,” I explain, waving my arms around like a madman.
If she was anyone else, I’d expect screams of joy and maybe even a happy dance that ends with her jumping into my arms, but I know better. I expect what actually happens—the scowl shadowing her lips and her brows creasing into a jumbled mess.
“No,” she says.
I throw my hands on my hips and stare at her. “No? That’s all I get?”
She copies my stance and puts her own hands on her hips before taking a confident step forward. “I don’t need your charity, Knox. I never have and I never will.”
“What about your truck then?” I ask, regretting the question as soon as it passes my lips. She reacts accordingly, and the small vein that’s tucked beside her left eye pulses in anger.
“That’s different and you know it. We’re both getting something out of that deal.”
I pinch my lips together and dig my nails into my leather belt. “It’s not charity, Emery,” I seethe, trying hard not to attack fire with fire. She needs an extinguisher, not a match. “Think of it as an extension of our deal. My girlfriend would come over a lot, and this gives you an excuse to visit without spendingactualtime with me.” God forbid.
“What are you talking about?” she says, blowing out a steady stream of hot air. Way to change the subject, Knox. I should’ve been a salesman.
