Page 28 of Worth the Want
“I have no doubt. I know a tiny-but-mighty when I see one, and I felt that kick.” He grins that crooked grin again, and my heart stutters at the sight. Does he know how gorgeous he is?
“So the boyfriend in the city?”
“What about him?”
“He was fine with the long distance?”Is he asking if I’m single?
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “You can ask if I’m with someone, Knox. It’s only fair since I asked you the same thing,” I say, poking fun at myself and poking him in his chest with a finger.
He doesn’t laugh, but there’s humor in his eyes before he leans in, causing me to press my back against the doorframe, and asks, “Are you with someone, Indie?” His breath on my bare skin sends goose bumps down my arms. I’m becoming very aware that I’m still in my blue bikini. I shake my head in response, unable to locate my voice. The air between us is too thick. Too tension filled. I fight my hands, hugging them to my sides as tightly as I can. Then he keeps talking, causing me todoubt the function of my ears—or maybe I’m just having trouble hearing him over my own heartbeat.
“Do you wanna be?”
It’s as if my brain is completely separate from my mouth. Indie weaves some strong magic. The only thought I have is that I don’t want to stop being around her. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m asking her to my place for a drink.
“I’m sorry. What?” Indie asks. Like maybe she’s misheard me, or maybe my invitation is a complete surprise. I had thought there was some flirting happening, but now I’m feeling like I read this all wrong.
“Do you want to have a drink? With me?” I repeat, scratching at the back of my neck.
“Like at your house? Now?” The shock on her face is…confusing. How had I misread this so completely? I lean back, putting a little space between us.
“Unless you don’t want to,” I say, trying to sound more casual than I’m feeling. Having never been good at anything resembling dating, I’m doing my best here but flying blind.
“I want to,” she blurts, reaching out to grab my arm. My lips curl into a smile at her acceptance and her hand on me.
“Okay. Good.” I turn and walk to the house, somewhat awkwardly, just hoping she’s following.
“Your place is beautiful,” she says after we walk a few steps.
“Thank you. The renovations were a lot more extensive than I had originally planned, but I’m happy with them,” I tell her honestly.
“Did you do all the renovations yourself?”
“Not all of them, I hired out most of the heavy lifting, and my family helped with the more cosmetic issues.”
“That’s nice. No one in my family is very handy, so it probably would have ended up in worse shape than when we started if we took on that kind of project,” she muses, and I laugh.
“Not everyone in mine is, I found that out the hard way.”
“Now, if we’re talking design or interior decorating, the Holmes family are your people.”
“Oh yeah?”
“My parents are both artists. Dad works on movie sets, and my mom does oil paintings.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you an artist?” I clarify.
She laughs. “If you had ever seen a drawing of mine as a kid, you wouldn’t be asking me that.”
“No one can draw when they’re a kid,” I tell her, thinking of the last thing Hazel has proudly presented. Did I put it on the fridge? Yes. Do I know what it is? No.
“Maybe. But if I showed you one I did today, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” That makes me laugh.
“You laugh, but it’s actually kind of sad.” She chuckles.
