Erin took a look at the clientele. Not the type to take her yoga class, she surmised, at least not in their leather and fringe, club patches and colored bandannas.
Cass would find himself right at home here. Which made her wonder…
She cocked a brow at Knox. “Did Dad tell you about this place?”
“He mentioned it. Why?”
Glancing at the stack of bar mats on the table, the name of the bar finally sank in. The Stagecoach Stop—it had actually been one, once upon a time, or so her father had said. “This is where my mom and dad met.” She looked around again, as if she might find evidence of the occasion. Or of her mother, Suzie Cassidy, who had neglected to send a birthday greeting to her daughter this year.
“You okay?”
She shrugged and pasted on a smile. “Sure.”
“You remember much about your mom?” he asked.
“No.” Scrunching up her eyes, she tried grasping the tail of any elusive memory that flitted through her mind. “The sound of a distant laugh, maybe. Her lips on my hair for a goodnight kiss. You?”
He smiled a little. “I remember leaning against my mom as she talked to a friend. Her arm curled around me, pulling me in closer. And…”
“And?”
With his fingertip, Knox traced the scars etched into the worn tabletop. “I don’t eat ice cream.”
Erin’s eyes widened. “Oh?”
“When I was six, she went out for it one night and was killed by a new driver. I never had a taste for it after that.” A moment passed, then he cleared his throat. “So, how did Cass handle becoming a single man again? He didn’t remarry.”
“No. And he doesn’t talk much about my mom.”
Knox picked up his beer and watched Erin over the rim of his glass. “After my mother died, my dad didn’t talk about her—and he didn’t talk to his sons much, either. Dove into his media empire to make more piles of money and let us raise ourselves.”
“Maybe it’s good that working for him was a bust then.”
“Because…?”
“Was he a happy workaholic?”
Knox shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“If you’d stayed, maybe you would have turned out like him and lost your chance for a more satisfying life.”
“I do like happy,” Knox admitted. “And I don’t mind work…but on my own terms.”
“Not to mention men like your father make lousy husbands.”
He sent her a swift glance, and Erin felt heat rush over her face. “That’s right. You’re not interested in marriage,” she said, desperate for him to know she wasn’t hinting or hoping. God, that would be embarrassing. He’d think she was like the twenty-one-year-old fool she’d been, falling for any guy who’d kiss her, believing in forevers.
“What makes you say I’m not interested in marriage?”
“You told me. The first night we met.”
“Right.” He nodded. “But I guess you never know. I have six brothers who I assumed were confirmed bachelors, and now three of them are committed.”
“To an insane asylum?”
He laughed. “Now you sound cynical about matrimonial bliss.”
“Not in a general sense. Deanne and Marissa are moon-hopping happy. But for me… Now I don’t know if I could throw myself into the idea of a lifetime promise. And I’m sure I really couldn’t bear being left again.”
Tears stung her eyes as she recalled the dark disillusionment she’d felt, waking up alone in that motel room hundreds of miles from home. All her youthful optimism had evaporated the moment she understood she’d been abandoned by someone she thought loved her.
Knox’s hand reached out to cover hers.
Oh, God. Blinking rapidly, she slid her fingers from underneath his. “What a bore I’m being for a man who’s interested in fun and games.” He would not remember her as some weepy, emotional mess. “Tell me about…about your travel plans. Where are you off to tomorrow?”
She pasted on a cheerful, expectant expression and met his gaze. He was staring at her, an odd look on his face. Her stomach knotted. “Knox?”
He hauled in a breath. “I—”
Her phone buzzed. Putting up a finger to pause him, she pulled the device from her pocket and frowned at the caller’s name, then put it to her ear. “Deanne? You usually don’t call during work hours.”
Listening to her friend, a cold panic shot through her bloodstream.
“I’m there,” she said, lurching unsteadily to her feet. “As soon as I can.”
Standing too, Knox caught her before she tripped over her chair’s legs. “Erin?”
