Steal Vows

Chapter Four~Not Yet!

Chapter Four: Not Yet!

Knox walked around the trailer, looking at the structure, making sure it was good enough for her. He glanced over in her direction as she ran her hand over the couch like he'd just given her a million dollars. He thought to himself... Why does she see so much in so little? What makes her tick?

He turned back to the dealer and said to him, "I want it stocked with propane, fully charged batteries and a new mattress. This one is too thin. And I want it tonight, not tomorrow."

She whipped her head around. Excitement covered her face before she could hide it away again.

"Really...Tonight? I get to sleep in here tonight?"

Knox saw the excitement, and it filled him with a strange feeling that he'd only ever felt when he was with a child. He thought: Wow, she is so light.

Knox looked into her eyes and said, "Yes, you need to feel safe, and I think this is how we start. Come on, let's leave them to it and get some lunch. I'm starving."

As they walked toward the truck to get lunch and discuss what she would need, her bike was being delivered to the property by a prospect. He decided to let her know, thinking it would make her feel freer. But at the same time, he also needed to tell her his other plan.

Knox pulled out his phone before they reached the truck, texting Marcus about the propane delivery. `Tonight. I want full tanks at Moss Lake.`

The prospect responded within seconds: `I'm already en route with her bike, and Reaper is going to give me a ride back. We can pick up the tank on the way back. ETA 90 minutes.`

Knox pocketed the phone and headed toward the diner across the street, the lunch crowd thinning out as the afternoon settled in. He slid into a booth, ordering coffee without asking what she wanted. The waitress knew better than to interrupt. Tessa cleared her throat and said to the waitress, "I would like some sweet tea please" and she walked away to carryout their order without another word.

Tess looked at Knox with wonder. How could someone who was so sweet earlier be so rude the next moment? she thought to herself as he started talking about logistics.

"You'll need a generator for backup. The winds can come suddenly around here and knock out power for a few days," he said as he scanned the laminated menu and continued, "And a propane heater for the nights. Winter comes hard here, and if you lose power, the furnace might not work."

His eyes lifted to hers over the menu. "What else?"

Tess tilted her head to get a good look at this complicated man and said,

"The trailer has a built-in propane heater, and it's summer, Knox. I'm fine, thanks. Maybe a fan. A battery-operated one cuz no power tonight, so no air conditioning. Water tank needs to be filled and drained, then refilled, because the pump house won't work until it has power. Firewood and an extinguisher for the fire pit, a bucket for water. Oh, are there fish in the lake?"

Knox nodded once, filing that away into the list, and thought: No complaints, no drama-just logistics. She has a very analytical mind. He appreciated that.

"Yeah, bass, catfish, some bluegill. Lake's stocked. Good eating if you know how to fish."

The waitress set his coffee down in front of him. He didn't touch it yet, as he watched Tessa across the table.

"I'll have Marcus grab a battery fan, firewood, extinguisher and the buckets. They'll be there before dark."

He leaned back, his massive frame making the booth feel smaller.

"Are you planning to fish or just looking at the water?"

There was something in his tone-genuine curiosity maybe, not interrogation as was usual with him. He was asking because he wanted to know what she did when she was alone.

"I don't know how to fish for catfish but bass and trout are more my style. I have a collapsible fishing pole in my gear. I like to fish sometimes but I love to swim. I'll probably be swimming every day." She chuckled softly as she asked the waitress for more sweet tea and handed her back the menu.

The waitress returned with Tessa's second tea. Knox ordered without looking at the menu-burger, rare, no sides. She ordered chicken fried steak and fries with a side salad. Knox watched her, remembering the small smile that played at her lips as she mentioned swimming. Every day. The image hit him harder than it should-her in the water, skin glistening, moving through the lake like she owned it.

He shifted slightly as the image affected him.

"Water's warm this time of year. Seventy-eight degrees." His coffee sat untouched as the waitress left and his mind went back to that swimming suit.

He leaned forward again slightly, elbows on the table. "Do you like to fish in a raft as well?" he asked her.

"Yes. I do. I used to have one but I sold it last year trying to make ends meet. I was having a hard time this time last year," she said as she stirred her ice with her straw and took a sip, sending a shiver down his spine that he did not expect.

Knox absorbed that-hard times, selling things that mattered. He didn't ask what kind of hard times. Not yet. But it settled something in him, a piece of the puzzle.

