Things We Never Got Over (Knockemout Book 1)

Even with the unwelcome intrusions of Naomi’s parents followed by the disapproving caseworker who’d been missing a signature on a page, I was in a great fucking mood when I returned to the hospital.

Sure, the whole pretending to be in a relationship thing was probably— definitely—going to be a pain in the ass. But it would get Naomi out of a jam and piss my brother off.

I’d woke up that morning knowing that once wasn’t going to be enough when it came to her. Now we could fool around for a few weeks, get each other out of our systems, and once her parents headed home, go back to our regular lives with itches scratched.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad gig.

I stepped into Nash’s room and found most of the Knockemout PD

crowded inside.

“Let me know what you find from the office and the storage unit,” Nash said from the bed. His color was a bit better.

“Sure glad you didn’t kick the bucket, son,” Grave said.

The rest of them nodded their agreement.

“Yeah, yeah. Now get the hell out of here and try to keep Knockemout from unraveling.”

I nodded to each cop as they left, thinking about what Naomi had said about Nash cleaning up the department to better serve the town.

She was right. I guess we both wanted to do right by the town that had given us a place to call home. “So. How’s Naomi?” Nash asked, sounding only a little irritated after the last officer walked out the door.

“Good,” I said.

Morgan men didn’t kiss and tell or fuck and tell. But I did allow the smallest of smirks.

“You fuck it up yet?”

“You’re hilarious when you’re pumped full of lead and drugs.”

He sighed, and I could tell he was already sick of being cooped up in the hospital.

“What’s with the staff meeting?” I asked.

“Couple of break-ins last night. An office and storage unit. Both owned by Rodney Gibbons. Office wasn’t bad. Someone got the petty cash and riffled through the safe, combination was on a sticky note next to the computer. Storage unit was trashed. No one saw anything at either place,” he explained.

“How long they keeping you?” I asked.

Nash used his thumb to scratch between his eyebrows, a tell of frustration.

“Too fucking long. Said the soonest I can get out is a couple of days.

Then it’s PT to see how much mobility I can get back.”

If Nash didn’t get back to 100%, he’d be handcuffed to a desk for the rest of his career. Something even I knew he’d hate.

“Then don’t fuck around,” I advised. “Do what the docs say. Do your PT

and get your shit together. No one wants you riding a desk.”

“Yeah. Luce is digging into it,” he said, changing the subject. He didn’t sound happy about it.

“Is he?” I hedged.

“You damn well know he is. It’s police business. I don’t need either of you amateurs out on the streets stirring shit up.”

I was offended by the amateur remark. We’d been professional hell-raisers in our day. And though I might be a little rusty, I had a feeling our friend was even more dangerous now than he’d been at seventeen.

“Your boys get anything on the guy?” I asked.

Nash shook his head. “Stolen car. Wiped clean on the outskirts of Lawlerville. Locals found it about an hour ago.”

“How clean?”

He shrugged, then winced. “Dunno yet. No prints on the wheel or door handles.”

“Asshole’s dumb enough to shoot a cop, he’s dumb enough to leave prints somewhere,” I predicted.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He was moving his legs restlessly under the thin white blanket. “Heard Liza has a few new guests.”

I nodded. “Naomi’s parents. Showed up this morning. Guess they’re anxious to meet their granddaughter.”

“Heard that too. Also heard that you made quite the impression coming downstairs in your birthday suit.”

“Your grapevine needs some pruning. I was wearing underwear.”

“Bet her dad loved that.”

“He handled it.”

“Wonder how you stack up against the ex-fiancé?” he mused.

“Her parents weren’t fans of the ex,” I said. Though I wasn’t sure how I compared in Naomi’s eyes.

I peered down at Nash’s untouched lunch tray. Broth and ginger ale.

“How the hell are you supposed to survive on clear liquids?”

My brother made a face. “Something about not taxing the system. I’d kill for a burger and fries. The boys are too scared of the nurses to sneak in any contraband.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised. “Gotta head out. Some shit to take care of before the big family dinner tonight celebrating Way’s first day and Naomi’s parents coming to town.”

“I hate you,” Nash said. But there was no real heat to his words.

“Let this be a lesson to you, little brother. You gotta make your moves faster or else someone else’ll make ’em for you.”

I started for the door.

“Tell Way to let me know if anyone at school messes with her,” Nash called.

“Will do.”

“Tell Naomi she’s welcome to swing by any time.”

“Not happening.”

LIZA J’S house no longer smelled like a mothball museum. It might have had something to do with someone opening the door to let four dogs in or out every five minutes.

Then again, it probably had more to do with the fact that rooms that hadn’t been touched in fifteen years were getting Naomi’s floor-to-ceiling treatment. Dusty drapes and the windows behind them opened wide.

The lights were on in the den, a room that hadn’t been used since the house had welcomed paying guests. I spied Stef behind the desk on the phone, staring at the laptop in front of him.

There was music coming from the kitchen, and I could hear the sounds of people socializing in the backyard.

Maybe not all change was bad.

I knelt to give the pack of dogs their rubs. Naomi’s parents’ dog, Beeper, was standing on one of Waylon’s ears.

