by Lucy Score
“That’s twenty grand in the pot, Naomi.”
I’d pushed the right button. She stopped staring at Lucian and looked at me as she started to come out of her chair.
Grim put a hand on her shoulder to hold her in place, and I fixed him with a cold glare.
“Fucking relax, Knox,” he said. “Winona’s right. It’s a friendly hand. No loans. No interest. She’s a quick learner.”
“Twenty-thousand dollars?” Naomi squeaked.
“I’ll call,” Tanner decided, throwing in his chips.
“Show ’em,” Grim growled, shoving a matching stack of chips into the center of the table.
Tanner lay down a shitty two pair. Lucian took his time arranging his cards before revealing a nice little straight.
“Uh-oh,” Winona hummed under her breath.
“Your turn, sweetheart,” Grim said, his face unreadable.
Naomi dropped her cards face-up on the table.
“I believe this is a bigger straight than yours, Lucian,” she said.
The table erupted in cheers. “You just won $22,000,” Winona told her.
“Holy shit! Holy shit!” Naomi looked up at me, and the joy on her face was a sucker punch to my windpipe.
“Congratulations. Now get your ass up,” I said, still capable of being an ass.
Lucian groaned. “Suckered in by those innocent eyes. Every damn time.”
I didn’t want him looking at her eyes or any other part of her. I pulled Naomi’s chair out for her.
“Wait! Do I get a victory dance? How do I pay everyone back?”
“You definitely get a victory dance,” Tanner said, lecherously patting his lap. Ian saved me the trouble and slapped him in the back of the head.
“Naomi. Now,” I said, hooking my thumb toward the door.
“Hold your horses, Viking.” She carefully counted out equal shares of the chips and started returning them to their original owners.
Grim shook his head and covered her hand with his tattooed one. “You won fair and square. You’re keeping the winnings and you can have my stake.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t,” she began.
“I insist. And when I insist, people do what I tell them.”
Naomi didn’t see a scary biker sort-of-criminal making that proclamation. She saw a cuddly, tattooed fairy godfather. When she tossed her arms around his neck and gave him a noisy kiss on the cheek, I saw the man actually smile. A feat previously thought to be impossible.
“For that reaction, you’ll keep mine as well,” Lucian said. Naomi whooped and rounded the table and kissed him loudly on the cheek.
Ian and Winona did the same and laughed through Naomi’s stranglehold hugs.
“Get that niece of yours something pretty,” Winona told her.
Christ on a cracker, exactly how much of her autobiography had she shared with them?
“I’m, uh, just gonna hang on to mine,” Tanner said, pulling back the chips he’d loaned her.
The rest of the table glared at him.
“Cheap-ass,” Winona said.
“Come on. It’s been a rough week,” he whined.
“In that case, here’s a tip from me,” Naomi said, handing over a $100 chip.
The woman was a sucker. And it looked like Tanner was officially in love.
“Ladies, gentlemen, what do you say we call it a night? I hear there’s a band out front tonight. We could steal one or two of Knox’s private bottles and reminisce about the good old days,” Ian suggested.
“Only if Lucy promises me a dance,” Winona said.
I waited until they’d cashed out and exited the room, leaving Naomi and me alone.
She looked up from the pile of cash they’d left in front of her. It was one hell of a tip. “Can we leave the lecture for tomorrow so I can just enjoy?”
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I’m driving you home tonight.”
“Fine. But you’re not allowed to yell at me on the drive.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
TWENTY-ONE
FAMILY EMERGENCY
Naomi
My feet were begging for a break, but the $20,000 in my apron gave me more than enough energy to face the final hour of my shift.
“Naomi!”
I spotted Sloane at a table in the corner with middle-aged biker babes and library board members Blaze and Agatha. Sloane had her hair pulled back in a perky ponytail and was wearing cut-offs and flip-flops. Blaze and Agatha were in their usual uniform of denim and vegan leather.
“Hey!” I greeted them with a spring in my step. “Out on the town?”
“We’re celebrating,” Sloane explained. “The library just got a big, fat grant that I didn’t even remember applying for! Not only does that mean we can start offering free community breakfasts and upgrade the second-floor computers, I can also officially offer you that part-time gig.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, elation rising inside me.
“As serious as a nun in detention,” Blaze said, slapping the table.
Sloane grinned. “It’s yours if you want it.”
“I want it!”
The librarian held out her hand. “Welcome to the Knockemout Public Library, Ms. Community Outreach Coordinator. You officially start next week. Come by this weekend, and we’ll talk about your new duties.”
I grabbed her hand and shook it. Then I hugged her. Then I hugged Blaze and Agatha. “Can I buy you beautiful, amazing ladies a round?” I asked, releasing a dazed-looking Agatha.
“A public librarian can’t say no to free drinks. It’s in the town charter,” Sloane said.
“Neither can us literary supportive lesbians,” Agatha added.
“My wife is right,” Blaze agreed.
