Clutching my purse, I take a deep breath and approach the counter, where an elderly man is seated. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“I need to file a harassment report,” I tell him. “And property damage.”
The man’s bushy gray brows go up. “That so?”
I nod, doing my best not to break down and cry. I hate crying. Hate it so much. It’s a sign of weakness, and I refuse to be weak. But the tears are threatening, just behind my eyes, and waiting for the right moment to emerge and make me lose my shit. “Yes. A guy I know came into my studio and knocked a hole in the wall and threatened me. I want to get a restraining order, too, if possible.”
He picks up a pen and glances at me again. “Name?”
“Keith Lawrence.”
The man immediately sets down the pen and gives me an impatient look. “You’re Keith’s girlfriend, aren’t you? The weird one with the dance studio?”
“Actually it’s yoga, and I’m not his girlfriend.”
“He was just by here earlier today, actually. Bragging about you.” His eyes narrow at me. “You sure this isn’t just a lovers’ quarrel?”
Why is it that every time I get to the police station to ask them to do something about Keith, I get the feeling he’s already been by and talked to people? I hate that this town is small enough that all the firefighters and police are friends, because they all take his side and not mine. “We’re not dating. It’s not a lovers’ quarrel. He’s harassing me.”
His gaze flicks over my sports bra and leggings. “You think maybe you’re leading him on with the way you dress?”
Oh my god, I give up. Every time I come to the police station, I get stonewalled and insulted. I clench my keys in my hand and shove my way back out of the station, angry and frustrated and scared. This time, when I get in my car, I can’t stop the tears.
I don’t know what to do. Get up and leave everything I’ve built here? Move across the country again? I don’t have the money.
But how can I stay here? No one will help me against Keith. No one will protect me.
Except Knox, of course. I know he’d step in and try to help me against Keith . . . but I worry that something bad would happen if he did. It’s not exactly fair when the entire police force is on the wrong guy’s side.
I feel helpless and alone.
Knox
I show up the next day at the same time, ready to enact my battle plan.
I have flowers in one hand—black roses, because I know Lexi likes black—and an envelope with a printed hotel reservation in the other. I’m wearing a black T-shirt and unripped jeans, and I even trimmed my beard a bit. As other guys would fancy up for a date, it ain’t much, but for me, it’s a lot. I’m here to impress Lexi, though. Not with the money I’m throwin’ around, but with my thoughtfulness. I think this time I hit the nail on the head in regards to what she wants. If I didn’t, well, I’ll just try again. I ain’t givin’ up on her or on the idea that she’s mine.
I’m just gonna have to work a little harder to make her see it.
When I enter the small yoga studio, though, something feels off. It’s hard not to miss the fact that there’s a fist-size hole punched in one wall. The studio’s empty, too, and the weird, supposed-to-be-soothing music seems to echo more than relax. There’s a distinctly weird vibe to the place today, and it’s even more apparent when I approach the front desk and see Lexi wearing a long black T-shirt over baggy track pants instead of her usual figure-hugging workout wear. She pays no attention to me as I approach, seated on a stool behind the counter and flipping through an athletic-wear catalog.
I hold out the flowers. “Hello again.”
She barely glances up. “Black roses. Much original. So wow.”
I’m not put off by her tone. “Well, I thought bringing in dead ones might be a bit too Morticia Addams, even for you. And yeah, I think roses are a nice touch. They add a bit of funereal ambiance to this place.”
That makes her look up. Her reluctant smile begins to show. “Such big words. I’m impressed, hillbilly youngster.”
I make a mocking bow. “I live to impress you.”
“That you do.” Her focus changes and for a moment, she stares hard at the street outside the shop. “Do you hear a fire truck?”
I tilt my head, listening. Sure enough, there is one, but it’s distant. “Yeah, but it’s not close.”
“But it’s definitely a truck, right?”
At my mystified nod, she seems to relax. Huh. I notice that her counter seems oddly bare compared to the last time I was here. I rack my brain, trying to recall what she had up there before. Ah, right, a stone Buddha. I almost pocketed it because I wanted something of hers. “Your Buddha’s gone,” I comment.
“I didn’t like the vibe he was giving off,” she says, and turns pointedly back to her catalog. “Don’t you have someplace you should go?”
“Yes, actually, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. I know it’s a busy day, but I was wondering if you could fight back the crowds and steal away for a while.”
Her mouth twitches and she looks up at me again with a bit of a challenge on her face. “You don’t think they’re flocking in thanks to my winning personality?”
“I think it’s winning,” I tell her, touching my chest. “Others might not have such cultured tastes.”
“That might be an insult, coming from a hillbilly,” Lexi replies. “But I’ll take it.”
I hold the envelope out to her. “For you.”
She doesn’t take it. “What’s this?”
I wiggle the envelope at her. “Another chance at impressing you, of course.”
“Oooh.” She takes the envelope and runs the edge underneath her nose without opening it, pretending to smell it. “Is it a personalized mortuary tour? I’m a fan of embalming.”
Her words make me think of Seth, but instead of the stab of pain I normally feel, there’s only a raw ache. “Nothing like that, I’m afraid.”
