by Erika Kelly
“I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come so fucking hard.” His fingers shifted to the back of her head, holding her in place, while he released in short, hard thrusts.
She sucked and licked, drawing out his climax, and she was rewarded with animalistic sounds and the twisting of his hips.
He let out a harsh exhalation, before letting her go and sliding out of her mouth. “Jesus. You’re going to kill me.” He fell back onto the bed.
“It’s a good way to go, though, right?” She got in beside him.
“The best.”
“Come on. Get under the covers.”
“I can’t feel my toes.”
In the cover of dark, she eased off the bed and lowered to a crouch. His legs hung off the mattress, elevating his feet. She gathered a lock of hair and brushed the strands over his bare soles.
He jerked. “Okay, okay.”
“You said you were numb. Just making sure you’re all right.”
She loved the rumble of his sleepy laughter. He reached for her and hauled her onto the bed. They both got under the covers, and his big arm wrapped around her, enfolding her in his heat and strength.
It didn’t take long for his breathing to even out, and his muscles to slacken.
But she was wired and knew she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. Gently, she lifted his arm from her waist.
“Hey.” He sounded adorably sleepy. “Where you going?”
“Go to sleep. I’ll be back in a bit.”
His head popped off the pillow, and he squinted at her. “What’s wrong?”
It would have been so easy to say, Nothing, but she didn’t want that kind of relationship with him. “I’m scared.”
“You think Robert’s going to screw us over?”
“You know, you always think it’s Robert who’s got the power to hurt me the most, but you’re wrong.”
“Wrong?” He sat up, shoving the hair off his face. His powerful body belied his confused, boyish expression. “What’re you talking about?”
As a kid, she’d gotten the concept of love all wrong. What she had with Robert was loyalty, obligation, guilt. Because he was her boyfriend, she’d forced the jumble of powerful emotions to fit in a box labeled love.
But with Gray, she had respect, awe, gratitude, affection…it was love. Pure and simple. How did she know? Because losing Robert had made her feel guilty. Losing Gray had ruined her. “It’s you.”
“Me?”
“You think I left town because prom night was my wake-up call, but it had nothing to do with Robert crashing into a plate glass window. There was absolutely nothing new about that.”
“Then what was it?”
“It was you leaving me. You were the one constant in my life. The one person who seemed to like me unconditionally. No matter how hard people tried to humiliate me, no matter how many times I lost my shit over where Robert was or what he was doing, how hard I took it when I got a rejection letter from Parson’s, you were always there. You were the only barrier between me and loneliness. Until you weren’t. Until I was so twisted that you couldn’t stand me one more second.”
“That’s not why I left.”
“Yes, it was, and you don’t have to lie about it. You didn’t leave because you were in love with your best friend’s girlfriend. You’d put up with that for years. You left because I disgusted you. And that was the coldest, harshest wake-up call I could have gotten.” She got out of bed, too upset to lay beside him. Because in a week, he’d leave for New Zealand, while she took off for New York.
And she was terrified to lose him all over again.
“It gutted me,” she continued. “I didn’t think I’d ever recover. I felt shame and…horror. I couldn’t even live in my own skin. My mom was working on the ranch, so she wasn’t around, Robert was in rehab, and you were gone, so all I had was myself, and I thought if I didn’t change my life I would die. So, I left. Packed my suitcase, got on a bus, and moved to New York, where I could grow a new skin.”
“You got it wrong.” He shifted to the edge of the mattress, elbows on his knees, gazing up at her with an earnest expression. “I was disgusted with me. All those years I saw myself as the outsider looking in. But that night, I realized that I was as caught up in my relationship with you as you were with Robert, and I needed to cut myself off. I needed a clean break. When you wouldn’t come with me, I got that you’d never be mine, and so I left.” He stood up. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I honestly thought you wouldn’t even notice, that you’d be so invested in Robert’s rehab and in keeping him clean, that you wouldn’t even notice I was missing.” He stroked the hair off her face.
“Robert was my job,” she said. “He was responsibility, and that was fueled by the terrible guilt that if I took my eyes off him, he might die, and I couldn’t live with that. You, you were my happy place. You made me laugh and listened to my dreams and fears. You were everything good. And when you left me, my world went dark. I have never been so scared in my life. Not as a teenager alone in New York City or a young woman in Paris for her first job, not when Luc stole my sketchbook, and not when Amelia drove into my living room. The worst day of my life was when I understood you were gone for good. And I’ll be honest with you. Deep down, I’m not sure I believe you’re going to stay this time.”
Chapter Sixty
Knox stood in the parking lot, leaves skittering across the asphalt in a crisp autumn breeze, and watched the truck spew exhaust as it turned onto the highway. Every time she blinked, she saw the profusion of tulle, organza, and lace imprinted on her eyelids.
Her dresses were headed to New York.
I’m doing this.
It’s happening.
She was so giddy with excitement she wanted to scream.
The wrong arms came around her from behind and lifted her off the ground. “It’s done, baby. We’re on our way to Bridal Fashion Week.” Robert set her down and opened his arms, but when she didn’t step into them, he faltered.
