Page 51

LARKIN
We were somewherebetween Cottonwood Falls and Dallas when Knox reached across the center console and held his hand palm up for me to hold.
Butterflies danced in my stomach at the sight of his hand, at the invitation. At what it meant. And warmth spread through me as I slipped my hand into his, memorizing every bit of our contact, from his calloused skin to the way his hand enveloped mine, the way he wasn’t a lazy hand-holder, but actually squeezed my hand like he was grateful for the moment and didn’t want to let me go.
I realized I was staring at our intertwined fingers, his tanned, tattooed skin contrasting with my pale and freckled complexion. Then I glanced up to see him looking at the road, a smile on his lips.
Both the kids had fallen asleep, and their soft snores blended with the music playing low on the radio.
I wished I could talk to the old me, in the midst of a divorce, thinking that all men would leave, that men viewed love as a game, and tell her that she’d soon be feeling butterflies in her stomach at simply holding hands with a man.
A good man.
“Tell me about Ford,” I said. “We didn’t get to talk much at your party. What’s he really like?”
Knox let out a quiet chuckle. “He’s a shit.”
I had to laugh at that too. “Details?”
“He’s a terrible liar. Every time he tries, he can’t make eye contact, and when you call him on it, he instantly starts smiling. Usually he was just lying about whether or not chores were done, stuff like that. Or when he tried to get Fletcher and me in trouble when we were little kids, you know, usual younger sibling stuff.”
I nodded, missing my big sister so much. I couldn’t wait to tell her about this trip with Knox.
“He was a really hard worker too,” Knox said. “Always stayed late after sports practice to work on a new skill. He could have been the best one on the team and he still stayed after everyone else, trying to get just a little bit better.”
“It sounds like you admire him,” I commented.
“I do.” He glanced my way a moment, gifting me with one of his small smiles. “I guess part of me wishes I could have dealt with things the way he had. I like my life now, but I wish it wasn’t as hard to get here, you know?”
I totally understood. “My dad left my mom when I was too young to remember. I know it’s not the same as what you went through, but in my teenage years, I was adamant that I wouldn't date until I was old enough to make good decisions with men. In high school, I thought that meant college. But then I told myself I wouldn't date until I graduated nursing school so I’d have time to invest in therightguy.” I shook my head at my youthful naivete. If only I’d known then what I knew now. “Sometimes I wonder if I’d had more experience dating, would I have noticed Seth’s red flags?”
He squeezed my hand comfortingly. “Don’t blame yourself for anyone else’s bad behavior, okay?”
My chest tightened, fighting against the words. Wasn’t it my job to know better?
As if he could hear my thoughts, he reminded me, “Seth is a grown man. He made his choices, not you.”
I nodded. But as Knox shifted in his seat, I could tell there was a question on the tip of his tongue.
“Ask me,” I said.
He checked the rearview mirror to make sure the kids were still asleep, and then his voice was low, rough. “Was Seth your first?”
I could barely hear my own voice as I said, “He was.”
I could see all his suppressed emotions as his eyelids shuddered.
“And Bennett?” he asked.
“Nothing happened,” I admitted.
Then he smiled. “Good.” His gaze intensified as he pinned it on me, just long enough to make my heart beat faster. “I’m going to show you how a man should treat a woman. In every sense of the word.”
My lips parted and my thighs clenched. Every part of me was looking forward to him keeping that promise.
Traffic grew heavier the closer we got to Dallas, and he had to put two hands on the wheel to navigate the zipping and weaving drivers. He followed the directions playing on the truck screen until we reached the parking garage right next to the stadium.
“Knox, it must cost a fortune to park here,” I said. I’d only been to a game once before, and even parking a mile away had cost twenty dollars. “I don’t mind walking.”