His lips twitch, the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from him in days. “Not my usual scene, I’ll admit.”
There’s a beat of silence between us, thick with tension. I busy myself with rearranging the flowers again, needing something to do with my hands, but I can feel his eyes on me, watching me closely. It’s like he’s waiting for me to say something, to admit what’s really going on, but I can’t. Not yet. If I tell him, if I let him in, then everything becomes real. And I’m not ready for that.
“You okay?” His voice is softer now, low and rumbling like distant thunder.
I glance up at him, forcing another smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… busy.”
He steps closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “Perry.”
My name on his lips is enough to make my heart stutter, and I curse myself for how easily he gets under my skin. But I keep my walls up, not willing to let him see how close I am to breaking. “Really, it’s fine,” I say quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just a little overwhelmed with the shop.”
I can feel him studying me, the weight of his silence pressing down on me. And for a moment, I think he’s going to drop it, let me keep pretending. But Knox isn’t the kind of man to let things go.
“Is it the shop,” he asks, his voice darkening, “or something else?”
I freeze, my fingers tightening around the stem of a flower. Damn him. Damn him for seeing right through me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, my voice too light, too breezy.
Knox steps around the counter, closing the distance between us. He towers over me, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else, his scent—smoky and masculine—filling my senses. “Don’t lie to me,” he says, his voice dangerously low. “I can tell when something’s wrong. What is it, Petal?”
My throat tightens, and for a moment, I want to crumble. To just tell him everything and let him take this weight off my shoulders. But I can’t. I don’t want him to see me as weak. I don’t want him to feel like he has to protect me.
“I’m handling it,” I whisper, not meeting his eyes.
“Handling what?” His hand comes up, tilting my chin so I’m forced to look at him. The concern in his eyes is almost too much to bear. “Tell me.”
I swallow hard, the words clawing at my throat. “It’s my ex,” I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s here. He’s been leaving notes, messing with the shop. I don’t know what he wants, but… he’s not going to leave me alone.”
Knox’s entire body goes still, the air around us seeming to thicken with the weight of his fury. His hand tightens slightly on my chin before he pulls away, his jaw clenched so hard I can see the muscles flexing.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His voice is rough, like he’s barely holding back his anger.
“Because I didn’t want to drag you into this,” I say, feeling small under the intensity of his gaze. “It’s my problem, not yours.”
His eyes darken, and he takes a step closer, his chest almost brushing mine. “It became my problem the second he started threatening you.”
I shake my head, frustration and fear warring inside me. “Knox, I don’t want you to get involved. I can handle it?—”
“Like hell you can,” he growls, cutting me off. “You think I’m just going to stand by and let some bastard terrorize you? Not a chance.”
I stare up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. The intensity in his eyes, the protectiveness, it’s overwhelming. And as much as I want to push him away, to keep handling this on myown, part of me is relieved. Relieved that I don’t have to face this alone anymore.
“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me,” I whisper.
Knox’s expression softens, just a fraction, but there’s still that fire burning in his eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me, Petal. I’ve dealt with worse than some stalker ex.”
His words are meant to reassure me, but they only make my heart ache. I know about his past—about the things he’s seen, the things he’s lost. And I don’t want to add to that pain.
But looking into his eyes now, I realize I don’t have a choice. Knox isn’t going to back down. He’s not going to let me face this alone.
“Okay,” I finally whisper, my voice trembling. “Okay.”
He exhales, some of the tension easing from his body, but the hard edge to his expression remains. “You’re staying with me,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I blink up at him, startled. “What?”
“You heard me,” he says, his eyes flashing. “You’re not staying here by yourself. You’re coming to my cabin. I’ll deal with the shop. I’ll deal with him.”
