Page 31 of His Wild Storm
And I’m damn close to forgetting who or where I am.
“How did you know pancakes are my favorite?” Knox looks toward Wilde with faux accusation, his mossy eyes sparkling with mischief.
“They’re my favorite too.” Wilde is practically bouncing in his seat, the joy at having something else in common with Knox clear to see.
“How can it not be?” Knox muses, “The syrup alone has to put it in the top three foods of all time.”
“Then how do you feel about French toast?” The suspicion in Wilde’s voice is clear.
“French toast is okay,” Wilde concedes, “but it’s not as good as pancakes.”
“Good,” that one word coming from my son is filled with relief.
Knox and I share a look which has me almost bursting out in laughter. How the man keeps a straight face, I’ll never know.
When Knox heads over to the stove where Laura and Wendy are working on getting breakfast made, he grabs two plates along with pancakes. Since I expect him to sit next to Wilde and dig in, I make my way toward the stove. The gentle touch Knox uses when he grips my arm startles me.
Not because I think he’ll hurt me, but because I know he won’t.
It’s not a feeling I’m used to, and I don’t entirely know how to feel about the whole thing.
“One of these is for you, little storm,” he murmurs softly.
I blink up at him a few times, trying to process what he’s saying and finding it slightly difficult. His nickname for me doesn’t feel like a tease or a joke. Then there’s the way his softened eyes take me in as if he doesn’t want to miss a moment. And his touch.
Fuck, his touch does something to me. Without meaning to, I sway toward him slightly. He stands steady and strong next to me, holding me up like it’s his purpose in life.
He looks at me like I matter, like I’m all he needs. It scares the hell out of me.
After leading me toward the table and setting down the two plates, it only takes a few strides before he’s grabbing a plate for himself.
When was the last time a man served me? I try and think back to when it has happened, but I draw a huge blank.
And yet here’s Knox doing it without a second thought. I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to stop whatever is happening between us.
But do I even want to?
CHAPTER 11
KNOX
I could say the surprise on Haven’s face isn’t comical, but that would be a lie. It’s obvious she’s not used to having someone take care of her. I’m more than happy to be the man who shows her just how high her value is and what she should expect from the man in her life.
Nothing would make me happier, actually.
Then there’s Wilde. Every moment I spend with him, every interaction, has me loving the kid even more. He’s genuine in a way only kids can be. Seeing how he’s not chained by his past and is willing to trust me means everything.
Haven is trying, which is more than enough for me. Of course it’s going to be more difficult for her, and it would surprise me if it were any other way.
She’s the one who was in a relationship with an abusive prick. She’s the one who thought she loved him. Or maybe I’m making too many assumptions.
Going slow with her is almost impossible. For the last week, no matter what else I’m doing, she’s been on my mind. It was a fight every day not to come over here just to get a glimpse of her.
But I know any wrong move could send her running. It’s achance I’m not willing to take.
I’m looking forward to the day when I can get my woman breakfast, and she doesn’t even react because it’s so damn normal that it’s part of her everyday life. And mine. The feeling of warmth in the middle of my chest, of accomplishment, from just getting her a plate of pancakes is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It probably shouldn’t feel this good.
But it does.