And something about the concern in his gaze and the firmness of his hold on her allowed her to become that weepy, emotional mess she’d decried a moment before. She moved into him, burying her face against his broad chest and clutching his sides. “Marissa’s in labor,” she said, her tears wetting the cotton of his shirt. “And it’s too soon.”
Knox found Erin’s anxiety contagious as they rode back to her place. He didn’t know much about pregnancy, but from the little she’d told him, her friend’s baby wasn’t yet fully cooked, and the doctors were trying to stop or stall the delivery process.
What that entailed, he had no idea, and, admitting to typical male squeamishness, refrained from asking for a fuller explanation.
As he turned into her driveway, he felt some relief. Erin had been asked to go to Marissa’s place to pick up a few things and bring them to the hospital. She could get on that now.
When they came to a stop, she quickly hopped off the bike and went to work on her helmet. But her fingers fumbled with the latch, and he moved to brush them away to take care of it himself. “You’re frozen,” he said, the chill of her skin registering.
Frowning, he rubbed her hands with his own, trying to warm them. “I don’t know if you’re in any shape to—”
“Just hurry and help me with the helmet,” she urged. “I want to get to the hospital as soon as possible.”
“Deanne said nothing is likely to happen, right?” Knox returned to working on unfastening the chin strap. “That’s the best-case scenario we’re hoping for.”
“I know, I know. But I’ll feel better once I’ve fetched the things Marissa wants and delivered them to her.”
Freed from the helmet, she shook out her hair and started jogging for the steps. “I need to grab my car key.”
Uncertain of his next move, Knox loitered by the motorcycle. In minutes she was back and she threw him a glance as she headed to her car.
“Sorry to run out like this,” she said. “And thank you for the motorcycle ride and the beer and…well, if I don’t see you again, thank you for all the rest, too.”
So this was the final goodbye? He hesitated, then the paleness of her face decided him. Striding to her, he pulled the key fob from her hand. “I’m driving. You look too upset to get behind the wheel, and it will give you a chance to call Deanne again.”
She opened her mouth and he leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips, silencing what he supposed would be a protest. “Get in the passenger seat,” he said, nudging her in that direction.
“Knox…”
He kissed her again, swift and soft. “Let’s go.”
Deanne reported no change in the situation as they traveled to Marissa and Tom Farmers’ house. Erin rushed to the front door and then went on tiptoe to grope at the top of one of the entry lights.
“I’ve got it,” Knox said, coming up behind her to reach the key balanced on top. “Quite the security system.”
“There’s an alarm,” she said, opening the door and heading to a nearby panel. “You need a code or the security company is alerted.”
“Let me guess,” Knox said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watched her fingers on the keypad. “It’s the digits of their wedding date.”
The quick glance she sent him was narrow-eyed, but he thought he detected a hint of laughter in the silver slits. “You’re annoy
ing.”
Anything to erase some of the worry from her beautiful face.
Then he followed her down a hallway. “What are we looking for?” he asked, peeking into doorways as they passed. “Looks like the contents of an entire baby boutique has been deposited in the laundry room.”
Erin backtracked and grimaced at the pile upon pile of little clothes and small bed—crib?—linens. “Marissa planned to pre-wash all these things, but she wasn’t feeling so great when I talked to her today. I should have known then…”
Knox drew a hand down Erin’s shiny hair. “You couldn’t have known. Now, what are we fetching?”
That got her on the move again. She gathered a book, a soft throw, knitting needles and yarn, a phone charger, and a hairbrush and put them into a canvas bag. A small satchel, apparently already packed, she handed to Knox. “The hospital bag.”
He cocked a brow.
“The things she’ll need if the baby does come.” Erin swallowed hard, the anxious expression back in her eyes.
“Okay,” Knox said, and slid an arm around her shoulders to bring her close again. He kissed the top of her hair. “What else?”
