Chapter 4

 

Knox knew he’d be taking a chance by picking up food and just showing up at Carley’s apartment that morning, but thankfully, his efforts had been appreciated.

He didn’t know what it was about the blond hairdresser, but something about being around Carley set his pulse racing and his heart pounding so hard in his chest, it felt like it was trying to break free.

It was more than just the fact that she was beautiful—although she was gorgeous, and just enough on the tall side that she fit perfectly against him when they’d slow-danced at her sister’s wedding. She also made him laugh, and he admired her dedication to family, supporting her sister and doting on her nephew. She was someone he wanted to spend time with, and he hoped she’d give him a chance to get to know her better.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had taken up so many of his thoughts. And he did think about her—imagining how it would feel to slide his hands along her lush curves and run his fingers through her thick curly mess of hair, the chestnut blond shade reminding him of the color of his favorite horse.

But there was still something more. She had a vulnerability about her, just a shadow of insecurity that told him someone—probably that bastard ex of hers—had hurt her. That hint of pain had all his protective instincts kicking in and all he wanted to do was shield her from anyone ever hurting her again. Too bad that hurt also came with defensive walls that seemed a hundred feet high and kept shooting up every time he dared to get too close.

“This is the last of it,” Carley told him, grabbing the final box from the front seat of her car. She nodded to her back seat. “If you wouldn’t mind grabbing the TV, we can finish with this load.”

“I’ve got it,” he said, hefting the television into his arms and closing the car doors behind him.

He couldn’t help but enjoy the view as he followed her in. She had on sneakers and leggings and a loose pink T-shirt in a wrap style that fit snug over her hips and split open in the back, revealing some kind of black bra contraption that had a thick lacy band and thin straps that crisscrossed over her back and shoulders. He wasn’t sure how it worked, but it was sexy as hell with the little straps and the glimpses he kept grabbing of the bare skin of her shoulder blades and lower back. He also shot up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever invented the snug-fitting leggings and convinced women to wear them. Because Carley Chapman wore the hell out of them.

“We did it,” she said, setting her box on the floor in the kitchen. It was the last one she’d packed, and she’d had to leave it open because it was so full. Boxes of Pasta Roni and cake mixes perched precariously on top of the pantry items and a six-pack of soda hung off one side.

He swallowed at the dryness in his mouth and tried to shake the vision of him sliding his hands inside the open back section of her shirt and skimming them over the smooth skin of her waist. He tilted his chin down to the television in his arms. “Where do you want this?”

“You can put it in my room,” she told him, leading him toward the first bedroom.

“Nice,” he said, setting the television on top of the dresser. “We’ve been here less than an hour and we’ve already made it into your bedroom.”

Oh, geez. What was it with him and the cheesy comments? He never flirted like this—which was probably becoming quite obvious to Carley—since he was so terrible at it.

She planted a hand on her hip. “You are on a roll today. Are you always this shameless a flirt?”

He shook his head, then dipped his chin to his chest. “No, actually I’m never like this. And even though part of me is as embarrassed as heck, there’s something about you that brings out this devilish side of me, and I guess I’m hoping that if I keep throwing out outrageous comments, I’m either going to get you to kiss me or earn a good laugh from you. And I’m actually pretty good with either response.”

“At least now I know what you’re after.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So does that mean a kiss is a possibility?”

“More likely a laugh, but I appreciate your commitment to your strategy.”

“I’m nothing if not thorough…” He nodded to a taped-up pile of shelving on the floor. “How about if I shut up now and just help you put that bookshelf back together and get those pictures hung up?”

“That sounds good.”

“I’ll just grab my tools from the truck.”

***

Seriously? A tool belt?Carley swallowed as she watched Knox hook the belt around his waist, then let it ride low on his hips. What was it about a guy wearing a tool belt that had her lady parts screaming that they needed to be hammered? Wait, bad choice of words. She meant that they were broken and needed to be fixed…with his tool…er…tools.

He pulled his hammer from the loop on the side and held it up, almost as if reading her mind. “Do you have something you need me to nail?”

A laugh burst out of her. Whether it was nerves or that his comment was just too cheesy, she couldn’t hold back the laughter.

He lifted one shoulder as he offered her a sheepish grin. “That one was probably a little too much.”

