Worth It (Forbidden Men, #6)(32)

By the third meeting, I finally shed my baby-handling nerves and was able to hold Bentley throughout the entire visit. She even whined once and I didn’t freak...er, maybe I should say Knox successfully talked me through the panic.

We usually gossiped the entire time. He was so incredibly easy to talk to. I think I could tell him anything. I think I did tell him everything. We talked about Bentley, and school, and movies and music, and politics, religion, families, deep topics, frivolous topics, just...everything. If one of us thought of something to say, we said it. I even made his ears bleed with more cheesy jokes, because I suspected he secretly loved them.

I mean, how could he not like: What did the buffalo say to his son when he left for college? Bison.

I so caught him cracking a smile and shaking his head as he sighed after that one.

Somewhere inside me, I knew I should be more reserved, but there was just something about Knox Parker that had me opening up and sharing all my thoughts and dreams. Despite the fact he was the cutest freaking boy on the planet—which normally would’ve bottled me up tighter than a jar of ketchup—I sensed he understood me, all my passions, and insecurities, and thoughts and dreams about life. He became the best friend I’d ever had after only three visits.

The fourth time, however, he came empty-handed.

I’d been leaning against the tree, not ready to sit because I was wearing the cutest outfit I owned along with sparkly ballet flats, and I didn’t want to dirty them on the ground just yet—he had to see me at my best first. Pretending to read from my Kindle while I was actually glancing around for him every two seconds, my breath caught when I heard the crunch of leaves, signaling approaching footsteps.

I whipped my attention that way, and there he was, strolling through the shadows and the sunlight toward me. I sucked in a breath, freshly awed by how beautiful he was. It took me a second after he jammed his empty hands into his pocket, which lifted his shoulders in a nervous, unsure kind of manner, to realize he came sans baby. I jerked my gaze to his face to find apology in his eyes.

With my heart lodged in my throat, worried what bad thing he had to say, I tried to crack a joke to ease my own anxieties. Tapping a finger to my chin, I announced, “I can’t help but notice you look different today.” Imitating cradling a baby, I added, “No wiggling bundle of blankets in the arm area, maybe.”

“Yeah,” he said, a regretful sigh seeping from his lungs as his shoulders slouched. “About that. Apparently Bentley had a doctor’s appointment today I wasn’t aware of. If I’d known, I would’ve told you yesterday so you didn’t have to come all the way out here. I got to feeling so bad knowing you were probably waiting, I thought I’d let you know she wasn’t going to make it.”

“Oh.” I think he could hear the disappointment in my voice, which I truly tried to make sound bright and cheerful, because he winced. So, I quickly added, “That’s okay.” And it was. My disappointment honestly stemmed not at all from Bentley and totally from the fact I wouldn’t be able to spend the entire afternoon with him again.

“I’m sorry you came all this way to see her,” he started.

“No, really, it’s fine.” I waved him quiet. “But thank you for letting me know. That was...really considerate.”

He opened his mouth to respond but must’ve changed his mind because he just as quickly clamped his lips back together. With his hands still in his pockets, he cleared his throat. “Well...I wanted you to know.”

“Well...” I mumbled right back. “Thank you.”

Oh my God, what was going on? We were more nervous and unsure around each other now than the first day he’d run into me. What had happened to us being able to talk about anything?

When I realized it was Bentley’s fault, I gulped. She’d been the perfect little chaperone. With her always between us, acting as a sort of shield, she’d been a physical buffer that had helped us open up more emotionally.

But with her gone, leaving us alone, there was nothing between us at all.

Knox took a step backward. “So, yeah. I guess I’d better get out of your hair.”

I couldn’t hide my disappointment, even though I really, honestly tried. “Okay.”

He stopped in his tracks, and hope lit his gaze. “Unless...”

Perking to attention, I repeated, “Unless?”

“You want to hang out?” He shrugged and glanced away, as if it made no difference to him one way or another. Then he went and said, “I don’t have anything else to do until I have to leave for work at five, but if you’re busy, it’s cool. I can—”

“I’m not busy,” I rushed to say.

His gaze slashed to mine, hope once again sparkling in his brown eyes. “You’re not?”

I shook my head. “No. I could hang out.”

“Okay, then.” But he seemed to realize he’d been too eager, so he immediately backed off and shrugged again. “I mean, whatever.”

I bit my lip to hide a grin. But then neither of us spoke and neither of us moved; we just stood there, hanging out in complete silence.

“Do you, uh, do you want to walk?” I shrugged self-consciously. “I haven’t ventured out here much. We could explore.”

After a slow nod, he said, “I could walk.” His palm came out, extending my way.