It must show on my face what I’m thinking about because her expression gentles. “I’m an asshole. Feel free to tell me to fuck off. That wasn’t cool of me.”
“You didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I do have to admit that most of my humor is macabre.”
“From a girl that wears all black? I’m shocked.” I shake my head and lean across the desk. “Though how someone like you ended up buddies with Natalie Weston, I don’t know. She’s very cardigans and cupcakes. You two don’t seem a match.”
“She’s just as lonely and out of touch with this town as I am.” Lexi shrugs and considers the envelope, then hands it back to me, unopened. “And I probably shouldn’t even look, because I might want it, and then it’ll be even more difficult to turn you down.”
And now I’m frustrated. “Is it me?” When she shakes her head, I consider the envelope before taking it back from her. “The timing?”
“The timing isn’t great,” she admits, and there’s a rather sad look in her eyes. In fact, all of her looks a little . . . defeated today. That’s not like my Lexi. I’m not sure what happened, but it’s like something’s sucked all the wind out of her sails, and it makes me even more determined to win her over. I want to know what’s gone wrong so I can fix it.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Nah. I’m fine.” But she doesn’t have that mischievous light in her eyes that she normally does, and that worries me.
“Is it the renovations?” I ask. Because that hole in the wall has to be there for a reason.
Her brows furrow and she gives me a confused look, and then realization dawns. “Oh no, not that. That was an accident. A client of mine had a bad misstep and ran into the wall.”
She says it so smoothly I wonder if she realizes I can tell she’s lying? It’s in the way she won’t look me in the eye, or
the way she won’t look over at the spot on the wall. She’s a little too glib about it.
Whatever it is that’s bothering her, though, it’s clear that Lexi doesn’t want to talk about it, and she’s not going to let me sway her. Time to turn up the heat a little. “So you don’t want the reservations, then?”
“Reservations?” Her head perks up.
“Yeah. Thought maybe if you weren’t doing much that you might want to get away. I’ll of course, compensate you for any classes you might have to reschedule if that’s going to be a problem.”
Lexi looks torn. “Much as I would love to get away right about now—and god, you have no idea how much—I really can’t. I’m sorry, Knox. It’s really sweet of you to come here and keep trying, but I shouldn’t—”
“You don’t even know where the reservations are for.”
Her wistful expression deepens. “It really doesn’t matter. I can’t go.”
“If money’s a factor—”
“Money’s always a factor, my friend.”
“Like I said, I can make up the difference of what you’d make in your classes. I just want you to spend some time with me. Get to know you better. Hear more about how the pregnancy is going.” It’s true, too. If she goes with me and all she wants to do is tell me about morning sickness and isn’t interested in touching, I’ll be fine with that, just as long as I get to spend time with her. For some reason, with Lexi, it’s not just about the physical—though I have to admit, the physical is pretty damned amazing. It’s that I love her personality. I love that dark mischief in her, the way she constantly tries to make the people around her uncomfortable. In a way, she’s like me. I steal things and sabotage to see if people are paying attention. With her flat voice and gothic demeanor, Lexi makes sure they pay attention.
She’s perfect, and I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.
Again she hesitates, but then shakes her head, declining once more. “I really can’t, Knox. I’m sorry. When I say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ I actually mean that.”
I refuse to be deterred. I study the envelope thoughtfully. “If that’s how it is, I guess that’s how it is. I’ll just call the owner over at the Old Pearson and tell him me and my friend won’t be making it after all—”
Her eyes go wide and she reaches over the desk and snatches the envelope out of my hands. “The Old Pearson? The Old Pearson? The one in Galveston?” She tears it open with shaking fingers.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” I’m secretly thrilled my present’s gettin’ such a reaction. I don’t know much about it, myself. I just Googled “most haunted hotels in Texas” and started callin’, askin’ for rooms. “Like I said, thought you might want to get away.”
She rips the printed confirmation out of the envelope and scans it, then groans and half collapses back onto her stool. “You rented out the entire fourteenth floor?”
“The owner told me that’s the most haunted one, yeah.”
“It is. That’s the floor where Bloody Louise shows up on full moons and where people hear ghost children moving up and down the hallway at night.” Her gaze fixes on me. “It’s legendary for its creepiness.”
“Do you promise to hold my hand if I get scared?” I say, using my best flirty voice. Ghosts ’n’ shit don’t scare me. Hell, I’d give anything to see my little brother Seth again, ghost or not. But if this is what rings Lexi’s bell, I’m game for it. I’ll hunt down every creepy place in Texas if that’s what it takes to get her back in my arms again.
The smile that curves her mouth is equally flirty, equally wicked. For a moment, she looks like she’s inches away from leaping across the counter again, and this time to tackle me. The hot stare she’s givin’ me promises so much that my own heart trips with anticipation . . .
And then just as quickly, her smile fades again. She looks down at the paper, and then carefully folds it back up once more. “I wish I could, Knox.”
Fuck. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Lexi. I can help.”
“You mean other than being pregnant?” One of those dark eyebrows arches. “Nothing’s wrong. The timing’s just shitty. Otherwise I’d love to go.”
