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“You want a custom solution.” Knox seemed to smile with his whole body, voice included. “But a B&B? You? No offense, because I really do love you, but you don’t cook. Much.”
“I said low-key. I’ll figure out the food part.” I waved away the comment on my cooking. Surely some B&Bs served bagels and toppings or a cereal bar. Whatever. Those details could be worked out. “Coming back here today, I saw a rainbow over the house, and I saw a home. A feeling I want to share. A potential community. Like rooms to stay for couples like Frank and Leon and younger people too. This is what Aunt Henri would want. I feel it in my bones. And maybe I’d have help with the cooking part?”
I tried to do my best impression of the triplets, big eyes, soft mouth, silent pleading.
“Oh. Don’t turn those eyes on me. Those eyes get you everything you want and then some.” He groaned, then laughed. “Okay, fine. I know how you like playing sous chef more. I can help you make hash browns and decent eggs and probably come up with some other recipes for us.”
“Good.” I beamed at him. “I was hoping you’d want in. And I know it would have to be a side hustle for you, but I am going to need an exclusive repair contract with Measure Twice.”
“Personal service with a smile?” He grinned right back at me before standing and holding out a hand. “Dance with me, Monroe.”
“There’s no music.” I let him pull me up anyway, using the excuse to press myself tight against him on the little scrap of balcony.
“You need an orchestra?” He chuckled warmly.
“Nope. Just need you.” I obediently wrapped my arms around his neck and swayed to whatever internal beat always drove Knox. Tonight’s rhythm was a slow, sultry waltz, and I wanted to stay forever on that third-floor balcony, lights twinkling, dancing with my guy, who said he loved me. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Monroe.” He tilted my chin for a quick kiss before peering deeply into my eyes. “Sure you won’t be bored as a B&B owner?”
“You’re the one who’s always telling me how poetic I am. I’m going to solve the Stapleton case. And then I’m going to write a true-crime book about it, the kind Aunt Henri would have loved.” I’d been thinking about that option ever since leaving the coffeehouse. I sure did love typing up my notes on the various cases. And if Holden believed it was worth a book and Knox believed in me, no matter how wacky the idea of me as a writer seemed, I could give it a go. “And maybe I’ll cobble together some other cold cases to work on, do some consulting. I don’t have to be in a city to be involved in investigations.”
“What if my dad decides to be a dick and doesn’t want you working his cold cases?” Knox wrinkled his nose.
“So be it. This is hardly the only small town with secrets around here.” I wasn’t going to add to Knox’s worries. I had my military retirement along with the equity in the house. I’d get by even if my B&B idea took some time to get up and running.
“That is true. And so you’re gonna be an investigator with his own B&B…” Knox grinned slyly as he pulled me snuggly against him. “Dude. I’m officially living with a gay cozy mystery romance hero. No tripping over bodies in the flower bed or cozying up to the local baker.”
“Eh. Cozies don’t have enough sexy parts.” If he was going to grope me, I could at least return the favor, so I squeezed his ass.
“We can make our own sexy parts.” He waggled his eyebrows at me before sobering. “You really think you can be happy here?”
“Yes.” I held his gaze. “And I’d stay even if you weren’t ready to go public. I want to stay for me. Find my purpose for the first time in my life. Maybe it’s the Stapleton case. Maybe it’s the B&B idea. Maybe it’s something else. But I’m not going to find it by running away. You’re the bonus and the inspiration.”
“I like that.” He continued his exploration of my butt through my jeans, squeezing and rubbing. “Sweet talk gets you everywhere and everything.”
“I want it all.” I leaned into his touch.
“Good. Gonna let me give it to you?”
Trying to invite more kissing, more touching, more everything, I arched my neck. “Please.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Knox
Dancing with Monroe on the balcony under the dark night sky was sublime, but as soon as he said please, I hissed out a hot breath.
“I do love that word from your lips.” Reluctantly removing my hands from his body, I stepped closer to the window. “Please, what?”
“Please fuck me.” Monroe pushed open the window, almost making me fall through it with his sexy words. “And please, could it be in the shower?”
