Page 28 of Knox

He dipped his chin once in silent acceptance.

We served ourselves and began our meal in comfortable silence. Knox’s keen gaze rarely settled on anything for long, taking in the patio, the view, and probably a dozen other things I’d never noticed and didn’t see now.

“I should probably tell you about myself,” I said. “Since we’re going to be spending so much time together. Feel like trading the basics?”

Knox leaned back in his chair. “All right. You go first.”

I took a minute to organize my thoughts, trying to decide what would help him understand who I was beneath the money and the complicated family dynamics.

“I grew up in Pennsylvania,” I began. “Just outside Philadelphia. I’m a bit of an overachiever.”

“You don’t say.”

I smiled, and let the moment sink in. I liked being with this man far too much. Moving him into the house was probably not the brightest idea I’d had. Not for my heart’s sake, anyway. Not when it seemed as if he might leave town the minute this was over, but I was also a leap-first-and-ask-questions-later kind of woman, so this was par for the course.

“I grew up at my parents’ store,” I continued. “We sold gear for hiking, camping, and just about anything you want to do outdoors. They grew that location into a chain by the time I left for college and moved to Charleston. I loved the company but hated how male-heavy the clientele was. So, I made it my mission to get women comfortable outdoors.”

“A true businesswoman,” he said. “You saw a need, and you met it.”

“I did, but my real passion isn’t business. It’s forestry. Ecology. Understanding how ecosystems work and how we can protect them. I have a minor in environmental science, and I hate that my parents built this house on conservation land. I went to every county council meeting and argued against them. I hired environmental consultants to support me. Provided reports on the nesting birds and the endangered plant species. None of it mattered.”

“So why are you here?” Knox asked. “If you hate what this house represents, why not just stay away?”

I looked out at the sound, at the water catching the light. “Because if I’m not here, then this is just another trophy property my parents show off to their friends. But if I’m here, living full time, spending money in local businesses, hiring local people and trying to make something good come from this mistake...” I trailed off, searching for words. “Maybe I can’t undo the damage that’s been done. But I can try to minimize it.”

Knox studied me for a long moment, making me feel exposed under that blue-eyed gaze. “I grew up here,” he said finally. “Mom ran the shop. I knew this place as well as anyone. But I’ve been in the Marines since high school graduation.”

And he’s the kind of man who runs toward danger, ready to save a woman being dragged into the shadows, I thought. Not that he’d ever say it.

Knox was quiet, then his eyes narrowed. “I want to know the truth about what happened to those hikers. I’d like to help find them, if possible. Completing Mom’s final mission feels like working with her again, and I don’t want to let her down.” He looked away, maybe regretting the transparency and vulnerability. Then his eyes were back on mine. “I want to know who tried to take you last night and if we’re right, that all these things are connected.”

My breath caught. “Every time I let myself imagine there’s a killer lurking out there, or that the same man who had his hands on me is responsible for three missing women, I want to be sick.” I curved my arms around my middle. “I want to run. Hide. Never look back. Then I remember that until he’s stopped, there will be more missing women. And what are the odds that my attacker isn’t the one responsible for the hikers? I know there are lots of criminals in the world, but how many abduct women on this one little island?”

Knox reached across the table, taking my hand in his. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, sending sparks up my arm. “I won’t let anyone near you on my watch. That’s a promise.”

I squeezed his hand, trying to communicate everything I couldn’t put into words. Thank you. I trust you. I’m glad you’re here. But I needed a subject change. “I’m glad our goals are in alignment. However, I’m not letting you work for free.”

Knox cocked his head, as if we were at a standstill.

“You should prepare to be properly fussed over and appreciated.” I smiled, feeling some of the weight lift from my chest. “I’m an excellent cook, and this house has every amenity you could possibly want. Plus, I’m a fabulous roommate.”

Something flickered in Knox’s eyes. Amusement? Maybe a little of something else as well. “I can work with that.”

“Good.” I released his hand and raised my iced tea glass. “To our new partnership. And answers.”

Knox clinked his glass against mine.

We talked for hours. Straight through the afternoon. I learned that Knox loved old movies and hated small talk, that he’d taught himself to cook during long deployments and could make a decent fettuccine sauce. He missed the structure of military life but not the busyness. He loved life on the island.

I told him about my weakness for historical fiction and terrible reality TV, that I’d once hiked the entire Appalachian Trail solo, that I’d learned to cook from my Italian grandmother who’d never written down a single recipe.

By the time the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, I realized I was genuinely enjoying myself. The fear and trauma from last night hadn’t disappeared, but it had faded into the background. Here, on this patio with Knox, I felt safe. Protected.

Seen.

“I should probably get my stuff from the Jeep,” Knox said eventually, standing and stretching. I tried not to notice the way his shirt pulled across his shoulders. “I’ll walk the perimeter to get a lay of the land, then knock when I finish.”

“All right. Then I’ll show you to your room.”