There was something about the way he hesitated that gave me a bad feeling. “Is Liza okay? Did something happen at Honky Tonk?”
“Relax, Daisy. Everybody and everything is fine.”
He fired off a response and started the truck.
We headed east and joined the slog of Northern Virginia traffic. I checked my tidy stack of cash again while Knox and Waylay made small talk. I tuned them out and tried to squash the anxiety. Yesterday at the library, I’d logged into my accounts to confirm some budget numbers. Money was tight. The bar shifts and free rent were helping. But my income wasn’t enough to impress any judge in any court, especially not if I added a car payment into the mix.
I had three options: 1. Find a day job while Waylay was in school. 2. Borrow against my retirement savings. 3. Sell my house on Long Island.
Inwardly, I cringed. It had represented so much more to me than just three bedrooms and two baths. It was a gratifying step that was part of a larger plan. I’d landed a good job at Warner’s family’s investment firm, fallen for him, and bought a nice house to start a family.
If I sold it, I was officially saying good-bye to the dream. Then where would I go after my six months of temporary guardianship with Waylay were up?
By the time we got to the mall, I was marinating in the misery of regrets and failures.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said to Knox, who was now on his phone carrying on a conversation that seemed to consist of monosyllabic questions and answers. I hopped out, still clutching my coffee.
Waylay climbed out of the backseat and slammed her door.
I expected him to accelerate away, leaving us in a cloud of fumes, but instead he got out and shoved his phone in his back pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Are you shopping with us?” Waylay asked. She didn’t sound horrified—she sounded excited.
Damn you, Knox Morgan.
“Got some things on my own shopping list. Figured you ladies could show me the ropes.”
We entered the air-conditioned mall, and with a cursory glance in my direction, Waylay made a beeline for an accessories store.
As soon as she disappeared into the store, I grabbed Knox’s tattooed arm. “What. Are. You. Doing?”
“Shopping.”
“You don’t shop. You don’t go to malls.”
He rolled back on his heels, looking amused. “That a fact?”
“You’re the kind of guy who wears his clothes until they disintegrate, and then you either start wearing something some female relative got you for Christmas or you order the same exact thing you wore out online. You do not go to malls. You do not shop with girls.”
Knox moved into my space. Those eyes, more gray than blue today, went serious. “You got a problem with me tagging along?”
“Yes! What are you doing here, Knox? I’m trying to bond with Waylay. Everything else I’ve tried so far hasn’t put a crack in those walls. She’s got a poker face at age eleven because of the amount of disappointment she’s already faced. I want to see her smile. A real smile.”
“Jesus, Naomi. I’m not here to fuck that up.”
“Then why are you here?”
Waylay knocked on her side of the store window and held up two pairs of earrings to her unpierced lobes. I gave her a thumbs-up and mentally added “Pierce Waylay’s ears” to the list.
“I got my reasons. Just like I got my reasons for not telling you.”
“That’s not an acceptable answer.”
We were almost touching now, and my body was getting confused between the cold air conditioning and the heat pumping off his spectacular body.
“Only answer you’re getting for now.”
“This is why you’re single,” I pointed out. “No woman in her right mind would put up with that.”
“I’m single because I wanna be,” he countered.
I was mid eye-roll when he decided to change the subject. “So you’re trying to buy your way in with Way?”
“Yes, I am. Girls like presents.”
“Do you like presents?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, Knox. I don’t. I freaking love presents.”
It was true. I did.
Warner had half-assed his way through the past few years of Christmas and birthdays, making me feel materialistic when I’d shown any disappointment at the thoughtless gifts in the wrong sizes.
Knox cracked a half smile. “So, where’s the funding coming from for this spree? I know what you make at Honky Tonk.”
I craned my neck to make sure Waylay was still inside. She was trying on a braided headband in pink and purple. It looked freaking adorable, and I itched to go in and drag her to the counter with it.