Leo reaches for my hand and grips it. “You should stay home, today. We can fix this.”
“New window should be here about three,” Knox says suddenly.
“It will?” I ask.
“Had it measured last night.”
“Of course, you did,” I reply.
He tries to hide his grin and fails. And I’m glad. Because there’s something about the way Knox smiles at me that makes my stomach trip and fall.
“I’ll need about fifteen minutes to shower and change and then I’ll?—”
“She’ll need an hour, Leo. I’m gonna make her breakfast while she’s in the shower because she hasn’t eaten this morning.”
“Are you okay with that, Maren?” Leo asks. The glance he gives Knox is not welcoming. He knows of the family history between Knox’s family and my father.
“I’m fine. Honestly. Knox has looked after me.”
Leo’s shoulders drop a little in relief that all seems well, and he nods before heading back into the shop.
Knox puts his hands on my hips, turning me from left to right, as if inspecting me. Then, he dips his shoulder to my stomach and hauls me up into a fireman’s lift.
“Knox.” The word comes out on a squeal. “What are you doing?”
He pats my ass. “Not sure carrying you in my arms would work on this narrow wooden staircase.”
I hear the chuckle of the men he’s asked to keep watch. Heck, I can feel the laughter ripple through him.
And then, it turns to shit when red and blue flashing lights appear in my peripheral vision just before he’s even taken the first step.
I’m about to tell Knox to put me down, when he starts to lower me to the ground.
“You saw my father too?” I ask.
Knox nods. “Go upstairs.”
I shake my head. “I’ll let you carry me because I have no shoes, but I don’t need you to deal with my father for me.”
The squad car pulls into the lot, gravel crunching as he brakes too hard. “Well,” my father says as he pulls himself out of the driver’s seat. “Isn’t this a fucking sight.”
Knox’s hand settles on my waist, solid and grounding.
“Dad—”
“Don’t.” His gaze flicks over me, taking in my messy hair and rumpled clothes, and the way Knox has a possessive hold on me, and something ugly settles in my father’s expression. “Don’t you dare.”
Heat crawls over me.
“You show up, finally,” he continues. “You look like this after a night doing God knows what withhim. After I hear from witnesses saying your truck was shot at. After coming here to find the place with signs of violent entry. And you not answering your phone.”
“I didn’t have my charger,” I explain, then realize nothing I say is going to make any difference to my father.
“You just threw your life away. You arrive back here, with him, let people see you like this. People aren’t going to come around the bait shop if they think they’re going to have to deal with a bunch of no-good criminal bikers.”
“Fuck you,” Knox says. “You knew she was broken into, shot at, but I don’t see you here, cleaning the place up, helping her get it running again. You didn’t need to find her to do any of that.”
My father points his finger in Knox’s direction. “And you just fucked with a crime scene. Stay out of this. It’s between me and my daughter.”