I floated through the crowd on the dance floor and plugged in the order for my new bosses. I was thinking about the car I could now afford and the desk I wanted to buy Waylay for her room when Lucian appeared.
“I believe you owe me a dance,” he said, holding out his hand.
I laughed. “I guess it’s the least I can do since you let me win.”
“I never let anyone win,” he assured me, taking my tray and setting it at a table of lady horse farmers who didn’t seem to mind.
“That’s very mercenary of you,” I observed. The band shifted into a slow, twangy tune about lost love.
Lucian pulled me into his arms, and once again, I found myself wondering why Knockemout had such a large population of impossibly sexy men. I was also wondering what Lucian’s motive was for asking me to dance. He struck me as the type of man who never did anything without an ulterior motive.
“Knox and Nash,” he began.
I congratulated myself on being so astute. “What about them?”
“They’re my best friends. Their feud has run its course. I want to make sure it doesn’t get stirred back up.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Everything.”
I guffawed right in the man’s face. “You think I’m going to reignite some feud that I had nothing to do with in the first place?”
“You’re a stunning woman, Naomi. More than that, you’re interesting, funny, and kind. You’re worth fighting for.”
“Well, thank you for your kind but bizarre opinion. But you can rest easy knowing that Knox and I can barely stand being in the same room.”
“That doesn’t always mean what you think it means,” he said.
“He’s rude, mercurial, and blames me for everything.”
“Perhaps because you make him feel things he doesn’t want to feel,” Lucian pointed out.
“Like what? Murderous?”
“What about Nash?” he asked.
“Nash is the opposite of his brother. But I just got out of a long-term relationship. I’m in a new town trying to do what’s best for my niece, who hasn’t had the easiest life. There’s no time left on the clock to explore things with any man,” I said firmly.
“What started their stupid fire in the first place?” I asked.
“Stubbornness. Idiocy. Ego,” he said vaguely.
I knew better than to expect a straight answer from a man who was like a brother to the Morgans.
“Hey, Naomi! Can we add an order of—” Sloane cut off mid-sentence.
The petite blonde was staring open-mouthed up at Lucian like she’d just been sucker-punched. I felt Lucian’s entire body go rigid.
My heart sank with the realization that I’d somehow betrayed my new friend.
“Hey,” I said weakly. “Do you know—” My awkward introduction was unnecessary.
“Sloane,” Lucian said.
While I shivered at the ice in his tone, Sloane had the opposite reaction. Her expression went mutinous, and an emerald fire snapped in her eyes.
“Is there an asshole convention in town I wasn’t aware of?”
“Still charming as always,” Lucian snapped back.
“Fuck off, Rollins.” With that parting shot, Sloane spun around and marched toward the door.
Lucian still hadn’t moved a muscle, but his gaze was glued to her retreating back. His hands, still on my hips, gripped me hard.
“You about ready to unhand my waitstaff, Luce?” Knox growled behind me.
Startled, I yelped. There were too many pissed-off people in my vicinity. Lucian released me, gaze remaining on the door.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“He’s fine,” Knox said.
“I’m fine.”
It was clearly a lie. The man looked as though he wanted to commit a cold-blooded murder. I wasn’t sure who I should attempt to fix first.
“Dinner. Tomorrow,” he said to Knox.
“Yeah. Dinner.”
With that, he headed for the door.
“Is he okay?” I asked Knox.
“How the hell should I know?” he asked irritably.
The door opened just as Lucian got to it, and Wylie Ogden, creepy ex-police chief, stepped inside. The man flinched, then covered it—poorly—with a smirk when he saw Lucian in front of him. They stared at each other for a long moment before Wylie stepped sideways, giving him a wide berth.
“What in the hell was that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Knox lied.
Silver whistled from the bar and waved him over. Knox headed in her direction, swearing under his breath.
The guy was wound tighter than a mummy wrapped in Spanx.
“Did Sloane just leave?” Blaze demanded, arriving at my side with Agatha on her heels.
“Yeah. I was dancing with Lucian Rollins. She took one look at him and left. Did I do something wrong?”
Blaze blew out a breath. “That’s not good.”
Agatha shook her head. “Definitely not good. They hate each other.”
“Who could possibly hate Sloane? Isn’t she the nicest person in Northern Virginia?”
Agatha shrugged. “There’s some kind of sticky history between those two. They grew up next door to each other. Didn’t run in the same crowds or anything. No one knows what happened, but they can’t stand the sight of each other.”
I’d been caught dancing with my new friend/boss’s mortal enemy. Damn it.
I needed to make this right. At least ignorance was a plausible defense. I was already reaching for my phone when it started ringing.
It was Stef.
“Shoot. I have to take this,” I told the bikers. “Hey, is everything okay?”
“Witty, I’ve got bad news.”
My heart stopped and then stuttered to a start again. I knew that tone of voice. This wasn’t “we’re out of champagne and ice cream”—this was “family emergency.”
“What’s wrong? Is Waylay okay?” I plugged my other ear with my finger to hear over the band.
