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“Are you sure you’re okay?” Angelia asks me. “You look kinda sick.”
“I’m fine. Just…completely blown away, I think.”
It’s the truth. And while I am blown away by the fundraising total, I’m more floored by my realization that I’m in love with Knox.
It’s supposed to be a good thing—to feel good—but for me, it’s a bitter pill to swallow. I was resigned to never lose my heart to a man again. Someday I wanted to reach a point where I could enjoy sex and companionship again, but never this.
This time, I reach for my wine glass rather than water. People are starting to stand, still hugging and celebrating, as Mia thanks everyone for their contribution.
“And special thanks to Knox Deveraux for his donation of $50,000, which was matched by Harry Stone,” she says. “You’re welcome to stay as late as you’d like, but whenever you leave, please travel home safely tonight. Thanks again.”
I turn to Knox, slack-jawed once again. “$50,000?”
He winks at me. That wink of his is going to be my undoing.
“That was nice of Harry; I’ll have to thank him,” Knox says.
“Who’s Harry Stone?”
“He’s a retired Blaze player. Retired about ten years ago when he was still in his twenties even though he was a top player. Joined the military and served five years. Now he’s a successful businessman.”
“Wow. That was awfully nice of him.”
“He’s a good dude. Always steps up to support good causes.”
Knox stands up and reaches for my hand. “Ready for our date?”
“Now?” I cry.
He grins. “No, I’m kidding. I want a full night with you, and it’s getting late. But I do think we need to finish that kiss when I take you home tonight.”
“Who says it wasn’t finished?” I ask in challenge, taking his hand and standing up.
“Me.” He gives me a serious look. “I’ll never be done kissing you, though.”
My heart pounds as our eyes stay locked together. No one’s ever said anything like that to me. And while part of me wants to believe it, that cynical devil on my shoulder tells me men will say whatever it takes to get a woman in bed.
“Reese, I can’t thank you enough,” Monica, the Mission director, says from beside us. “So many women and children will benefit from the programs we’ll get to keep now.”
She hugs me, and I look at Knox as I hug her back. I feel such an enormous amount of gratitude for him right now. Is that why I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to bring him back to my place tonight and recreate all the dirty things we did in Kauai?
I don’t think so. I wish I was the kind of woman who could have casual sex, but I’m not. Kauai was my one and only opportunity to do it, because I never thought we’d see each other again.
“I really didn’t do much,” I tell Monica. “Knox talked to the people who run the foundation and they did all the work.”
“So this is Knox?” Monica says, shaking his hand. “Thank you so much.”
“I was glad to do it.”
A woman from the Blaze’s PR department comes over then, saying she’s rounding up all the players for a photo of Anton giving Monica a giant check. I stand back and watch as several pictures are taken, and I feel a greater sense of pride than I’ve ever had before.
Creating an award-winning dessert gives me a sense of accomplishment. Finishing culinary school gave me that same feeling—I set my mind to a big goal and reached it.
But what I do at the shelter makes me proud. I feel like I’m a small part of women rebuilding their lives after abuse. Maybe I’m a small part of their children growing up in a healthy, safe environment. Even if I did it full-time, as my job, it would never feel like work. It’s more of a calling.
I’m feeling it powerfully tonight. There are a few women here tonight who once lived at the shelter and have moved on to make new lives for themselves. As I see their smiles when the PR people are taking photos of them with Monica and Angelia, I think about the New York job offer again.
What if I could do what I’ve done at the shelter on a grander scale? What if I could go to a place like that every day and make a difference?
I feel an arm go around my waist from behind and turn to find Knox.
“Hey, some of the guys are going out for drinks, you want to go?” he asks me.
“Sure, if you do.”
He shrugs. “It’s just the single guys; I’d rather skip it.”
We say our goodbyes and find the car Knox hired for the night, the driver waiting for us nearby. The entire ride back to my place, I nod, smile and talk about the fundraiser with him, but really, I’m preoccupied with something else.
