I gladly took it, and not only because he earned it.
He didn’t give it for long. He rolled off, taking me with him to tuck me to his side.
“I don’t know what the doctors are going to say tomorrow, but my diagnosis is, your recovery is coming along very well, Mr. Chambers,” I remarked.
He pulled me further on him, so I could see his smile before his hand threaded into my hair, and he brought my mouth to his for a wet, sweet, thorough kiss.
Jacques barked.
We stopped kissing.
“My turn,” he said softly.
“I’ll do coffee and doggie breakfast.”
We touched lips and Knox pulled us both out of bed.
He threw on some clothes and he and Jacques took off.
This left me alone with my toothbrush, the drama of last night having faded, Knox not around taking all my attention, and it was only then I realized I’d completely forgotten his mom had come to visit me.
In my defense, in the interim, I’d rolled around in beet and potato soup in a fancy restaurant, which would turn anyone’s mind to the matters at hand.
But I needed to tell him as soon as he got back.
I had everything ready when they came through the door. Knox took off Jacques’s lead, and he trotted to his bowl. He hung the leash on the hook by the door and headed my way.
I waited until he’d had a sip of coffee and asked me, “Eggs for breakfast? English muffins? Something else?”
“I don’t know how to share this without you losing your shit,” was my preamble. “So I’m just going to share it, but before I do, I beg you to take a minute and try to get a lock on it because it happened, it’s over, and as with Cheyenne, we’re moving on.”
He had his cup half suspended to his beautiful mouth, and his equally beautiful eyes locked on me, when he grunted, “What?”
“I will also remind you that I got in a catfight at a nice restaurant between then and now,” I said.
He dropped the mug and clipped, “Luna, spill it.”
God.
God.
“Okay. When I was walking to my car last night, someone was waiting there to talk to me.”
The air in the room closed in on me.
“Knox—”
“Who?”
“Knox—”
“Goddammit, Luna. Who?” he barked.
“Your mom,” I said gently.
He stood still.
I waited.
