KNOX: An Enemies-to-Lovers Sweet Romantic Comedy

by Horrocks, Heather

  KNOX

  An Enemies-to-Lovers Sweet Romantic Comedy

  Heather Horrocks

  Contents

  Happy Ending at About 90%

  Half Title

  1. He’d Be a Sitting Duck

  2. To Protect the Quarterback

  3. That’s a Lot of Money

  4. Let’s Just Disappear for a Week

  5. Have You Ever Seen Two People More Pigheaded in Your Life?

  6. Then Just Give Us a Hint and Beat Us Up a Little

  7. A Gift?

  8. Maybe You’re Just with The Wrong Reid Brother

  9. I’m No Notch

  10. Do You Like to Run?

  11. No, I’ve Got it Good

  12. The Wrong Conclusions

  13. You Want All of Us?

  14. You Will Be Generous, Right?

  15. Epilogue - I’ll Give You the World

  Thank you!

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Series by Heather Horrocks

  Acknowledgments

  Rights & Copyrights

  Book Club Questions

  Thanks again!

  Dedicated to Andy Marsh, my awesome son-in-law, who — like Daniel — had to recover from the debilitating effects of a fifth concussion. I’m glad you’re doing so well. Thanks for being such an honorable husband to our daughter and amazing father to our adorable grandsons.

  Also in memory of my witty, funny Aunt Joan, from whom I totally stole “floor d'oeuvres.” I hope you get a laugh out of it in heaven. I miss you. Say hi to Mom for me.

  And to Mark — the quarterback in my game of life.

  Happy Ending at About 90%

  In case you’re like me and want to know how close you are to the end of a book, and because there are pages that come after the end of a book (copyright, book club questions, about the author, excerpts), I just wanted to let you know where to find ‘The End’ of this book. Enjoy.

  Knox

  © 2019 Heather Horrocks

  1

  He’d Be a Sitting Duck

  “How could you fall for a scam like that?” Knox Reid stared at his oldest brother in disbelief, practically yelling through his masquerade mask to be heard over the noisy crowd in The Phoenix Ballroom in Waco, Texas. “Why are you even talking with this woman?”

  He’d barely restrained himself while waiting until after his parents, along with his sister and brothers and their dates, left the table to move onto the dance floor. Then he’d walked back to the table and stood, looking down at his brother.

  Daniel Reid pulled off his Phantom of the Opera mask and glared up at Knox, his eyes narrowed. With far too much effort, Daniel pushed to a standing position, holding onto the table for balance. As if to put them on equal terms.

  This Valentine’s Day Masquerade Ball Fundraiser was raising money for ALS — a lot of money. Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis wasn’t a diagnosis anyone welcomed. A neurodegenerative disease, it was increasingly linked to concussions — especially multiple concussions like football players received. Which was why Knox had agreed to wear the ridiculous mask in the first place, because of his brother’s pre-ALS symptoms.

  Knox pulled off his own steampunk cog-covered mask to better glare back at his stubborn brother. He didn’t want to force Daniel to stand when he had trouble just keeping his balance. It was incredibly hard to watch his big strong older brother struggle to do simple things like walk and stand. So with a growl, Knox dropped his large frame onto the seat next to his still-struggling-to-stand brother and dropped his mask onto the table.

  For a moment, he thought his brother would remain standing out of sheer stubborn determination, but finally Daniel sank back down and said, patiently, as if talking to his two little kids, “I’m listening to her because I don’t want to die.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Knox glared right back at his brother. “Some pretty young thing comes up to you and offers to reverse your pre-ALS symptoms, and you believe her?”

  “How do you know she’s pretty or young?”

  “I’m just guessing.” Why else would Daniel fall for something this far-fetched?

  Still holding his mask, Daniel motioned around the room. “You and the others here tonight, you’re all doing a good thing for other people, but for me, ALS is a distinct possibility. I already have some of the symptoms. I want to live as long as I can and be functional as long as possible. I’ve seen the struggle Vince has had. That’s why I’ve agreed to this therapy.”

  “Dude, if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”

  “You know what? I hope she’s right and this does work just like she says it will. I need a miracle cure.” Daniel looked over the crowd swirling around them. People laughing, dancing, talking, and eating, all for a good cause. The cause Daniel and Vince, the brother of Knox’s teammate, Nick Davis, were representing.

  Along with Tyrese Wayans, Jordan Landon, and Tony Escobar, and his brother Bobby, Nick and Knox made up the offensive line of the Waco Wranglers pro football team. The rest of his brothers played defense. The owner of the team, Christopher Burke, had put his full support behind this fundraiser — because of Vince and Daniel. So when Christopher found the five of them hanging back like burly wallflowers, he’d challenged them, and put some money behind it. And then Knox’s own father — former Wranglers quarterback and Football Hall of Fame inductee Ace Reid — had upped the ante by challenging their squad of five to each ask a woman to dance in the next thirty minutes. If they did, both Christopher and Knox’s father would donate an additional five grand for each of them, for a total of an additional ten grand for the cause. Each. All five of them had already donated, but they couldn’t pass up this offer to give more without taking it out of their own wallets.