“Just a few snacks for Tom. He’s hooked on pistachios.” In the kitchen, Erin looked around with wide eyes. “Oh, Rissa.”
“Wow,” Knox said. “What’s going on?”
Dishes were piled on every inch of countertop. Rows of crystal stemware too. The kitchen table was covered with little figurines. He touched a miniature ceramic piece of toast standing beside a tiny ceramic over-easy egg. “Are these salt and pepper shakers?”
“She was washing them.” Erin took a last glance, then headed for a cupboard. “Apparently she got an itch to clean all these things.”
Ignoring the mess, she tucked some snack items in the canvas bag and then declared herself ready to go. Once again at the car, she paused. “I could take you back to collect the motorcycle or drop you off at the motel before I hit the hospital. I’m steadier now.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard the offer and returned to his place behind the wheel. “Directions?”
The waiting room in the maternity area wasn’t crowded. There, they ran into Rob, the uncle-to-be, and learned that Tom was with his wife and Deanne in Marissa’s room. A nurse pointed the way, and Erin hurried off, throwing a wan smile at Knox as she left.
In silence, he and the other man stared at the TV, while in the opposite corner a pair of older women paged through magazines.
“What’s on?” Knox asked, indicating the flat screen. The sound was muted, and men in dark suits wandered around dimly lit rooms. A detective show?
“I have no idea,” Rob said. “Just keeping my eyeballs occupied.”
As the minutes ticked by, Knox debated with himself. Erin had safely made it to her friend’s side, and he didn’t have a real purpose here, being neither family nor anything beyond a passing acquaintance of the parents-to-be.
This was a hospital, so a taxi might be lurking at the entrance. Or there had to be a local car service that would drop him off at Erin’s so he could retrieve the motorcycle. Rob would return Erin her car key.
Then tomorrow Knox could be on the Indian again, trying to resolve its mystery.
“Don’t mess with her,” the other man suddenly said.
Knox glanced over, to see Rob’s attention still focused on the show. Was he following the storyline, regardless of the lack of sound? “Um, pardon?”
“Erin’s special. Special to us. She hasn’t brought a man around before, you know. She’s not gone out in years.”
Rubbing the back of his fingers along his jaw, Knox slowly nodded. “Yeah. I got that. We’ve talked. But…we’re square, Erin and I. We know where we stand.”
At least he knew where she stood. Temporary was all I was looking for—even one night was enough.
His own stance was less decisive. What he thought he felt for her…well, was it real? Lasting? Actually the L-word? And even if he believed it was…would Erin?
Much simpler than answering those questions, he thought, running his palms along the thighs of his jeans, would be to get up, get out, get on his way. Let her go about her life, pre-Knox.
The one in which she didn’t trust that any man would stay. The one in which she didn’t think she could believe in any man’s lifetime promise.
Erin and Deanne walked into the waiting room and Knox found himself on his feet, Rob too.
“Well?” Rob asked. “Any news?”
His wife went to him, leaning against his side as his arm slid across her shoulders. “No change. They think they’ve got the contractions stopped but they could start up again at any time.”
“Marissa’s in pretty good spirits,” Erin said, and as if her legs were too tired to hold her up, dropped to the small couch where Knox had been sitting. “Or she’s holding it together for Tom.”
She glanced up at Knox. “Do you know any good knock-knock jokes?”
“What?”
“Because Tom’s are terrible, but I think they’re his coping mechanism. We’ve been groaning instead of chuckling.”
Knox sat beside her. “Give me a minute to think.” The urge to touch her, to offer her the comfort that Rob was giving Deanne swamped him. But he was halfway out the door, and he’d just been warned not to mess with Erin.
“Maybe I could share one of your pick-up lines instead,” she said. “That will make her smile. What have you got?”
Knox pursed his lips and put himself back at The Wake, listening to the bullshit that men tried on women. A wistfulness ran through him thinking of that comfortable, familiar place and the relaxed man he’d been behind the bar. Those were simpler, more carefree times—before he met yoga girl and found himself crowded with unfamiliar feelings and unwelcome doubts.
