by Harms, C. A.
I close my laptop, feeling like my trip down memory lane only managed to make me feel even more isolated. Climbing off my bed, I open my refrigerator and grab the bottle of wine, pouring myself a glass. As I walk back, I reached behind me to unzip my dress, feeling it pool around my shoulders. One arm at a time I lower the straps, then allow the silky material to glide over my body and fall to the floor.
The dark blue color of Knoxville’s card jumps out in bright contrast to the cream comforter on my bed. Against my better judgement, I open my laptop once more and type in his website address.
The first thing I see is a view of a large office building with floor-to-ceiling windows. I was expecting a small little rinky-dink office, hidden in the shadows.
Scrolling down, I run across a picture of Knox and pause, taking the opportunity to really look at him. He truly is a magnificent man; he has every single feature I have ever found appealing about a man. Holly was right; there is nothing boyish about him. Knoxville Montgomery is all man.
Chapter Eight
Knoxville
“And who’s idea was this again?” Beckett complains as he flops into the chair at the large conference table in Ashton’s office. He looks like he’d barely slept; my guess is he’d been up all night on a case.
“Knox.” Ashton chuckles when Lex places a cup of coffee in front of Beck and takes advantage of his exhausted state. The man honestly smelled my brother, breathing deeply, and even closes his eyes as if to relish in the aroma.
“Smell me again, Lex, and I will toss your sparkly ass out the window.” Beck doesn’t even look at him, just lifts the coffee mug and takes a sip.
“You should know by now that your threats don’t scare me, Beckett,” Lexington taunts. “They only excite me more.”
He gets such a rise out of Beck, and I know that is why he continues teasing him the way he does. My youngest brother will never learn to not react. The calm and collect factor does not exist in the youngest Montgomery; he is an “act now and suffer the consequences later” kind of guy. It bites him in the ass every time.
“Okay, so we have less than two weeks to wrap this thing up.” I wave my hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed at this point. “I was going low key for this anniversary party, but Lex here decided to take matters into his owns hands.”
“Oh hell,” Beckett grumbles as he allows his head to rest on top of his arm that is on the table top. “We are going to be trapped in shimmery fucking hell if you let this frilly princess plan the party. I imagine bubbles, pink table cloths, and sparkling shit everywhere. It won’t be an anniversary party, it’ll be a fucking tutu convention.”
Beckett is most definitely in a mood, yet I do nothing to intervene when Lexington squares his shoulders for yet another standoff with Beck.
“I’ll have you know the table cloths are a champagne tone and the accent of choice is not pink. It is lavender to honor your mother’s favorite color.” He follows up his words with a sassy little shake of his head. “And though I adore sparkles, I am fully aware that this party is not in my honor, so the glitter and silvers have been laid to rest. But I do love the idea of bubbles. I may have to work those in somewhere.”
Again Beckett mumbles something, only this time I don’t quite catch it before he stands, forcing his chair to create a screeching sound. “I haven’t slept in close to thirty-eight hours. I need to get out of here. Just send me a list of the shit I need to do, and I’ll get it done. For now, I’m gone.”
The three of us remain seated as we watch him exit. Once he’s out of earshot, Lexington adds one last “Ode to Beckett” tribute. “That man is feisty. I bet he is a dynamo in the bedroom too.”
Ashton doesn’t seem fazed by Lexington, and all I can do is shake my head. There is never a dull moment when he is around.
* * *
The last week has been a whirlwind, led by Lex himself.
I step inside the Manhattan penthouse Lexington booked for my parents’ anniversary party and am immediately speechless. It truly is breathtaking. He’d been so precise with every tiny detail, so particular with the setup of the tables, chairs, the dance floor, everything. He’d spent weeks on this event, and I have to hand it to him—he'd killed it.
“I think Lex missed his calling, brother.” I nudge Ash’s shoulder. “He should have been a party planner.”