  Instead, Knox was here arguing with his far too vulnerable brother. Along with their other brothers, Sam and Frank, Daniel had played offense for the Waco Wranglers — until his fifth concussion had taken him out off the field at the age of thirty. He was still slurring his words and stumbling when he walked, even two months later. He hadn’t received an official diagnosis of ALS, but he did already have some of the symptoms. It hurt Knox’s heart.

  Daniel made an attempt to change the subject. “That was a pretty amazing intro Nick gave when this thing started. You guys all had the crowd cheering.”

  Knox nodded. Nick had taken the mic and, when he’d gotten to the part about “when the disease hits your own brother, you have to take action,” Knox had been overcome with emotion, and he and his teammates cheered and whistled. It had been an intense moment, and Knox’s heart was still aching.

  Daniel added, “Noah’s video was a nice touch, too.”

  Knox had to smile at that. Their cousin, Noah Reid Kapuni Sullivan, had played for the Wranglers for several years before his buddy started a production company and invited Noah to star in an action film. The franchise had surprisingly taken off big and now Noah was a bonified famous action movie star. He hadn’t been able to fly into Waco because of a shoot, but they’d gotten him on a video chat played up on a big screen. Even remotely, Noah had charmed the crowd. He’d also donated a huge amount to the cause and mentioned an acting camp he’d be hosting on an island near Fiji in June, if anybody wanted to donate to another good cause.

  Noah had lived in Waco until his early teens, when his parents had moved back to his father’s home state of Hawaii. Noah had just been one of the brothers growing up and he’d been sorely missed. He only came back to Waco occasionally to visit them and their mutual grandparents. He was still one of Knox’s best friends.

  Knox pulle
d himself back from his memories of his cousin. “Daniel, please reconsider this therapy thing. Nothing that only lasts two weeks is going to reverse your symptoms.”

  “I don’t care what you say. I’m going to do it.” Daniel shook his head in frustration, probably at stumbling over his words, but no one could miss the pigheaded, stubborn determination behind them.

  “You’re being scammed,” Knox repeated, more emphatically.

  “Maybe I don’t mind being scammed by a pretty woman. It’s happened before. I got two kids and a future alimony check out of the last one. Even high school sweethearts can turn out bad.”

  “So she is pretty. Seriously, dude, don’t let one attractive girl ruin your marriage,” Knox warned.

  Daniel’s face settled into angry lines. “Jessie left me. She deserted me in my time of need. Maybe I’m looking for someone who is more loyal.”

  “That’s dangerous talk. I’m sure Jessie is just working through things. She’ll be back.”

  Daniel shook his head. “I’m on my own.” After a pause, he got out, “I want to play football. Amy’s going to help.”

  So Amy was the name of the false hope swindler. Knox shook his head sadly. Daniel wasn’t hearing him. So, instead of raising his voice, he lowered it. “Amy is peddling a scam therapy. What you really need is marriage counseling. You need to try to save your marriage.”

  Daniel lifted his mask and settled it back on his face. “Go away. Start packing for Italy.”

  Knox shook his head as he stood. He was catching a flight to Europe tomorrow and had been looking forward to it, but he wasn’t going to let his brother use that to change the subject. “Don’t blow your marriage, dude. Jessie is worth fighting for. Sophie and Levi for sure are.”

  Daniel scowled at him.

  Knox glanced at his phone. “There’s $10,000 hinging on whether I ask someone to dance in the next ten minutes or not. I’m going to go earn that donation for the cause.”

  “At least you can dance,” Daniel muttered.

  Knox spun away from the table, dodging between people despite his large frame.

  He glanced at the dance floor to see Nick dancing with a tiny woman — but they were all tiny when you were well over six feet tall. They still had masks on, but it was hard to miss an offensive lineman’s physique — they all averaged over 300 pounds on a 6’5” frame. All muscle. Just like you’d still be able to pick out Jason Momoa on the dance floor, even if he wore a mask. Same with Nick, Tony, Jordan, and Tyrese — and Knox.

  The three of them had just gotten money added to the pot tonight. It was time for Knox to earn his dance-related donation.

  He bumped into a woman. “Excuse me.”

  He reached out a hand to steady a petite blonde wearing a shimmery sea-blue gown and a fancy blue-and-purple feathered Mardi Gras-type mask.

  Her arm was warm, and sent tingles spiraling up his arm. That was weird. He couldn’t even see her face, but she had a fine figure. His own mask sent his warm breath back into his face and suddenly he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He released his hold on her arm as if he’d been burned.

  Her amazing green eyes shone up at him through the mask and sparkled, as though she might be smiling, as she reached out and touched his forearm. “No problem.”

  The spot she touched lit up with tingles, but he didn’t pull away.

  Her voice was smooth and husky, and she had a Texas accent that was music to his ears.

  That convinced him. He’d like to dance with this green-eyed Texas gal. If she’d say yes, that is. “Would you care to dance?”