“But you did get me to laugh.”

“One mission down, one to go.”

“You still think you’re gonna earn that kiss?”

His lips curved into a slow sexy smile. “I’m still gonna try.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she said, still chuckling as she hoisted a box onto the desk and ripped off the tape.

They worked in companionable silence, except for the sound of Knox’s screw gun as he assembled her bookshelf. She unpacked her clothes into the dresser and closet, continually aware of his presence as they brushed against each other as they moved around the room.

She could smell his aftershave and the clean linen scent of laundry detergent as she turned from the closet and accidentally bumped into his chest. The fabric of his faded T-shirt was so soft, and his shoulders were so broad, she just wanted to cuddle into his chest. Either that or climb him like a tree. The man was seriously sexy. His shirtsleeves hugged the solid muscles of his biceps, and his forearms flexed and corded as he pounded nails into the wall and hung her pictures.

She wasn’t normally this affected by a man. Heck, she was around men all the time, but none of them had her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest or her libido on DEFCON 1 alert every time she was within a foot of them.

Knox was a great guy. Or he seemed to be in the last month that she’d known him. He was fun to flirt with and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate his attention. But she wasn’t looking for a man or a relationship, no matter how strong his arms or how broad his shoulders were. Or how catching a glimpse of his bare stomach when he reached up sent darts of heat coiling through her most sensitive places, places that hadn’t felt heat like that in a long time.

Images of them tangling in the covers filled her thoughts as she shook out a fitted sheet and tucked it around the corner of the bed.

Forget the hunky cowboy. Focus on the room. Not the bed.

Yeah, right. There wasn’t much she could think of that would deter her mind from Knox, especially with the way his chest pressed against her back as he leaned around her to reach for a loose corner of the sheet.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, grabbing a section and pulling it toward the opposite corner. “Nice sheets,” he commented, running his hand over the mint green fabric. “Soft.”

She nodded, trying to push away the image of his hand running over her body the way he’d just run it along the sheet. Dang. What was wrong with her? Her body felt electric with all the tingles and shivers his stupid, sexy grin was causing. Had there been some kind of aphrodisiac in those breakfast sandwiches? “Thanks. They’re flannel. I’ve had them forever.” She passed him a corner of the comforter.

“They look pretty cozy,” he said, pulling up the bedspread and folding the top edge down like she’d done. He patted his side of the mattress. “Want to try it out with me?”

“What do you mean…?” she sputtered, heat rushing to her cheeks.

His face broke into a grin. “I just meant to take a nap. Geez, where’s your mind?”

Apparently naked and in bed with you. Her imagination was now running wild with images of them naked and under the comforter. She could almost feel the cool cotton of the sheets against her skin.

She glanced up to catch that knowing grin on his face again. “From the pink in your cheeks, I can guess where your mind went. Which is okay with me.”

“My mind went to the same place as yours. Of course I knew you were talking about a nap. We haven’t even kissed yet.”

He raised an eyebrow and dropped his voice to that easy drawl that made the butterflies take off in her stomach. “There’s an easy remedy for that.”

It would be easy—the easiest thing in the world to fall into his arms and lose herself in Knox Garrison for an afternoon. But the hard part would come afterward, when she backed away, which she knew she would. She just couldn’t let herself trust that any man—no matter how good he seemed—would stick around. And not destroy her again.

An afternoon with Knox might be worth the risk.

The room suddenly seemed to have shrunk in size as Knox came around to her side of the bed. He reached for one of the pillowcases on the nightstand behind her, and she sucked in a quick breath as his arm brushed against her hip. As if it had a mind of its own, her hand raised up and came within an inch of touching his chest. Hovering in the air, it was as if an electric force field were holding it there, so close to touching him, her hand wanting to bridge the distance while her mind kept it at bay.

“Could I get a pillow for this?” Knox asked, peering down at her.

He was so close. She could see the tiny flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes, and she just wanted to sink into their gaze.

“Could I?” he asked, his voice low, as he leaned just a tad closer.

Could he what?Kiss her? Toss her onto the bed and have his way with her?

Before she could answer, she jerked as a sound came from the kitchen. “What was that?”

His lips curved into a sexy smile. “Dang. I know my heart’s pounding pretty hard, but I didn’t think you could actually hear it.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

His grin turned sheepish. “Yeah, even I heard how corny that sounded.”

