AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re brilliant.” For a second, I almost forgot Sam and Holden were right there, and I very nearly kissed Knox. “I think a lot of what he said was actually opening lines to things. I’ll show you back at our place.” Before Holden and Sam could turn their speculative gazes my way, I turned toward Sam. “Oh, and Knox suggested talking to your mother. I pulled up the list, and she’s not on the original interviews.”
“They probably couldn’t get an interpreter.” Sam’s mouth twisted. His mother was Deaf, and while Safe Harbor did have a fairly large Deaf community for a small town, it didn’t surprise me that a low-budget investigation with a clear suspect had moved along without interviewing tangential friends. “But she knew both the husband and wife from church.”
“And interviewing Rob’s mom might have been seen as a conflict of interest because she’s also not on the list. I’m going to want to talk to a number of people, show some pictures of the suspect, but both of those women should be included.”
“Excellent point. Thanks for thinking of it, Knox.” Holden beamed like Knox had single-handedly cracked the case. And perhaps he had. Or perhaps I was simply a jealous bastard who wanted Knox and his amazing brain and didn’t want to share.
In the second round, we again came in a close second, miles better than our usual showing.
“Coming back next week?” Holden asked Knox as he rolled along to the exit with us. “We need your expertise.”
“We’ll see. Depends.” Knox shot me a cryptic look.
“We need you.” Sam gave him a brotherly hug on his way to the parking lot.
“That was fun.” Knox’s expression remained guarded. I dragged a hand through my hair to avoid the urge to grab Knox’s arm and hold him close as we started our walk home. Home. When had it stopped being Aunt Henri’s house? Huh. At some point in the last six weeks, I’d gone from dread over the house to something approaching affection. Ownership even.
“You fit right in.” I tried to free the compliment from my jealousy because Knox truly had been a welcome addition to the evening. And he did. He fit right into this house, into my life, into that hole in my heart I hadn’t been aware of. If only I could keep him. I pulled him tight against me the second the door shut behind us at the house.
“How tired are you, for real?” Knox asked without releasing me. Wallace delicately picked his feline way down the stairs to greet us, but Knox held my gaze. “If you need a shower and to go to sleep without fooling around, I’d understand.”
“I wouldn’t.” I snorted and groped his ass, making us both laugh.
“Good. Because I was thinking…” He gave an unusual-for-him coy smile.
“I like it when you think. “
“Thinking I want to try to bottom. Been thinking all week about what you said in San Francisco. I want to see if it’s different with you. You up for that?”
There was only one possible answer.
Chapter Twenty-One
Knox
“Absolutely.” There was so much softness in Monroe’s gaze I was surprised the air itself in the foyer wasn’t filled with fluff. I wanted to tell him this wasn’t a big deal, but we both knew it was. It had taken me most of the summer to get to this place where I truly wanted to try, and something about the solemn emotion in Monroe’s expression made my chest tight and my eyes burn.
“That was easy,” I mumbled, desperate for a laugh. “Didn’t even have to twist your arm.”
“All you ever have to do is ask.” He held out a hand to lead me upstairs, but I paused at the second-floor landing to gather him close into another hug, this one from behind.
“You’re pretty amazing.” I buried my face in his short hair. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too.” He spun like he was about to kiss me but then stepped back, taking in the whole upstairs hall. Gone was the faded carpet runner, the chipped paint on the built-ins, the dusty eaves, and the decades-old prints. “Whoa. You’ve been busy.”
“You like?” I’d polished the hardwoods, which had been in good enough shape to not need full refinishing, then I’d painted the cabinetry and trim a bright true-white, setting off a light blue-green color that called to mind spring and Easter and little mint candies. I’d found a slightly damaged art book on the third floor and had salvaged the best abstract prints to swap out with the old drab Victorian pictures, refreshing the frames with some white spray paint.
“You truly are a magician.” Monroe’s tone held an amount of pride worthy of reaching a mountain summit or giving a valedictorian speech, his touch on my arm equally warm.
“I love how I can impress you with a little paint and some accessories.”