“You have to cut it out. We’re not together. I’m with Gray, and you can’t call me ‘baby’ or touch me like that.”
“Pretty sure he can handle a hug between old friends, but whatever. You can be excited from over there.” He grinned broadly. “And I’ll do it right here. Because, honey, it is on.”
“I can’t believe it.” She pressed her hands together. “I just can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. It’s real. We did this. We made it happen.”
“No, you did. I’d put it in my rearview mirror.” He’d gotten fifteen models, really good stylists and make-up artists, and even some of the best influencers. In the space of a few weeks, he’d pulled it all together.
“Hey, good news. I was able to move up our flight.”
“What are you talking about?” That dimmed her mood.
“Did some smooth talking with the airline to get us on a flight the day after tomorrow.”
That would mean leaving Gray two days earlier. She’d counted on that time. “I don’t know that I can leave before Friday. I’ve got so much to do before then.”
Robert bent his knees to look her in the eyes. “Three words. Bridal. Fashion. Week.”
“I know, but…”
“We have to fit the dresses to the models. And I know you want to be there while the florist sets up the space.”
He’s right. “I do.” Besides, she and Gray were strong. They’d only be apart ten days. She let out a breath. “No, you’re right. This is good.” She was about to launch her career, and she was worried about spending two extra days with her boyfriend?
The whole world is waiting to see this collection, Knox.
Word had spread, so Luc would know about her show by now. Would he try to ruin it? I mean, for goodness’ sake, he called Calamity’s town hall.
Okay, but really, what’s the worst he can do? She knew that answer. Claim ownership of her collection. Her word wouldn’t stand a chance against The House of Bellerose.
“You can trust Amelia and Za
ch to take care of things here.”
“Of course. No, it’s all good. Can you send me the booking information? I might try and see if Gray can come.”
“What? No. He’s got a competition next week. Don’t do that to him. You know if you ask him, he’ll come. He needs to get in the zone.”
“You’re right. I’m being selfish.”
“These competitions are life-or-death, and you can’t perform when you’re distracted. It’s ten days. You do your thing, he’ll do his, and then you’ll be back together like I never happened.”
The night of her going-away party, Knox sat curled up in a chair, a glass of wine in her hand, as the flames from the fire pit cast an orange glow on the patio.
The Bowie brothers stood talking to each other, Callie nestled in the shelter of Fin’s arms, and Delilah sitting on a low wall, one hand in Will’s back pocket. The crack of pool balls reminded her that Gray’s posse was inside, and that they’d become more than work associates to her.
The fire crackled, wine warmed her blood, and the hum of conversation and laughter made her feel utterly content.
Gray parted from his brothers and dropped into the chair beside her. He patted his lap. “Come here, beautiful.”
She curled up on him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you.”
“We’ll talk every day.”
“It’s not the same. Promise me we won’t drift apart.”
“Are you kidding me?” He tipped her chin. “I first laid eyes on you in Mrs. Flint’s kindergarten class. I remember to this day the funny feeling I got just from looking at you. That night at dinner, I told my mom I was worried about my heart because I’d felt it flip over. My asshole brothers teased the shit out of me, so I never brought it up again. But, by the time I was ten, every time I saw you or talked to you or got anywhere near you, my heart got too big for my chest. I didn’t know what it meant. It was just a physical reaction to you. And then, when I was thirteen, you got out of the lake in your bikini and my dick went hard.”
She grinned at him.
“Yeah, real funny when you’re surrounded by little kids and parents and guys from school. But you came right over to me and sat down, blabbing away, and I couldn’t hear anything because my heart was thundering, and I thought I was going to die.” He shifted, holding her in both his big, powerful arms. “I finally figured it out.”
“Figured what out?”
“You’re my heart.”
Her skin pebbled and went hot at the same time.
“So, ten days or ten years…makes no difference,” he continued. “Nothing can ever change my feelings for you.” He kissed her, slow, sexy, and achingly sweet. Then, reaching for her hand, he pressed it to his chest. “Because you’re right here.”
She flung her arms around his neck. “There’s nowhere else I want to be.” Her mouth turned toward his ear. “Ever.”
And she’d do whatever it took to stay there.
The art gallery two blocks south of Houston Street was the coolest Knox had ever seen. With music blasting and the florist and his team setting up the English garden, she’d never felt closer to her dreams.
Wishing Gray could be here, she pulled her phone out of her tote and shot a quick video of the scene and sent it to him.
“What’re you doing?” Robert asked. “We don’t want anyone to see our set.”
“It’s just for Gray.”
“Cool. Just make sure he doesn’t show it to anybody. Then, again, he doesn’t know anyone in our world. You up for some good news?”
“Always.”
He showed her the screen of his phone. “Check it out.”
It was an email. Subject: Knox Holliday Show. She skimmed, trying to get the gist. Someone was coming to her show. Who? Robert’s finger tapped the From box.
Jack Abrams. Her body exploded with adrenaline. She read the message again. Just four words. Would like to attend. She whipped around to him. “You invited Jack Abrams?”
