Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
He sounded all reasonable, which only made me that much more frustrated.
“The problem?” I scoffed, voice too harsh, but the words kept tumbling out anyway. “There’s too many to list, starting with I’m not afraid of much in this life, but I’d rather not trash one of my oldest friendships simply because I made a stupid mistake.”
“Mistake. I see.” Smile gone, Knox stepped back like I’d slugged him, wounded tone matching his pinched expression.
“Sorry, that came out abrupt.” I paced away, shaking my arms, trying to keep my body language from mirroring my mood. Didn’t need anyone glancing our way thinking we were arguing. Which we were. But we didn’t need any questions, especially from Rob or Jessica.
“Or you were honest.” Knox shrugged, but the tightness around his eyes and mouth said he was anything but carefree. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I’m not looking to become another mistake on your flawless record. I’ll figure something else out for the summer.”
“Knox—”
“Damn. I thought I’d fall to my knees to hear you say my actual name. Apparently, that was a mistake too.” He brushed past me on his way into the house, leaving me to lean against the deck railing. How in the hell was I supposed to make this right?
Chapter Five
Knox
I could feel Monroe’s eyes on me. He didn’t chase after me, but his intense, soulful gaze was a palpable thing as I went about helping Dad set up the grill and pushing the triplets and their friends on the swings. Damn it. When I’d opened the door to see Lieutenant Butter—Monroe—in the flesh, looking far more comfortable in a short-sleeve cotton shirt with buttons and pressed khaki shorts, elation had rushed through me. Like an A on a test that I’d expected to fail. Immediately, I’d had a plan. Live with the old dude Dad had lined up for me, seduce Lieutenant Butter all summer long…
And then, in even more of a shocker, my sexy-ass lieutenant, who could dance like he had a slinky for a spine, was also Monroe—a.k.a. the old dude. Apparently, my brain had forgotten that military dudes retired young. And hot. For all of five minutes, I’d had visions of the perfect summer fling. Fix Monroe’s house. Get out of the basement. Spend all summer tangled up with the hottest guy I’d ever kissed. Seemed like the best plan ever.
Until he’d called me a mistake, voice all bitter, like the entire memory was tarnished now that he knew who I was. Sexiest night of my damn life, but just another mistake to him. One he didn’t want to repeat. And yeah, I probably should have kept talking to him, tried to wrangle him into honoring the agreement for the summer, but there was only so much rejection a dude could take.
Kid duty and my usual role as chief gofer were easier, even if I did feel his eyes on me the whole damn time.
“Oh my gosh!” Jessica’s mother, Edith, arrived, fashionably late as usual. Her Australian accent was way more pronounced than Jessica’s, and she had a way of dominating a room, or in this case, a deck. I much preferred her quiet, American second husband with whom she traveled the country. They were nominally based out of Portland, but they seemed always on the go. Her husband trailed behind Edith as she admired Jessica’s fruit-patterned sundress. “Jessica! You and the girls match!”
“I brought the matching dresses with me, Mum.” Angie, Jessica’s sister, stepped outside as the girls ran ahead of me to greet their grandmother. Indeed, the triplets wore identical dresses to the one Jessica sported, and they obediently twirled and preened.
“Let’s get a family picture!” Edith suggested, never one to miss a photo opportunity, as proved by the crowded walls of photos of the triplets in every room of Dad and Jessica’s house. Wedding shots. Maternity shots. Ultrasound pics. My mom’s Seattle condo had been similar—pics of her and Candace and the pair of sisters they’d adopted from foster care. I assumed their new place in Chicago had even more of a shrine to their coupledom and Candace’s pro basketball career. In both houses, I was on the periphery in a few shots—there at the weddings and birthdays, but not the focus.
Which was okay. I wasn’t a center-of-attention type of guy, and I helped Jessica line up the triplets, getting fingers out of mouths and dresses straight.
“Rob?” Jessica called over to Dad. “Mum wants a picture of us and the girls.”
“Sure thing, honey.” Dad came loping over and dug his phone from his pocket. “Knox? Can you take one with my phone too?”
“No problem.” I took pics with his phone, Jessica’s fancy camera that seemed always at the ready, and then a few with Edith’s of her and Jessica and the girls. The bright dresses would look cute on whatever scrap of wall Jessica found for these pics. I nabbed one with my phone at the end, the girls having run out of patience and acting all silly. I’d send it to a few friends to show how big the girls were getting.