“Well?” she prompted.
He allowed himself to flick her cute nose with his finger. “How about this?” Clearing his throat, he gave her a comic leer. “Are you my appendix? Because I have a sudden gut feeling I should take you out.”
Her eyes flared wide as she hooted. “You’re a genius. It even has that medical angle.” She jumped to her feet, full of energy again, then bent to buss his cheek. “Let’s go, Deanne.”
The two women hurried off, Knox and Rob staring after them.
The other man took his seat and stretched out his long legs. “It’s really hard for them right now, with Marissa having this hiccup in what otherwise has been a healthy pregnancy.”
Knox glanced over. “The three are close.”
“Very. But it’s not just that.” Rob shoved one hand through his hair and then the other. “It’s why we’ve held back on notifying any of our parents about what’s going on. Rissa’s live across the country now, but my mom and dad are local, and they’re in the dark at the moment. We don’t need to ratchet up the worry level.”
Ominous.
“If you’re keeping it so private, maybe I shouldn’t be here,” Knox said, uneasy. Christ, why hadn’t he left? “I didn’t know—”
“Erin didn’t say, then?”
“No.”
Rob studied the toes of his running shoes. “Our cousin’s wife—my and Tom’s cousin—was pregnant with her first child. She was a friend of our trio too, and four months ago she went into labor right when the doctor predicted. Thumbs-up.”
“But…?” Because there was clearly a but.
“During delivery, she started seizing—an aneurism.”
“Oh, God.”
“They managed to save the baby, but my cousin lost his young wife on the very same day his child was born.”
Oh, God.
“So, see,” Rob continued, “we’re all a little…agitated.”
Before Knox could respond—and how should he respond?—Erin and Deanne were back.
“Another doctor check,” Deanne said.
Erin stood just inside the waiting room, her arms wrapped around her waist. Holding herself, because she likely didn’t trust that a
nyone else would.
Well, screw that, Knox thought, rising. His strides ate up the distance between them, and he yanked her into his arms, fitting her head underneath his chin.
“I’ve got you,” he said. She shivered, and he tightened his hold. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
“I don’t know how to stand this,” she said to his shoulder. “Marissa looks tired, and I think she’s about to go to sleep—they’re keeping her at least overnight—and Tom will stay in her room. She told us all to go home, but I’ll go crazy there.”
He directed Erin toward the couch and sat, cradling her in his lap. Comforting her, even though it reassured him as well to have her close. He laid his cheek on the top of her hair and tried for slow and steady breathing. “Just relax,” he said again.
“I don’t know if I can,” she murmured. He could feel the tension humming in her body. “She’s insisting we leave, but I won’t know what to do.”
Knox considered that. “Hmm,” he said, after a moment. “I think I might have an idea.”
She glanced up at him.
He kissed her nose. “Trust me.”
Chapter 9
Wide-eyed, Erin looked at Knox as they pulled into the driveway of Marissa and Tom’s house once again. It was dark now, but the landscape and entry lights glowed. “You want to eat Chinese take-out here?” They had two bags of the fragrant stuff in her lap, bought from her favorite local place, The Jade Inn.
“I thought once we took care of our appetites, we might take care of all that restless energy of yours.”
Okay, she didn’t think he meant they’d have sex at her friends’ home, and she didn’t think he meant for her mind to go in that direction, but it did. Bending her head to hide her blush, she gathered up the bags of food.
He came around the car to open her door and grab them from her. “Let me,” he said, then led the way to the front door.
Still puzzled about his intentions, she let him unlock the door with the hidden key. Crossing to the alarm panel, she punched in the code. “I don’t know if we can find any space to eat in the kitchen,” she said, remembering the dishes—everyday and fancy china—the glassware, and the salt and pepper shakers spread over every surface.
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