Page 54 of Conception
“Trust me. I’m still trying to figure out how to talk you into fucking on the hood of that beauty in your garage.”
My cheeks flush. I still haven’t told him about my parents. I don’t know why. It…just hasn’t come up. If he knew that was my dad’s car, he might rethink his plans for it. Then again, from what I’ve come to know of Knox, not much will get in the way of what and when he wants to fuck.
“I fucking love it when you blush.”
Not melting. Not melting one bit.
“So, how’d you end up with this place?” I ask, changing the subject.
He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “You know how I work for my dad? And plan on working there after graduation?”
I nod.
“It’s legacy. Dad built the business into what it is not for himself, but so he could share something with—and one day leave it to—Clay and me. Since I was a kid, I’ve known what my future would hold, and since my dad’s the greatest man I’ve ever known, it’s my mission to make him proud.”
“That’s sweet, Knox.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like my mom.” He treats me to an eye roll. “I spent more time during my childhood at Dad’s office than I did on the playground. In high school, I dabbled in sports for a bit, but that didn’t stop me from continuing to learn from my old man. College—pretty much the same. I go to Dad’s alma mater, worked for him in between classes and during every summer since eighth grade.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. I was there because I wanted to be, not because of Dad pressuring me. If I’d have told him that I wanted to be somewhere else, he’d have driven me himself. So that’s how my life’s been for the last ten years. Except this year, instead of going to work my dad for the summer, Mom bought me this place—as my first investment, as she calls it. She ordered me to spend the summer here fixing it up so I can rent it out in the future. Learning more responsibility while also having fun, she claimed. I grumbled the entire way here. Until I saw you.”
When I walk towards him, he flips around in the chair where I straddle his waist. My arms hook around his neck, and I meet his eyes. “So, instead of listening to your mom, you’ve let me distract you?”
“Pretty sure distraction’s what Mom was hopin’ for, babe.”
Jesus, is it wrong to ridiculously adore it when he calls me that?
“Then what do you say you take me to the bedroom so I can distract you some more?”
Knox is up and out of the chair in a flash, hoisting me up with him. My legs wrap around his waist, and I laugh as he tears through the house before depositing me onto a waterbed. The sensation of rolling water underneath me takes me by surprise.
He peers down at me with a devilish grin. “Ever fucked in a waterbed, Melia?” he asks, his voice a low, husky drawl. The way he lazily says my name shoots heat straight to my loins.
I rise, grabbing the material of his shirt and bunching it up into my fist. “I’m pretty sure I’ve neverfuckedbefore I met you. Definitely not in a waterbed. Think I’ll enjoy it? I don’t know. I’m not sure it’ll be all that good with the water sloshing around.” I’m teasing, and he knows it.
With a low growl, he rips off his shirt and launches himself at me. One hand fists my hair as hot breath finds my ear. “I’ll show you just how fucking good it can be.”
A short while later, I’m a convert. Waterbeds are a hell of a lot of fun.
“It’s dusty, smells like floor cleaner, and I’d much rather be in your bed.”
With one eyebrow raised, I eye Knox standing in the doorway of his kitchen. Shirtless. Gleaming with sweat. Sun-kissed skin stretching across muscles that shoots a few little quivers straight to my panties.
“I’m pretty sure all we do is spend time in my bed, Knox” I tease, because, well, it’s the truth.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“On the contrary. It’s turning out to be the best summer yet.” As soon as the words escape my lips, I regret them. I don’t want Knox to get the wrong idea. Not that it’d be the wrong idea, but I don’t want him to run off if he has any indication I’m starting to wish we didn’t have an expiration date.
He grins, apparently oblivious to the conflict brewing inside me. “Hafta say I agree. But you know what? You’re right. We need to adventure outside of your bed. What do you say we head to your place, christen the shower, then head to Mickey’s for burgers and beer? Or if you want, we can go out somewhere a bit nicer, like that Italian place the next town over?” he asks, rubbing a bit of grease off his hands. “We have plenty of time left to get this place in order. I need to order fixtures, a new toilet…” He trails off on a tangent about everything left to do.
When his mom told him she’d found him a fixer-upper, she wasn’t kidding. Not that today hasn’t been a blast. It’s been refreshing. Like every other day with him, I’m realizing what a great team we could make—which is unfortunate. He has plans for his future, ones that don’t include me, but I’ve genuinely enjoyed helping him rehab this place. Or the way I could see myself spending my life like this. By his side.
Except his place isn’t here. Neither is mine.
I shake the thought out of my head and focus on the joy of the day.