“Fuck yeah!”

The exclamation came from the den. Stef closed his laptop triumphantly and stood behind the desk, arms overhead in a V.

The dogs, excited by his excitement, charged the doors and barreled into the room.

“Okay, no. Everyone out,” Stef said. “These are very expensive Gucci loafers you’re destroying with your doggy toenails.”

“Good news?” I asked as he exited the den. The dogs took off toward the kitchen, moving as one clumsy organism of slobber and barks.

“Don’t buddy up to me. I’m still mad at you,” he said.

When Naomi and I brought her parents over to meet my grandmother, Stef had tried to cover the fact that he’d been in town for days.

No one would have bought his “what a coincidence, I just got here this morning” bullshit for long.

I just helped them get there by telling Mandy and Lou what a relief it was to have Stef under Liza’s roof for such a long visit.

“You’ll get over it,” I predicted.

“Just wait until you disappoint Mandy,” he said. “It feels like kicking a litter of kittens.”

I didn’t really have anyone in my life to disappoint.

I followed him into the dining room, where my grandmother’s buffet had been transformed into a high-end bar complete with cut lemons and limes, an ice bucket, and several bottles of decent liquor.

“What are you drinking?” he asked me. “Bourbon or beer.”

“It’s too hot for straight, room temperature liquor and beer isn’t celebratory enough. We’re having G&Ts.”

I could roll with that. “What are we celebrating?”

“Naomi’s house,” he said. “It went on the market two days ago, and she has three offers. Let’s hope she thinks it’s good news.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t she?”

Stef shot me a bland look, then started scooping ice into two highball glasses. “You know how some people have dream houses? Well, Naomi had the next-step house. She loved it. It was the perfect place to start a family.

The right neighborhood. The right size. The right number of bathrooms.

Giving up that house is like giving up on all her dreams.”

“Plans change,” I said as he cracked open a bottle of tonic water.

“I’ll say since she had no intention of getting in bed with you.”

“Here we go,” I muttered. “This is the part where you tell me I’m not good enough for her and I tell you to fuck off.”

He poured a healthy slug of gin into each glass. “Let’s skip to the bottom line. She’s giving up everything to clean up Tina’s mess. Again. As long as you’re a pleasant distraction and not another mess to fix, I won’t destroy your life.”

“Gee, thanks. By the way, same goes if you hook up with Jer.”

To Stef’s credit, he didn’t fumble the lime slices or sprigs of rosemary he was adding to each glass when I mentioned my best friend.

“So that’s what it feels like to have an obnoxious meddler sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,” he said evenly.

“Yeah. Not great, is it?”

“Message received. Maybe a short-term palate cleanser is exactly what she needs to get Warner Fuckface the Third out of her head and start planning a life for herself and Way.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said, ignoring the way “palate cleanser” rubbed me the wrong way.

“Cheers. Let’s go tell our girl that in fifteen days her money troubles are officially over if she’s willing to kiss her dreams good-bye.”

We headed into the sunroom and out onto the deck. The humidity had broken just enough that it was almost comfortable outside. Oldies music poured from a speaker on the table.

Lou was manning the grill. The sizzle and scent of red meat made my mouth water. Amanda and my grandmother were sitting in Adirondack chairs, shading their eyes from the lowering sun.

The dogs, wet now, shook and sunned themselves in the grass.

But what caught and held my attention was Naomi. She was knee-deep in the creek, sunglasses on. That short, dark swing of hair pulled back in a clip.

She was wearing a coral bikini that showed off every curve I’d enjoyed that morning.

Waylay, in a pink polka-dotted bathing suit, doubled over and scooped two hands of cold creek water at her aunt.

Naomi’s shriek and ensuing laughter as she attempted to exact revenge on the kid hit me someplace besides my cock. I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the damn good gin and tonic in my hand.

Amanda adjusted her straw hat and sighed. “This is heaven,” she said to my grandmother.

“You must have had a different Bible than the one I grew up on,” Liza quipped.

“I always dreamed of having a big family in a big house. All these generations and dogs all tangled up in each other’s lives. I guess sometimes we’re just not meant for certain things.” She said it wistfully.

Stef cleared his throat. “Ladies, can I freshen up those Long Island iced teas?”

Liza held up her empty glass. “I could do another round.”

“I’m still working on mine, sweetie,” Amanda told him.

“Have you decided to forgive me?” Stef asked.

“Well, you did sneak down here without a word,” she said, lowering her sunglasses to give him what I identified as a Mom Look. “But you were just looking out for my girl. Anyone who does that is always all right in my book.”

Stef dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Thanks, Mandy.”

Naomi and Waylay were now in a full-fledged splash battle. Arcs of water rose high, catching glints of the late afternoon sun.

“How much time left on those burgers, Lou?” Liza called.

“Five minutes,” he said.

“Knox,” Amanda said, drawing my attention.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Take a walk with me,” she said.

Uh-oh.

Stef flashed a smug look at me and disappeared inside with Liza’s glass.

I followed Amanda to the end of the deck and down the stairs into the yard. It felt like only yesterday that it was Nash and me in the creek fooling around, scaring the fish. Pop manning the grill.

