He could feel her eyes sizing him up, even in the dimly lit cab of the truck. “Maybe if that were the case.”
“Maybe?”
“I’d have to think about it. We would make pretty babies, but there would be no doctors or midwives, and Idon’t know if you could bring a child into the new, empty world. And what would we do if the kids got sick? We could raid a pharmacy, but would either of us know what to do in case of an emergency?”
“Why are those thoughts going through your head?” Knox asked.
“Because if our only job is to repopulate the earth, we would have to consider all that before we had sex,” she answered. “I’m close to thirty. If I had a child every year until I was mid-forty, that would mean about a dozen kids. Then there’s no one for them to marry and have families with. No thank you. I don’t want to be the only two left behind.”
“With that nightmare, I don’t either.” He noticed the For Sale sign nailed to a fence post that he’d seen on the way to Nocona, and his mind jumped over to the idea of making a group of small houses like Jack was doing down near the lake. He could start off small with only half a dozen spec places and grow from there.
“Hey!” Lottie reached across the console and touched him on the shoulder. “You missed the turn. Are you sleeping with your eyes open?”
“Almost,” he replied and turned the vehicle around in Tripp’s leather shop’s parking lot. “I was building houses in my mind.”
“Good Lord! Don’t you get enough of that on the job?”
He drove a few blocks and made a right turn into the lane. “Can you compartmentalize so well that you turn everything off in the evenings?”
“I give it my best shot,” she told him. “Right now, I’m thinking about a shower. Lumber, nail guns, and steel tapes aren’t anywhere in my mind.”
Knox parked the truck and pointed toward the huge, two-story house. “It’s been a long time since someone left the porch light on for me. But back to you taking a shower. You can have the bathroom first, but only if you promise that you won’t use all the hot water. I smell like spilled beer and sweat.”
She unfastened her seat belt and opened the door. “Same here, and thank you.”
“I am a good pretend boyfriend.” He chuckled.
“Ever think about taking an acting job?” she asked as they walked across the yard together.
He opened the door for her and followed her inside the foyer. “Nope. Had enough of that by the time I finished high school. Your room is the first one on the left. Your garment bag is hanging in the closet, and your suitcase is at the foot of the bed. Bathroom is at the end of the hallway. Towels are stacked on a ladder-back chair.”
“Thank you,” she muttered and headed up the stairs.
She passed by him on the way to the bathroom by the time he reached the end of the hallway and opened the door into his old bedroom. He sat down in a rocking chair and dozed off while he waited for her to finish. A gentle knock on the door and her whisper woke him with a start.
“I’m all done. That is one big-ass bathroom.”
“It had to accommodate seven girls.” He groaned as hestood and picked up a pair of pajama bottoms. “See you in the morning. Don’t set an alarm. They won’t get started until almost noon.”
“Thank God,” she muttered and disappeared out of the doorway.
Knox adjusted the water in the shower and shucked out of his dirty clothes. Any other time, he would have let the pulsating stream ease his tired muscles. But not that night. There was no doubt in his mind that he could fall asleep standing there. He could fall, hit his head, and drown before anyone could even find him. Or worse yet, break an arm. Then his job working for Jack would be over.
He was back in his room, under the covers and fast asleep, within ten minutes. But his night was filled with dreams of building a small, gated estate project, and Lottie was there with him every step of the way.
Chapter 7
Lottie awoke on Saturday morning to the blended aroma of coffee and cinnamon. She opened one eye and checked the time and sat up so fast that the room did a couple of spins. When everything settled, she looked over at the clock sitting on the nightstand again, and it really was five minutes past ten. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept past eight o’clock.
“Good morning!” Knox pushed through the door with a tray in his hands. “Aunt Bernie thought it would be romantic for me to bring you breakfast in bed this morning. She’s in her glory right now. Too bad we’ll have to break her heart in a few weeks.”
She threw the covers off, slung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. “Give me a minute to go to the bathroom, and don’t set that tray on the bed. If I spilled coffee on that beautiful chenille spread, I would be mortified.”
“Does that mean pretend relationships must have a picnic on the floor rather than breakfast in bed?” Knox said.
“That’s right,” she replied and padded barefoot out into the hallway. One glance in the bathroom mirror made her glad that she had picked up her makeup bag on theway out of the room. Her hair looked like an old string mop that had been hung over the clothesline to dry. She quickly ran a brush through it, braided it into one long rope, and then brushed her teeth. She was halfway down the hall to her room when one of the sisters stepped out of a bedroom.
“Good morning,” Lottie said as cheerfully as she could when she was wearing a faded T-shirt that covered the hem of her running shorts.