  She tipped her head. “Sure.”

  She walked beside him onto the dance floor, then turned to face him. The song was a slow one, and she slipped into his arms as if she were meant to be there. The touch of her sent shivers tingling along his limbs. She wore a light floral perfume, something citrusy. And her thick blonde hair curled around her mask.

  His mouth was a little dry when he asked, “Do you like football?”

  “Oh, do you mean soccer?” she asked sweetly as he began to lead her into the dance steps his mother had taught him so long ago. “I love it.”

  He stopped with a snort and held her out at arm’s length. “Soccer? Are you kidding me?”

  “Oh, if only I could see the look on your face right now.” She started to laugh, and the sound wrapped around his chest, swirling in and around his heart. “Yes, I am totally kidding.”

  She nudged him and he began to lead her again. After a moment and several twirls, she said, “I like the Dallas Cowboys.”

  “You do know the Cowboys are rivals to the Wranglers, right? And the Wranglers are helping put on this shindig. Your favorite team, at least for tonight, is the Waco Wranglers.”

  She laughed again. “Really? You don’t say.” Her voice was sweet and innocent — and mischievous, all at once. “Actually, my favorite teams are my high school team, the Baylor Bears — oh, and apparently the Waco Wranglers, too. Do you play for them?” She tapped a finger on one of his biceps. “You’re certainly big and strong enough.”

  Her voice was light and teasing, but he sucked in a breath as she ran her hand back up to his shoulder.

  “Yes.” His mouth was suddenly dry again and he dipped her, surprising her into silence. Then she laughed, and he smiled.

  He lifted her up, and they danced for a moment in silence, then her words registered.

  “You like the Bears? Did you go to Baylor University?”

  “I sure did. Graduated magna cum laude.” She looked up at him. “Where did you go?”

  “I’m a former Baylor Bear, myself. I played football for them. Not soccer.”

  “I probably wouldn’t recognize your name.” She laughed airily. “I think you were there before my time.”

  “How old do you think I am, anyway?” he asked in mock indignation.

  She laughed again. “I just graduated last year, and you’ve been playing professionally for several years. Plus I quit watching football games in high school.”

  “Then you’ve missed some great games.” He smiled. “So, you’re from Waco?”

  “Born and raised.” She sounded proud of it.

  He liked that about her. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “I could start singing ‘It’s a Small World,’ if you’d like.”

  “You sing, too? I’m impressed.”

  “And I travel for business occasionally, too.”

  “I’m leaving for Italy in the morning. I’ll be there for two weeks.”

  “Now I’m impressed. That sound like a fun trip. Business or pleasure?”

  “Strictly pleasure.”

  He dipped her again. He liked the feel of her in his arms. He’d had a lot of women throw themselves at him just because he was a football player — all the way from Sylvia Matthews back in high school to groupies now — and he’d grown weary of women not really seeing him for who he was. Thank goodness this woman didn’t have the vibe of a groupie. She didn’t watch the games. And she wasn’t crawling all over his body — instead she was teasing him. Soccer, indeed. He snorted again.

  “Okay. What do you do in Waco?”

  The feathers on her mask bobbed as they moved. “I work for a company that does therapy.”

  “Really.” He spun her twice and pulled her close again. “Massage therapy? Physical therapy? Psychotherapy?”

  “Actually, it’s called Cerebration Works and its mind-body therapy that helps people who’ve had debilitating concussions.”

  Ice hit his veins. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Could there be two different women here offering therapy for concussions? Suspicious, he asked, working to keep the coolness from his voice, “Do you know my brother?”

  “I can’t tell from your mask who you are.”

  “I’m Knox Reid. My brother is Daniel Reid.”

  “Daniel’s your brother?” She sounded pleased. “I’m going to be working with him, helping him recover from his last co
ncussion. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  He slowed his steps until they came to a standstill. Luckily, the song was ending.

  Still, she looked up with a question in her vivid green eyes as he released her.

  A new song began, but he continued to stand stock still.

  Shocked, he said, “You’re the woman doing post-concussion therapy on my brother?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  What did it say about him that the first emotion that slammed into him was disappointment? He’d really liked this woman, had been incredibly attracted to her, even without seeing her face, and now this? “You’re the scam artist?”

  “Scam artist?” She sounded offended and clenched her fists. “What are you talking about? I work for a reputable, cutting-edge company that helps people. It’s no scam.”

  Anger flooded him. “Daniel is vulnerable right now. He doesn’t need you coming in with your false hope and your pretty blonde hair and curvy figure. You leave him alone. He’s got a wife.”

  She stiffened and her voice rose. “I’m not after your brother.”

  “Make sure you’re not. Leave him alone. He’s got enough on his plate.”

  He spun away and left her standing there as he marched through the couples who’d begun dancing with the new song.

  Why did he still feel disappointed?

  * * *

  Scam artist?

  Incensed, indignant, infuriated, Amy Kingsley watched the large football player storm from the dance floor.