“He would drive all his clients crazy,” Ashton mumbles, looking down at his phone and typing a message to god knows who. He lifts his head, places his phone inside his jacket pocket, and finally looks around the space. “The man is a pain in the ass on his good days. He’d drive every vender to the point of blacklisting him, then he’d be forced to cater out of his own kitchen and throw every event in the backyard of his condo.”
“You seem to manage him just fine.”
“No,” Ash offers me a flat look, his lips pressed in a tight line, his brow cocked. “My wife manages him. I tolerate him for her because whatever makes my woman happy—”
“Makes you happy,” I finish for him. I’d heard the same line from both him and Beckett more times than I can count.
Ashton chuckles and places his hand on my shoulder. “One day brother, one day.” He leaves it at that, but he doesn’t have to elaborate, I understand. The conversation forces my thoughts to fall back to the spitfire who has had my mind a little boggled. Tinley is most definitely a mystery, one I can’t seem to solve.
I keep reminding myself that I would see her in just a few short hours. It makes this event even more anticipated. Hell, it was the core of this idea from the start. I was eager to see her again after my brother’s wedding and wanted a chance to break down her defenses. Now after the scene in the bar, the one that left me even more intrigued, I want six p.m to be here even faster.
“Earth to Knoxville.” I’m pulled out of my thoughts to find Ashton looking at me as though I've lost my mind. “You feeling okay?” He smiles knowingly, but I choose not to give him anything further than a simple nod before walking toward the center of the space and gaining some distance.
I don’t get worked up over women; I never have. Don’t get me wrong: I’ve dated and dipped my toes into the relationship status, but I’ve never fallen for the games that are involved. I remain aloof, showing no signs of willingness to be strung along. I never went out of my way to meet a woman, or to pamper them. Not that I wouldn’t if the right woman came along, but until now that woman had not existed for me.
I just couldn’t shake the feeling that Tinley had a story behind her distance. I couldn’t let go of the wanting to know more. In the end, I might be shaking my head and telling myself I am a fucking fool, but for now, I’ll take whatever I can get.
Even if it is her continuing dismissal.
I was never one for easy.
Chapter Nine
Tinley
“Who knows? Maybe we’ll get another one of those tips we got from the last big event.” Pam shrugs as she lifts a tray of champagne and exits the small kitchen into the party. Those tips, the ones she is referring to, are few and far between. I hope she isn’t counting on it as a repeat.
“You’re on the floor again.” Walter offers me an apron with the company logo on it and points toward the double swinging door. “You cover the right side of the party, Macy will cover the left.”
Again with the handsy men, women who offer nothing but dirty looks when they find their men staring, and barks of, “Hey miss, I need another.” I want to express to Walter my irritation in his choice of my placement, but I can’t risk pissing him off. I need the money from this event to pay my rent next Tuesday.
So instead I tie my apron around my waist, paint on my fake, I’m so happy to be here smile, and I exit out the same door as Pam had only moments ago. There are woman dressed in elegant gowns, those I’d never have the money to afford, and men in tailored suits. So many beautiful people, smiling and laughing around me.
Here comes the Ice Queen, I think to myself, and roll my eyes. I am a bitt
er, closed-off version of my old self, and part of me wants to be that relaxed person I once was. I just can’t seem to let go of the thoughts in my mind that continue to remind me of what happened to that girl when she grew too lax.
I walked toward the right side of the room and a man with silver hair lifted his hand to beckon me. Squaring my shoulders, I put in place my “glad to be here” smile and walked in his direction. “What can I get for you, sir?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I fought the urge to roll my eyes, “there’s no need for this sir nonsense. You call me Stan, and this is my wife, Sara.” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t an old man looking to hit on a younger girl. The woman at his side is half his size, with the kindest eyes as she offers me a gentle smile. “I believe the company you work for catered the wedding of my oldest son and his wife last month.” He gestures opposite him and his wife, and I notice the couple standing there. The woman is gorgeous, wearing a long blue gown and the man is stunning too, in a tux that looks like it was made specifically for him.