“Way’s fine,” he said. “But Nash was shot tonight. They don’t know if he’s going to pull through. He’s in surgery.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Some sergeant named Grave notified Liza. He drove her to the hospital. He’s sending someone to notify Knox.”
Knox. I found him through the crowd behind the bar, half smiling at something a customer said. He looked up and locked eyes with me.
My face must have telegraphed something because Knox vaulted over the bar and started pushing his way toward me through the crowd.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Stef said. “I’ve got Way here at Liza’s with all the dogs. We’re fine. You do whatever you need to do.”
Knox reached me and grabbed my arms. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I have to go,” I said into the phone and disconnected.
The front door opened, and I saw two officers in uniform looking grim. My breath hitched. “Knox,” I whispered.
“Right here, baby. What happened?”
His eyes were bluer in this light, searingly blue and serious as he held on to me.
I shook my head. “It’s not me. It’s you.”
“What’s me?”
With a shaking finger, I pointed at the officers making their way to us.
“Knox, we need to talk,” the taller one said.
I backed up the truck for the third time and pulled forward before finally being satisfied with my park job. The hospital rose in front of me like a glowing beacon. An ambulance unloaded a patient on a gurney at the emergency department entrance. Its light painted the parking lot in red and white.
I puffed out a breath, hoping it would settle the anxiety that was burbling in my stomach like a bad chowder.
I could have gone home.
I should have. But when I’d finished my shift, I drove towards the man who had tossed me his keys and told me to drive myself home. He’d made me promise before he’d followed the deputies out the door into the night.
Yet here I was at two a.m., disobeying direct orders and sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.
I should definitely go home. Yep. For sure, I decided, getting out of the truck and walking right on in through the front door.
Given the hour, there was no one sitting at the information desk. I followed the signs to the elevators and the Surgical Intensive Care Unit on the third floor.
It was eerily quiet on the floor. All signs of life were limited to the nurses’ station.
I started toward it when I spotted Knox through the glass in the waiting room, the wide shoulders and impatient stance immediately recognizable. He paced the dimly lit room like a captive tiger.
He must have sensed me in the doorway because he turned swiftly as if to face an enemy.
His jaw clenched, and it was only then that I saw the turmoil. Anger. Frustration. Fear.
“I brought you coffee,” I said, lamely holding up the travel mug I’d prepared for him in Honky Tonk’s kitchen.
“Thought I told you to go home,” he growled.
“And I didn’t listen. Let’s just move past the part where either one of us pretends to be surprised.”
“I don’t want you here.”
I flinched. Not at his words but at the pain behind them.
I put the coffee down on an end table stacked with magazines that pretended they could distract visitors from the endless loop of fear. “Knox,” I began, taking a step toward him.
“Stop,” he said.
I didn’t listen and slowly closed the distance between us. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Just get the fuck out of here, Naomi. Just go. You can’t be here,” his voice was ragged, frustrated.
“I’ll go,” I promised. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.” The words came out bitterly.
I raised my hand to lay on his arm.
He flinched away from me. “Don’t,” he said harshly.
I said nothing but stood my ground. I felt like I could breathe in his anger like it was oxygen.
“Don’t,” he said again.
“I won’t.”
“If you touch me right now…” He shook his head. “I’m not in control, Naomi.”
“Just tell me what you need.”
His laugh was dry and bitter. “What I need is to find the motherfucking bastard who did this to my brother. What I need is to rewind the clock so I didn’t waste the last however many years over some stupid fucking fight. What I need is for my brother to wake the fuck up.”
His breath hitched, and I had no control over my own body. Because one second I was standing in front of him and the next I was wrapping my arms around his waist, holding on and trying to absorb his pain.
His body was tight and vibrating as if he was seconds away from coming apart.
“Stop,” he said on a broken whisper. “Please.”
But I didn’t. I held on tighter, pressing my face to his chest.
He swore under his breath, and then his arms were around me, crushing me to him. He buried his face in my hair and clung to me.
He was so warm, so solid, so alive. I held on to him for dear life and willed him to release some of what he’d kept bottled up.
“Why don’t you ever fucking listen?” he grumbled, lips moving against my hair.
“Because sometimes people don’t know how to ask for what they really need. You needed a hug.”
“No. I didn’t,” he rasped. He was quiet for a long moment, and I listened to his heartbeat. “I needed you.”
My own breath tripped in my throat. I tried to pull back to look up at him, but he held me where I was.
“Just shut up, Daisy,” he advised.
“Okay.”
His hand stroked down my back and then up again. Over and over until I melted into him. I wasn’t sure which one of us was giving the comfort and which was receiving it now.
“He’s out of surgery,” Knox said finally, pulling back incrementally. His thumb traced my lower lip. “They won’t let me see him till he wakes up.”
“Will he want to see you?” I asked.
“I don’t give a fuck what he wants. He’s seeing me.”
“What was the fight about?”
He sighed. When he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, I swooned internally. “I don’t really feel like talkin’ about it, Daze.”