“Babe, I invited everyone I was told mattered. He was top of the list.”
“Yeah, but he’s not an influencer. How did you know about him?”
“His name kept coming up.”
“I can’t believe this.”
He held her gaze. “This is it, Knox. Your ticket to couture. He’s going to see your dresses and lose his shit. He’s going to offer you a contract. You’re going to be a designer with Jack Abrams Couture.”
“Thank you so much. I’m so happy.” Amidst the noise and chaos, the anxiety and nerves, she sank into the arms of the man who’d held such a huge part of her childhood.
And who’d been the one to deliver her dream as an adult. Full circle.
“You know I’d do anything to change what I put you through.”
She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold. She saw what he needed, and she gave it to him. “I know. I forgive you.” But he didn’t look in any way relieved. “You’ve made up for it, believe me.”
“But I haven’t. Nothing can erase the hell I put you through. You were the best girlfriend ever. The best friend, and I treated you like shit. I just want you to know—not that it helps—but it was the drugs treating you like shit. It wasn’t me. If I were in my right mind, I would’ve listened to you. I would’ve stopped hanging out with those assholes. I would’ve stopped filling my body with poison.” He let out a huff of breath, color rising in his cheeks. “I would’ve been a better man for you.”
She’d never seen him so overcome with emotion. He’d learned as a kid not to show any—his mom hadn’t been around, his dad couldn’t handle anything, and his nannies didn’t care. So, to see him experiencing real, deep, true remorse…it meant he’d really changed. She rubbed his arm. “We can’t change the past. It’s over and done. What we have is the present.” She pulled away and gestured to the room. “And this is what we’ve done together.”
“We make an awesome team. You know, I’m not looking for us to get back together—I know you’re with Gray—but if there’s a place for me at Jack Abrams with you, I want it. Swear to God, Knox, I’ll bust my ass for you.”
“I have a feeling Granger’s is going to hire you full-time, and that’s your legacy. That’s where you belong.”
He shrugged. “But if it doesn’t work out that way, then think about hiring me, okay?”
That wouldn’t happen. For many reasons, but mostly because of Gray. “One step at a time, right? Let’s hope they fall in love with my dresses.”
“They will. Guarantee it.”
Everything was in place.
Now, all she needed was for Luc not to undermine her.
The four brothers stood in the empty expanse of living room, taking in all its…starkness. Gray breathed in the scent of fresh paint in the newly-built house.
“Gotta say, there’s a lot of light.” Hands planted on his hips, Will glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lap pool in the tiny backyard.
The marble floor looked shiny as a frozen lake. What the hell were they doing here? Brodie would never go for a house like this. It did, though, make him wonder if Knox would ever live in the house he’d built. He had no idea what had possessed him to take her there. She had to have seen it in his eyes, what he wanted. He’d jumped the gun on that one.
She’d texted him the good news about Jack Abrams coming to her show. If she got that contract—which she would—where would she set up shop? New York, most likely.
Did he want to live in New York City? Not really, but he’d go. No idea what he’d do there, but it wasn’t like he’d break up with her. They could have houses in both places.
“What happens in a hailstorm?” Fin drifted into the kitchen, all white and chalkboard gray. “What is all this?”
Gray followed him in to find a platter of mini quiches, four wine goblets, and two bottles of red wine. “The real estate agent set this up?”
“I guess so.” Brodie came in from the terrace.
“Watc
h out,” Will called. “Or she’ll wind up as your future wife.”
The guys burst out laughing, forcing Brodie to look up from his phone. “Huh?”
“We came here for you,” Gray said. “You might want to get your head out of your ass and look around.”
“You wanted me to look into three-D modeling.”
“Not now,” Gray said. “We’re looking at houses.”
“I thought Knox doesn’t want to do the digital platform,” Fin said.
“She’ll change her mind.” Brodie tapped out a text. “I’ve reached out to some people. Got someone whose work I really like.”
“So you’re not just a visionary,” Gray said. “You’re a psychic, too?”
“Writing’s right there on the wall for anyone to see,” Brodie said. “It’s the future of her industry.”
Gray knew it made sense, given the digital world they lived in, but Knox had a dream, and she’d stop at nothing to achieve it. He turned to his older brother. “You want to live in town?”
“We’re just getting started,” Brodie said. “And she’s showing me what’s on the market in my price range.”
Fin stood in front of the sink, looking out the window to the neighbor’s house. “You can’t walk around naked.” He glanced behind him. “Which eliminates a lot of fun activities.”
“Ones that involve countertops,” Will said.
“And walls,” Gray added.
“And kitchen tables.” Will picked up a quiche and sniffed.
“What’re you assholes talking about?” Brodie said.
Fin gestured toward the living area. “The agent obviously wants you to buy this house.”
“I told you she’s showing me lots of places.”
“And does she set out quiches and wine in all of them?” Will asked.
Brodie stared at the offending items, almost like he’d just found out a Russian spy had planted them to get intel on him. “No.” He slapped the quiche out of Will’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
As they headed out, Gray took a picture of the food and the house and sent it to Knox. Brodie’s future home.