“Ashton and Kinsley Montgomery,” the attractive gentleman offered with a nod. It doesn’t escape my attention how he reaches out to pull his wife in toward his body, and how she smiles up at him lovingly.
“I remember,” I finally speak. “It was a beautiful event.”
I feel so frumpy in comparison to these people; they are the epitome of perfection.
“And the rest of my family.” Stan holds out his hand just as another man steps up to join us, holding firmly onto the hand of yet another gorgeous woman with long blonde hair and a perfect smile. What the hell is this family drinking? Jesus, they are all so attractive. “My son, Beckett, and his fiancée, Shanelle.”
I smile, feeling strange that I’ve been given such a wide introduction when I am simply here to serve them drinks. “Then we have my other son.” Stan sweeps his hand in the direction behind me and I immediately look over my shoulder, instantly feeling like the floor dropped beneath my feet. Stan is still speaking, only he sounded hazy. My tongue feels three sizes too big, and my heart feels as though it may literally beat right out of my chest.
Knoxville Montgomery.
As in the man who not once, but twice has made me question my need to remain hard and unaffected. He is the first man to affect me at all since Rob. I am not sure yet how I feel about that.
“Um…” I finally forced myself to move, shifting my eyes away from Knoxville and back to the man I now knew as his father. “It was truly great to meet all of you.” I could hear the unsteady shake in my voice, and I want to kick myself for allowing Knox to get to me. I don’t have to look at him to know he is still watching me; I can feel it, feel the heat his presence alone is causing inside me. The collar on my shirt felt like it was strangling me.
“What can I get all of you to drink?” I do my very best to maintain my composure, but with each passing second it is growing more and more difficult.
Stan took it upon himself to order. “Four whiskeys for me and my boys, and three Moscatos for the ladies.”
“Make that two,” says the blonde woman to the left of the big burly guy, I believe it was Beckett, who looked almost intimidating as Knox. “I’ll just have an ice water with lemon.” I nod, though I notice all eyes are on her. She smiles shyly as she leans in closer to the man at her side. He gives her a look, one of confusion, or maybe understanding, before his mouth opens slightly.
“Really?”
She nods and I feel I am intruding on a private family moment. I back away slowly, but not before I see the man wrap her in his arms and whisper something in her ear. It is a sweet moment really, one that melts me just a little.
A loud squeal leaves the older, but quite beautiful woman, and it’s safe to say the news that is shared is pure joy.
Taking in a deep breath, I try to clear my thoughts as I walk toward the bar to obtain their drinks.
Placing my order with Ricardo, I looked down at my feet and give myself a pep talk. It seems to be working as my chest feels a little less tight with each passing second. That is until I feel someone at my side, someone I shouldn’t already be able to recognize by his manly scent alone, a cologne that screams power and pure sex.
“We continue to run into one another.” Deep husky words are spoken a little higher than a whisper. “Now call me crazy, but it feels like someone is trying to tell us something.”
"And what’s that?” I spin around to face him and instantly regret it. I’m in his space, so close I can see the speckles of brown mixed in his blue eyes. I swallow hard, harder than I intend to and his gaze shifts to the span of my neck.
“Maybe that you should let me take you out to dinner.”
“You get that from this.” I pointed my finger upward at the side of my head and twisted it, indicating where we are. “But I just say it’s a coincidence, eventually I’ll fade, and you'll have someone else to hassle.”
He grins, not that cocky arrogant grin that makes my blood run cold, but one of pure humor.
“You are by far the most difficult woman I have ever met."
“Why? Because I won’t fall at your feet and pant?”
He remains quiet, just allowing his gaze to roam over my face. I feel that earlier heat return and attempt to step back only to bump into the chair behind me.
