Page 24 of Red Rose Cupcake

By the time we make it downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast, it’s nearly noon. The conference Knox is attending doesn’t start until later in the afternoon, so we have the whole morning to ourselves.

As we sit at a table near the window, sipping coffee and enjoying the view, I can’t help but feel… happy. It’s a simple thing, but sitting here with Knox, sharing a meal, talking about nothing and everything—it feels like the beginning of something real.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Knox says, pulling me out of my reverie.

I smile, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Just… thinking about how perfect this is.”

He squeezes my hand, his green eyes soft as he looks at me. “It’s only perfect because you’re here.”

Chapter 16

ROSIE

It’s late in the afternoon, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, I pull into the driveway of my own house. I sit in the car for a moment, staring at the familiar front door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I can’t even remember the last time I spent the night here.

Knox and I have fallen into this comfortable routine—me at his place, waking up to the smell of his woodsy cologne, his strong arms around me, and the way he grumbles when I try to get out of bed. I didn’t even realize it was happening, but somehow, without either of us really acknowledging it, his house became my home base.

But today, I decided I needed to come back to my place. Not for any particular reason—just to feel grounded, to remind myself that I still have my own space. Maybe even to remind Knox that I’m still my own woman.

I grab my bag from the passenger seat, walk up to the front door, and unlock it. The house smells… stale. Not like dust or anything, but like it’s been unoccupied for a little too long. It’s a far cry from the warmth of Knox’s place, where there’s always some kind of comforting scent—whether it’s his cologne, the food he’s cooking, or just the smell of him.

As I walk through the entryway into the kitchen, I head to the fridge, planning to grab a snack or something. But when Iopen the door, all I see is an expired carton of milk and a few sad-looking apples. I frown. When was the last time I even went grocery shopping?

I sigh and close the fridge, turning to the cabinet where I keep my favorite snacks. But again, it’s practically empty. No crackers, no chips, not even a single protein bar. What the hell?

Shaking my head, I walk upstairs to the bathroom, hoping at least to freshen up a bit. But when I open the cabinet under the sink, it’s like a ghost town. No toothpaste, no makeup remover, not even my favorite lotion. I open my closet, and it’s the same story—most of my clothes are gone, probably still hanging neatly in Knox’s closet.

I sit down on the stool at my breakfast bar, completely floored. I stare out the window, shaking my head in disbelief. How did I not notice this? How did I let this happen?

I try to remember when it all shifted, when I started leaving more and more of my things at Knox’s. The man is intense, yes, but I didn’t think he was sneaky. But now, sitting here in my nearly empty house, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been tricked.

And then I hear the knock on the door.

I freeze, glancing at the clock. It’s almost dinnertime, and I hadn’t told anyone I was coming home tonight. Who else could it be?

I walk to the door, pulling it open, and there he is.

Knox.

He’s standing there, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, holding my overnight bag in one hand and a takeout bag in the other.

“Babe,” he says, his voice a deep rumble, “you forgot your stuff.”

I stare at him for a moment, my emotions swirling between disbelief and amusement. “You…”

“Tricked me,” I say, my voice cracking between a laugh and a cry. “You asshole, you tricked me into moving in with you.”

Knox steps inside, setting the takeout bag on the counter and dropping my overnight bag next to it. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close, and I can’t help but bury my face in his chest as I laugh, tears spilling from my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Babe,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “I didn’t trick you. You just… happened to leave most of your things at my place. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

I sniffle, pulling back to look up at him, my tears drying but the laughter still bubbling up in my chest. “A favor? Knox, my entire life is at your house.”

His lips twitch with amusement, and he shrugs, totally unapologetic. “Is that such a bad thing?”

I shake my head, still laughing. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it, sweetheart,” he says, his hands sliding down to my waist. “You belong with me. And I don’t just mean your stuff. I want you, all of you, at my place. Every single day.”

---