A hushed slide followed by a scrape of wood sounded, and she gripped his arm. “See, there it is again,” she whispered. “I told you I heard something.”

His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head toward the door as if that could help him to hear better.

Another whoosh followed by a thump.

“Sounds like someone’s here,” Knox said, already moving toward the door. His hand went to his hip as if reaching for his service weapon. But he wasn’t in uniform, and she caught the motion of his fingers as they flexed closed then opened again. “You expecting anyone?”

“No.”

“Stay here,” he said, just as she took his hand and squeezed it in a death grip.

“No way. I’m coming with you. What if it’s a serial killer?”

He looked down at their hands, and she swore she caught the ghost of a smile pull at the corners of his lips before another whoosh sounded and his expression turned guarded. He cautiously approached the doorway, then slowly moved his head around the frame, his muscles tense.

The tension left his shoulders, and he let out a chuckle. Tilting his head toward the door, he said, “You were almost right. It’s not quite a serial killer, but you could call him a cereal sniper because it looks like he’s trying to take off with your Lucky Charms.”

“What?” She peered around him and the door frame to see a black and white billy goat in her kitchen, his teeth clamped onto one of the flaps of her open pantry box as he systematically pulled it toward the screen door they’d propped open earlier when they’d been bringing stuff in. The goat would take a few steps back and then pull the box toward him, sliding it over the hardwood and making the whooshing and thumping sounds they’d been hearing.

Carley stepped into the hallway. “Hey, let go of that.” She’d met Otis before, the ornery goat trying to abscond with her Lucky Charms. “And don’t think I don’t see you two as well.” She pointed to Shamus, the mini-horse Bryn had rescued earlier that year, standing in the doorway, and Tiny, the pig, on the porch behind him, innocently watching as if she had nothing to do with the moving box heist.

Otis ignored her, and instead doubled his efforts as he tugged the box closer to the door.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, hurrying down the hall and grabbing the other side of the box. “You wanna give me a hand here, Deputy?” she called back to Knox.

He laughed as he followed her into the kitchen. “I’m not sure what the right move is here. Do I try to help you get the box away from him or do I try to get him to drop the box?”

“I’m not sure, either. You’re the one trained for crisis situations.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a goat crisis before.”

“This is Otis. He’s always sneaking around trying to steal stuff, especially if it’s edible.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard the story of how Ethan rescued your half-naked sister from the hay loft after Otis had stolen her skirt.”

“That’s nothing. My friend Nora was all the way naked when she had a tug-of-war with him over her towel after she’d just gotten out of the shower.”

“Half-naked? All the way naked? Dang, now I feel like I’m getting the short end of the stick in this goat battle.” He reached for her edge of the box. “I’ll spot you if you want to strip down to your undies real quick. We don’t want to buck the trend.”

“Nice try, buster. But not a chance.”

He arched one eyebrow. “Would you consider at least taking your top off?”

She had to laugh. “Would you?”

“Heck, yes.”

“You goofball,” she said, still laughing. “Just help me save this box.”

“You sure?” he asked, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. “I’ll do it.” Before he could pull it off, Otis must have sensed a break in their concentration and given one more massive pull at his side of the box. The cardboard ripped, sending Pasta-roni and cake mixes toppling out and the six-pack of soda that had been precariously perched on the edge of the box sliding off the side. It crashed to the hardwood, and the top of one of the cans burst open and soda shot out, spraying directly at Knox’s chest.

The soda spray must have frightened Otis because he let go of the flap and took a step back. Never one to give up a fight, he snatched a box of vanilla cake mix and made a mad dash out the door.

Carley fell back on her bottom, laughing as Knox waved his arms in an attempt to try to fend off the last sprays of the pop.

“Should I go after him?” he asked, as the soda can fizzled out.

Carley shook her head. “Oh, let him have it. It’s not like he can actually make the cake.”

“Right? You mean because he doesn’t have vegetable oil and three eggs?”

She laughed again. “I was thinking because he doesn’t have an oven. But you make a valid point too.”

“Man, this stuff is sticky.” He pulled his wet shirt away from his chest, then offered her another one of his flirty grins. “I think you’re gonna get your request because I’ve gotta take this shirt off.”