“I don’t want you to fall at my feet. In fact, I prefer the company of a woman who makes me work for her attention.” Something in his eyes seems to soften and he leans over, placing his elbow on the bar top. “I’m not a bad guy, Tinley.”
“That’s what they all say,” I mumble and close my eyes, chastising myself for letting my thoughts be heard.
“Dinner,” he says, more cautiously than before, “in a very public place. I’ll meet you because I really doubt you’d let me pick you up. Nothing more, only the chance to show you that I’m one of the good ones. Simple conversation between two people while we enjoy a nice meal.”
Ricardo places the tray on the bar and I look away from Knox, needing something else to focus on. It would be so easy to say no, so easy to throw another one of my icy remarks his way and hope that one makes him turn away for good. But the idea of him doing so suddenly makes me feel nervous.
“We can even make it a double date.” I reach out for the tray and shoot him another look. He is really shooting for the fence. “Your friend from the other night, hell, my brother and his wife, I don't care. As long as you agree to dinner, I’ll take what I can get.”
Why does he have to be so attractive? Or so determined to prove he is genuine? I look over his shoulder and notice his brother and mother are both looking our direction.
“I think it is safe to say they’ve figured out that I’ve found someone I’m interested in.” Taking in a deep breath I shift my gaze back to Knoxville and narrow my eyes. He offers a genuine laugh that I’m unable to resist, and I feel a smile tug at my lips. “My mother is very much into finding the perfect woman for each of her sons.”
“You just keep pushing, don’t you?” I try to hide my humor, truly I do.
“I’m a very determined man. What do ya say?”
I refuse to look at him; I know if I do I’d fail. “I say that I need to get to work.” Grabbing the tray, I step past him and again I feel those penetrating eyes staring holes in my back as I walk toward the table where his family now sat. Carefully I place a drink in front of each of them, whiskey for the men and wine for the ladies. The one single water with lemon I set down in front of the still smiling woman, and she looks up at me to offer thanks.
“You’re welcome,” I tell her in return, “and congratulations.” The joy she feels is infectious. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed someone smile so brightly before in my life.
I step back and feel a palm press firmly to me from behind. Chills immediately run up my back, along my shoulders, and over my arms.
“You can keep ignoring me Tinley,” he leans in and whispers. I don’t chance a look at his family, but I feel completely on display. Though
he is whispering, I know they had to hear his words, at least those who were seated closest to us. “Just know that I plan to keep asking until you finally give in.”
“As an investigator, you should be aware that there is a name for that. It’s called stalking.” He chuckles and again I lose the battle to hide my smile. Jesus, what is with this guy, melting the Ice Queen so easily? “My brother, Beckett,” he leans around and places a hand on the rougher man’s shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze, “he’s a cop.” The man looks our way. “Maybe we should ask him what he thinks?”
“Thinks about what?” I ignore the smirk on his lips, knowing full well that he is and would be on Knoxville’s side.
“One date.” Knox pushes again.
“Give the guy some hope.” Beckett leans back in his chair. “Montgomery men have a real hard time with rejection.”
“True,” the two women sitting next to his brothers say simultaneously.
Stan grins proudly, and Sara offers a simple nod. I feel two inches tall; they are all in on this. I should have called in sick, or run the minute I noticed Knoxville.
I was being Montgomeried it seemed. They were a group which I’m sure was rarely denied what they wanted.
“Coffee,” I say, looking back over my shoulder.
“Lunch,” Knoxville countered back.
“Coffee,” I repeated, feeling I had to have this much control. I’d already gone against every rule I’d set for myself by being trapped in this situation. I had to have this at least.
“Okay, fine.” Knoxville stares at me with determination. “We’ll start with coffee.”
I fight against the urge to say more and bite the inside of my cheek. I nod, he nods, and I hurry off, hearing murmurs from his family behind me.
This night had taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. I should feel edgy and unsettled, but I don’t. In fact, it is the first time in a long time that I feel like I am not living in the past.