I wished I missed my mother. I wished I could say that I’d missed the regular ringing of my phone. But it was a relief. I hadn’t realized how much pain had come with each of her calls, the bitterness they’d brought to each day.
Someday, my heart wouldn’t be so bruised. Someday, hopefully, these feelings toward her would soften. Someday, I might pick up the phone and call her for a change.
Just not today.
“Are you taking off?” Eloise asked, glancing at the clock.
“Unless you need me to do anything else.” It was just after five. Drake had to be picked up before six, but I had time if she needed me to deliver slippers or champagne to a room.
“No, you’ve been working your tail off this week. Have I told you how much I appreciate you? Because I do.”
“Thank you.” My chest swelled with pride. When I’d worked for Ward Hotels, it had been rare to receive a compliment. From my boss. From my father. Dad set the tone for the office and friendliness was a distant priority over accomplishment.
But Quincy was a welcoming place. People smiled as you passed them on the sidewalk and said hello. Neighbors watched out for neighbors. Strangers bought strangers a cup of coffee simply to be kind.
“See you tomorrow.” I waved at Eloise, then hurried to the break room to clock out. With my coat on and my purse slung over a shoulder, I headed for Knuckles.
Knox and I hadn’t seen each other since I’d left for work this morning. We’d both been swamped with the influx of guests, and today he’d started prep for the Thanksgiving feast he’d be serving on Thursday.
But even though we’d gone the whole day apart, there was comfort in knowing that he was always close by. If I needed him, he was there.
The restaurant’s tables were set, a few already occupied. The kitchen was bustling when I pushed open the swinging door. Skip was at the prep table, mixing a bowl of corn pasta salad. Roxanne was standing beside Knox, reviewing a menu card. Everyone looked my way when I stepped inside.
“I just wanted to say hi.” I waved to the room. “I’m heading out.”
“One minute.” Knox held up a finger. “Don’t leave yet.”
“Okay.” I shifted out of the way so I wouldn’t get bumped if a waitress came through the door.
“How’s it going, Memphis?” Skip asked.
“Busy day. You?”
“Same.” He tapped the handle of his wooden spoon on the side of the bowl, then took it to the dishwasher. Like Knox and Roxanne, he was wearing a white chef’s coat and today he was in a pair of loose cotton pants with a cheetah print.
“New pants, Skip?” Normally he wore jeans. The wild, bold and baggy pants had always been Roxanne’s forte.
“Pretty snazzy, huh.” He did a little two-step shuffle, dancing my way. “Roxanne told me I couldn’t pull off her style.”
“Because he can’t.” She shimmied over in her pink camo pants. The bright color matched the streaks that ran through her blond hair.
Skip scoffed and struck a pose. “Can too.”
The easy banter between the restaurant staff always made me smile. They teased each other. They teased Knox. But beneath the laughter and the jests, there was mutual respect.
Knox praised his staff regularly. He gave them advice and taught them new techniques. And in return, they adored him.
I adored him. More and more each day.
“All good, guys?” Knox asked, unbuttoning his coat.
“Yep.” Skip gave him a mock salute.
Roxanne nodded. “All good. Get out of here.”
“You’re not working tonight?” I asked.
He answered by disappearing to his office, returning a moment later with his Carhartt coat and truck’s keys. “There’s a storm blowing in. I don’t want you driving alone.”
“Okay.”
His protectiveness was second nature. He was a man who took charge. But unlike my dad’s barked orders and inability to compromise, Knox did it with care, not control. Like the way he’d moved us into his house. He hadn’t asked. He’d simply filled my laundry basket, one trip at a time, until all that remained in the loft were my empty suitcases. If I’d balked, he would have taken everything back.
“Hi.” He stopped beside me and dropped a kiss to my forehead. “How was your day?”
“Hi. Good.”
“You didn’t come see me on a break.”
“Because I didn’t take a break.”
He frowned and put his hand on my lower back, steering me out of the kitchen. A man at a table along the wall waved. Knox jerked up his chin but didn’t stop walking. “Anything from your parents today?”
“Not a word.”
“Damn.”
“Pretty much,” I muttered. We both wanted this over with.
After my confession last week, Knox and I had spent hours talking. Sharing about Oliver, spilling that secret, had lifted a weight from my shoulders. Knox had stepped in and a problem that had been mine was now ours.
I’d never been in a relationship of ours before. Not even with my parents.
Knox and I had decided that the only thing to do about my parents and this blackmailer was wait. Nothing good would come from me getting into the middle of the situation. If anything, it would only illuminate the truth.
This woman, whoever she was, had no proof that Oliver was Drake’s biological father. Our affair had been secret—Oliver had made sure of that, even if I hadn’t realized it at the time. She was likely acting on a hunch, so I’d keep my son and his DNA far, far away from the city.
If my father decided not to pay her off, then life would get complicated. But I was counting on Dad’s first love: his image.
His reputation had always been his priority. It was the reason his hotels were labeled boutique hotels. He wanted the Ward name to be known for extravagance and exclusivity.
“We’ll deal.” Knox took my hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal. Together.”
Together. I stared up at his handsome profile and let that word roll through my mind.
Was this too good to be true? My heart couldn’t take it if this fell to pieces. Because day by day, night by night, I was falling for Knox.
Maybe I already had.
Would he wake up tomorrow morning and realize he could have so much more than me? Would he resent the drama I’d brought to his life?
“What?” Knox nudged my arm.
“Nothing.” I clutched his hand tighter, then let it go as we stepped outside.
A blast of snow hit me in the face. I gasped at the cold wind, burrowing deeper into my coat, then hurried to my car.
“Get in. I’ll clear the window.” He opened my door for me, and as I turned on the engine, he used his sleeve to wipe the windshield.
I cranked the heat while he cleared his truck, then I led the way across town to the daycare. Wind whipped snowflakes through the air. It was so thick I couldn’t see farther than a block ahead. My knuckles were as white as the sky by the time I eased into the daycare’s parking lot.
Knox parked beside me, waiting as I rushed inside to collect my son.
I was just down the hallway when Jill’s voice caught my ear. “She’s shacked up with him already.”
My footsteps slowed, my hands fisting at my sides. Not again.