That’s such a nonanswer that I cross my arms over my chest and let my stubbornness take over. “So you’re not going to tell me what’s really going on? Maybe I’ll just stick around here this afternoon until you wear down and tell me what the deal is.”
To my surprise, her face goes pale. She jerks up and looks at me with such terror that I’m stunned. What the fuck did I say to instill that sort of response in her? But just as quickly as the terror crossed her face, it’s gone. “You know what? I changed my mind. I’ll go. On one condition.”
Her sudden capitulation makes me suspicious. “Name it.”
She grabs her purse and flashes a brilliant smile at me. “That we go right fucking now.”
“Right now?” I can’t help but think this sounds too good to be true. Something’s up.
“Yep. Let’s just go.” She snags her keys and moves to the door and flips the CLOSED sign over, then opens the door and stands in it, waiting for me to get out of the studio. “Right now.”
“You . . . wanna go by your apartment and pick up some clothes or somethin’? I don’t know what one wears to a ghost hunt.”
“Whatever one wants. The ghosts aren’t critical of fashion.”
“Wasn’t talkin’ about the ghosts, Lexi. Don’t you want pajamas or a change of clothes or . . . I dunno, whatever chicks bring in their purses? Makeup? Tampons?”
She reaches out and pinches my cheek. “God, you’re adorable. I’m going to ignore that tampon comment. You do remember you got me pregnant, right?”
And then I can feel heat on my cheeks, because that was kinda stupid of me. I step out of the studio and into the parking lot, then turn and wait for her. “Right. That was dumb. To be fair, you’re the first woman I’ve ever gotten pregnant.”
“For some reason, I’m ridiculously happy to hear that,” she says drily, and closes the door behind me.
Lexi
This might be stupid, but I don’t care. I need to get away for a weekend. I’m sure Keith is going to lose his shit, but there’s a window and I’m taking it.
Here I was all tense that Knox showed up again, imagining how Keith would freak the fuck out and punch more holes in my wall . . . and then that fire truck raced past. I know he’s on it, since he’s on duty every weekday. That means I’m fucking free for a short period of time thanks to someone else’s miserable luck. That means he won’t know that Knox showed up, looking scrumptious and waving a weekend at a haunted hotel under my nose.
The entire fourteenth floor. Good god, the man knows how to woo a woman. I’m practically ready to shuck my panties just thinking about it. The fire truck was a sign. If Keith’s not going to know Knox was here, it’s the perfect time for me to get away. Keith’s been oppressive lately, so this is the chance I need to clear my head and think.
And, okay, there’s a haunted hotel thrown in.
And, okay . . . there’s a really hot fucking guy that eats pussy like there’s no tomorrow and he’s giving me steamy looks and I’m super knocked up and super full of randy hormones that want me to get laid. All of that’s a factor.
But really, it’s harder and harder for me to resist Knox, because I don’t want to. I love his determination, and the way he’s really trying to go out of his way to figure out what I need. I love that he wants to focus on me instead of just the baby right now. It makes me feel like I’m more to him than just a walking womb, and I appreciate that.
I don’t know what I’ll do with that thought, but it’s nice anyhow.
I didn’t bring any clothes, though. He suggested going back to my place, and I did briefly consider it, but someone in my building is bound to be spying for Keith. Everyone loves him and just thinks I’m weird. No one in this sh
itty little town is on my side. Nat was, but she moved away. I’ve felt very, very alone lately, and with Keith being oppressive, it’s just gotten worse and worse. The only times I don’t feel alone? When Knox is around.
I glance over at him in the cab of the truck. He’s all cocky confidence, sprawled in the front seat, his window down and one arm resting on the door. He’s got a toothpick between his teeth and gives it a little turn with his tongue every now and then. Not that I’m paying attention. But he looks older than his twenty-three years. And in personality? He’s as cynical as I am.
Of course, I can’t say those sorts of things to him. He’ll wonder why I’m studying him so very intently, and then it’ll get awkward. Well, even more awkward because just his nearness is making me squirmy with arousal. Thanks, pregnancy hormones. Like I needed soaked panties for a ghost-hunting trip.
I feel that heated flush move over my body when he immediately looks over at me. He’s paying attention to me despite keeping his focus on the road, so attuned that he notices the moment I glance over. Why is that so sexy? God, I am such a mess around him. “How come it’s so quiet? You don’t listen to the radio when you drive?”
Knox chuckles, his attention moving back to the road. He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “Music’s nice and all, but I’ve noticed that when you have it blaring, you miss a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“People’s cues, mostly. When it’s silent, I can pay a lot more attention to the person next to me and how they react during a conversation. People are way more interesting than songs, least to me.”
Huh. That makes sense in a strange sort of way. I’ve noticed Knox definitely studies people and files information away as if he’s writing a thesis on what makes them tick. He’s the most alert, watchful person I’ve ever met. I wonder what secrets of mine he’s picked up.
I’m not sure I want to know. “You feel the same way about phones? I’ve noticed you don’t text me. You just show up.” I make a flourish, as if gesturing to a door. “You just waltz right in without checking to see what my schedule looks like, or if I’m even there that day. A text or a phone call saves you a lot of trouble, you know.”
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