"You'll get another one. I'm sure of it."

He said it flat, like it was already decided. His coffee finally reached his lips, black and bitter.

"There's a dock at the property. Sturdy and strong. I had it built two years ago. You can launch from there. When did you sell it?"

Not a question really, more of a demand for the timeline, for understanding the shape of her desperation last year.

Tess looked over at him, understanding exactly what he was doing. Fishing...but she had nothing to hide. She was who she was. So if he wanted to know...

"Ummm, it was in June last year. Just over a year now, with July being next week, I guess." She shrugged as if it was no biggie. "Things come and go," she said. "I'm pretty good at getting things, not so great at keeping them. I guess that's why I'd always wanted a piece of property of my own, so I could build something that I wouldn't lose."

Knox went quiet. That admission-land, roots, something permanent-cut through his usual detachment. He understood that hunger. He built Nightmare from the scraps of what his father left. Carved out territory that couldn't be taken. Control through ownership.

"July's next week. Yes," he said quietly. "My birthday month too."

The waitress set his burger down. He didn't touch it. He was too busy studying her across the table.

"You won't lose Moss Lake. Not while I'm alive."

It was not a promise wrapped in sentiment. It was a statement of fact, delivered with the weight of someone who enforced what he said. His eyes held hers, and there was something possessive flickering there-not of her, but of the idea of her staying, building, and claiming ground.

But at the same time, was he fooling himself if he thought for even a second that he didn't want her in every single way she would let him? He swallowed hard at the thought of what her lips might taste like or how her soft skin might feel under his fingers.

Knox's hand tightened around the coffee mug. He forced himself to look away from her, jaw tight as heat pooled low in his gut. Fifty-five years old and she was undoing him like no one ever had.

Tess studied him for a moment. He looked flustered in some way. She wondered if he was acting or trying to force something. She wasn't sure. So she said,

"Mr. Knox, I agreed to a week. Nothing more. Please don't try to make this more than what we agreed before I have considered everything."

That "Mr. Knox" statement gut-punched him, but he nodded and took a bite of his burger. He didn't taste it, but he needed the distraction to regain control. His fingers drummed once against the table- a tell, a crack in the armor.

"I understand. But please, no Mr. Knox... I'm Knox, or when we're alone, you can call me Adrian, but please, never Mr. Knox."

Tessa smiled and nodded her head and took a bite of her lunch.

"And Tessa? I truly think that once you get a taste of it here you'll want to stay. The property's got good bones." His voice was rougher than before. "You'll be comfortable there."

His eyes continued to drift back to her, catching the way the afternoon light hit her face, the curve of her neck. He shifted in the booth, crossing his legs under the table. f**k. This isn't supposed to happen. Not with her. Not like this... he thought to himself.

But it was, and he needed to get a grip, so he excused himself from the table to use the restroom. Hopefully she wouldn't bolt.

She didn't though. She did feel the electricity starting to form between them and was confused about it as she took a bite of her chicken fried steak and watched him walk away.

The restroom was wonderfully empty. Knox gripped the sink, letting the water run cold as he dipped his wrists and splashed it on his face. He stared at his reflection- the hard lines, the scar tissue, and the eyes of a man who had spent most of his life shutting people out. His mother had been gone for forty-four years. He couldn't even remember her.

And she was dismantling them with a lunch and sweet tea... He splashed water on his face again, breathed through his mouth, attempting to release the tension coiling in his chest. This is weakness. A distraction. Everything he had trained himself against. But when he closed his eyes, he saw her in that lake, saw her hands on his skin, imagined sounds he had never let himself imagine before... and yet there they were in living color.

Knox straightened, gripped the edge of the sink hard enough to crack it.

"Not yet...Control it."

When he returned to the booth, she was watching him. He sat down without meeting her gaze, finished his burger in silence as the electricity between them hummed like a live wire.

Yet...she picked up on him trying to deny it. She understood he didn't really want her. He felt attracted to the idea of her, and they were two very different things. She agreed to accept it as well and pretended it was not there, just as he did. It was not a good idea for her to think about that either. So she chose to just be as indifferent as he was.

The meal continued in practiced silence. Knox finished his burger methodically, each bite a deliberate action. She picked at her chicken fried steak and nibbled on the fries. Neither reached across the table. Neither made eye contact longer than necessary.

He signaled the waitress for the check without asking if she was done. Businesslike and efficient.