Page 22

Hunger gnawed at my stomach as I pried my eyes away from the book I was reading. It was a spicy one—it'd been so long since I read anything like it, I'd forgotten how invigorating it made me feel. But now, I needed to step away to make sandwiches or something quick for lunch.

As I padded toward the kitchen barefoot, I heard the loud rustling sound from the garage where Knox had spent the better part of the day fixing the bike. It was almost like he couldn't stand to be around me in the house, which was foolish when you thought about it, because how did I jump to that conclusion?

I grabbed some bread from the pantry and started to fix a delicious sandwich for us. Over the past few days, I'd fallen into a routine. So even though Knox asked me not to worry, I did everything I could to make his life easier around the house. I didn't care what he thought in that regard. If he was housing me, I wanted to be of help somehow to him.

I started the day by reading, by which point he would have made us coffee. Then I would take over in the kitchen and make us breakfast. He would clean up after me, then leave for work, leaving me to toil around the house in search of a task. I was starting to lose my mind over not having anything concrete to do.

In the evening, I took a walk around the path in his garden, but I never ventured farther like the first time when I trailed him to the clubhouse. I didn't want to put him on the spot again.

I ended the night with a mug of tea and some more reading, and then I called it a day when I got tired. Boring and the same. But I would take it over living in constant anxiety and looking over my shoulder.

I finished fixing our sandwiches with all I had in the fridge and headed off to the garage. My heart seized in my chest when I entered, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me.

Knox was shirtless. His muscles flexed with every movement, brows furrowed in concentration at what he was doing. I didn't even know what he was really fixing on the bike, but my mouth had run dry at the beautiful sight in front of me and my body's confusing reaction to it. Why? What was going—

“Did you want something?”

I was startled as his voice broke into my thoughts. I looked up, and there he was, the bluish-gray of his eyes fixated on me. Heat crawled up my body.

“Lunch?” My voice came out squeaky. If he noticed, he gave no indication.

Knox stood, wringing the towel around his neck before wiping the sweat dripping down his face. He stepped around me to go wash his hands, and when he returned, he took the plate from me, gesturing to the bench around the corner.

I pulled at the hem of the oversized hoodie I had on to cover my legs before settling my plate on my lap.

“Delicious,” he moaned as he bit into his food. “Thank you, Wren.”

I nodded. While I ate slowly, looking everywhere but at him, he wolfed down his food in seconds, licking his lips while at it.

Minutes later, while I chewed my food slowly, I sat on the stool in his garage, watching him work on the old bike. It was almost impossible to connect this version of him with the man everyone at Sons of Sin feared. Here, he was quiet. Focused. Patient. His hands moved carefully as he adjusted something beneath the engine, his expression softer than I had ever seen it.

“You’re staring.”

I blinked. “I am not.”

He didn’t even look up. “You are.”

“I’m observing.”

“Semantics. You're still staring,” he pointed out.

Did I mention that he was stubborn? I smiled. “You know, you’re funnier than you think you are.”

“I’m not funny.”

“You are.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He finally looked at me. There was the familiar frown. It was becoming one of my favorite things about him. Shit! I shouldn't be having that thought, right?

“You’re annoying,” he said now, going back to his work.

I waited to swallow the food in my mouth before responding. “You say that a lot.”

“Because it’s true.”