Home > Books > Things We Hide from the Light (Knockemout, #2)(5)

Things We Hide from the Light (Knockemout, #2)(5)

Author:Lucy Score

It wasn’t that she was desperate for a wedding and grandkids. It was that my parents wouldn’t take an easy breath until I had someone in my life who was going to take over the role of worried protector. It didn’t matter how self-sufficient I’d become. To my mom and dad, I was still a fifteen-year-old in a hospital bed.

“You know, your father and I were just talking about getting away for the weekend. We could hop on a flight and be there this weekend.”

The last thing I needed was either of my parents shadowing me around town while I tried to work.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be in town,” I said diplomatically. “I could be heading home any day now.” Unlikely, unless I found something that led the case in a new direction. But still, at least it wasn’t an outright lie.

“I don’t understand how running corporate trainings can be so open-ended,” Mom mused. Fortunately, before I had to craft a plausible answer, I heard another muffled comment on her end. “I have to go, sweetie. Meeting’s starting. Anyway, let me know when you’re heading back to Atlanta. We’ll fly down and visit before you come home for Thanksgiving. If we time it right, we can go to your appointment with you.”

Yeah. Because I was going to go to a doctor’s appointment with my parents in tow. Sure. “We’ll talk about it later,” I said.

“I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too.”

I disconnected and let out a sigh that ended on a groan. Even from hundreds of miles away, my mother still managed to make me feel like she was holding a pillow over my face.

There was a knock at my door, and I shot a wary look at it, wondering if my mom was waiting to surprise me on the other side.

But then came a thump that sounded like an irritated boot at the base of my door. It was followed by a gruff, “Open up, Lina. This shit is heavy.”

I crossed the room and yanked open the door to find Knox Morgan, his pretty fiancée, Naomi, and Naomi’s niece, Waylay, standing in the hallway.

Naomi was grinning and holding a potted plant. Knox was scowling and lugging what looked like a hundred pounds of bedding. Waylay looked bored holding two pillows.

“So this is what happens when I move out of the roach motel? People start dropping in unannounced?” I said.

“Move it.” Knox muscled his way past me under an off-white duvet.

“Sorry to barge in like this, but we wanted to give you your housewarming gifts,” Naomi said. She was a tall brunette whose wardrobe trended toward girlie. Everything about her was soft: her wavy bob, the jersey knit of her long-sleeve dress over her generous curves, the way she appreciated the very nice ass of her fiancé, who was stalking toward my bedroom.

Nice butts ran in the Morgan family. According to Naomi’s mom, Amanda, Nash’s ass in his uniform pants was considered a local treasure.

Waylay sidled across the threshold. Her blond hair was tied back in a ponytail that showed off temporary blue highlights. “Here,” she said, shoving the pillows at me.

“Thanks, but I’m not moving in moving in,” I pointed out, tossing them on the couch.

“Knockemout has a way of turning into home,” Naomi said, handing me the plant.

She would know. She’d arrived a few months ago thinking she was helping her twin sister out of a jam only to be thrown into one herself. In the space of a few weeks, Naomi had become guardian to her niece, picked up two jobs, gotten abducted, and made Knox “I Don’t Do Relationships” Morgan fall in love with her.

Now, they lived in a big house just outside town surrounded by dogs and family and were planning a wedding. I made a mental note to someday introduce my mom to Naomi. She’d lose her mind over the real-life happily ever after.

Knox returned from the bedroom empty-handed. “Happy housewarming. Bed’s coming this afternoon.”

I blinked. “You got me a bed?”

“Deal with it,” he said, slinging an arm around Naomi’s shoulders and pulling her into his side.

Naomi elbowed him in the gut. “Be polite.”

“No,” he growled.

They made quite a picture. The tall, tattooed, bearded grump and the curvy, beaming brunette.

“What the Viking means to say is, we’re glad you’re staying in town and we thought a bed would make your stay more comfortable,” Naomi translated.

Waylay flopped down on top of the pillows on the couch. “Where’s the TV?” she asked.

“I don’t have one yet. But when I get one, I’m calling you to help me hook it up, Way.”

“Fifteen bucks,” she said, tucking her hands behind her head. The kid was an electronics genius and had no problem making a few bucks off her talents.

“Waylay,” Naomi said, exasperated.

“What? I’m giving her the friends and family discount.”

I tried to remember if I’d ever been close enough to anyone to earn a family and friends discount before.

Knox winked at Waylay, then gave Naomi another squeeze. “I gotta talk to Nash about something,” he said, hooking his thumb toward my door. “You need anything else, Leens, let me know.”

“Hey, I’m just happy I don’t have to fight an army of cockroaches for the shower here. Thanks for letting me move in temporarily.”

He tossed me a salute and a half grin as he headed for the door.

Naomi shuddered. “That motel is a health hazard.”

“At least it had a TV,” Waylay called from my empty bedroom.

“Waylay! What are you doing?” her aunt demanded.

“Snooping,” the twelve-year-old replied, appearing in the doorway, hands in the bedazzled pockets of her jeans. “It’s okay. She doesn’t have anything in here yet.”

A loud thudding came from the hallway. “Open up, asshole,” Knox growled.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “I apologize for my family. Apparently they were all raised by wolves.”

“Uncivilized has its own kind of charm,” I pointed out. Realizing I was still holding the plant, I took it over to the window and placed it on top of one of the empty crates. It had glossy green leaves.

“It’s lily of the valley. It won’t bloom until the spring, but it symbolizes happiness,” Naomi explained.

Of course it did. Naomi was expert-level thoughtful.

“The other reason we’re bursting in on you like this is we wanted to invite you over for dinner Sunday night,” she continued.

“We’re grilling chicken, but there’ll probably be about a hundred vegetables,” Waylay warned as she wandered over to the front window to peer out.

A dinner I didn’t have to order and the chance to enjoy domesticated Knox? I wasn’t about to pass up that invitation. “Sure. Let me know what I can bring.”

“Just bring yourself. Honestly, between me, my parents, and Stef, we’ll have a feast,” Naomi assured me.

“How about alcohol?” I offered.

“We’ll never turn that down,” she admitted.

“And a bottle of Yellow Lightning,” Waylay said.

Naomi shot Waylay a parental warning look.

“Please,” the girl amended.

“If you want an entire bottle of that tooth-rotting soda, you’re going to eat a salad with your pizza at lunch today and broccoli with dinner tonight,” Naomi insisted.

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