She slid her arm through mine as we walked.

“You’ve only known Naomi for a short time,” she began.

I already didn’t like where this was going.

“Sometimes you don’t need a history to see the future,” I said, sounding like a damn fortune cookie.

She squeezed my arm. “I meant, in her entire life, my daughter has never jumped into anything, especially bed with someone.”

I didn’t know what to say to that so I kept my mouth shut.

“She’s a born caretaker. Always fussing over everyone else in the room.

It’s no surprise to me that she’d step up to keep Waylay even when the rest of her life is spiraling out of control. She gives until she’s got nothing left.”

This wasn’t news to me. If Naomi wasn’t slinging drinks to customers, she was doing everyone else’s side work in the kitchen or cleaning out Liza’s mausoleum of a house.

“You brought her a cup of coffee doctored up just the way she likes it,” she continued. “She also told me that you got her this place to stay and gave her a job. You drive her home. Stef mentioned you got her a cell phone when she didn’t have one.”

I was getting antsy. I wasn’t known for my patience with conversations when I didn’t know where they were going.

“She’s a worrier but doesn’t want anyone worrying about her,” Amanda continued.

“I get that.”

“You worrying about her, you taking care of her when you only just met, says a lot about your character. So does the fact Naomi let you into her bed without the usual ninety-nine-point inspection.”

I was equal parts uncomfortable and oddly pleased.

“All due respect, Amanda, I don’t like talking about your daughter’s sex life with you.”

“That’s because you’re a man, sweetie,” she said, patting my arm. “I just want you to know that I see how you’re taking care of my girl. In all their time together, I never once saw Warner bring her a cup of coffee. Never once saw him do anything that benefited her unless it benefited him too. So thank you for that. Thank you for seeing my girl and wanting to be there for her.”

“You’re welcome.” It seemed like the appropriate response.

“Out of curiosity, why do you call her Daisy?” she asked.

“She had flowers in her hair when I met her.”

Amanda’s smile broadened. “She left Warner and drove straight to you without even knowing it. Isn’t that something?”

I didn’t know if it was something or nothing. “Yeah. Something.”

“Well, I like you, Knox. Lou will come around. Eventually. But I like you already.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Liza J bellowed from the deck. “Get your behinds around the table.”

“I’m starving,” Amanda announced. “Why don’t you get our girls out of the creek?”

“Uh…sure.”

I stood there as Naomi’s mother made a beeline for the house steps.

Naomi’s laugh and another splash caught my attention.

I walked over to the edge of the creek and whistled. Waylay and Naomi paused their water fight, both laughing and dripping.

“Dinner’s ready. Get your asses out of the water,” I said.

“He’s so bossy,” Naomi said in a stage whisper. Waylay let out a girlish giggle.

I tossed a starfish towel over Waylay’s wet head. “How was your first day, kid?”

“Fine,” she said, peering quizzically out from under the towel.

The kid was a fucking rock. Abandoned by a no-good mother. Taken in by an aunt she didn’t know. Then meeting her grandparents for the first time on the first day of school. And it was fine.

She turned and ran for the stairs and the promise of food.

“Go wash your hands, Way,” Naomi called after her.

“Why? I just got out of the water!” Waylay yelled back.

“Then at least don’t pet the dogs until after you eat!”

“Fine. That’s all she’d tell me too,” Naomi said as I helped her up onto the bank.

“You worried?” I asked, unable to tear my gaze off her breasts.

“Of course I am. How am I going to fix any problems if I don’t know they exist?”

“So talk to the teacher,” I said, watching the outline of her nipples get more pronounced under the two triangles of fabric that stood between me and what I wanted.

“I think I will,” she said. “How’s Nash doing?”

Instead of answering, I clamped a hand over her wrist and hauled her over to the shady patio under the deck. Her skin was cold from the creek. Seeing her curves all wet like that was messing with my head.

I picked up the fluffy beach towel next to her neatly folded clothing on one of the lounge chairs that hadn’t seen the light of day in years and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, bending over in front of me to run the towel through her hair.

A man only had so much self-control, and I’d just reached my limit.

I pulled the towel out of her hands and walked her backwards until her back met the support column.

“Knox—” I pressed a finger to her mouth then pointed above us.

“Who wants medium rare?” Lou asked.

“Stef, this drink ain’t gonna refill itself,” Liza J said.

“What are you doing?” Naomi whispered.

Pinning her in place with my hips, she got the message pretty damn quick. When her mouth opened in an O, I yanked the triangles of her top apart.

Full, luscious, wet. My mouth watered, and it had nothing to do with the food being passed above us.

“Jesus, Daze. I see you like this, and I can’t wait to get back in your bed.”

I dipped my head and closed my mouth over one chilled peak. Her sexy little gasp, the way her hands clamped on my shoulders, the way she leaned into my mouth like she wanted it as bad as I did. It all went straight to my dick.

“I’d fuck you right here if I thought for a second I could get away with it.”

She took one hand off my shoulder and shoved it between our bodies, cupping my erection through my jeans. I covered her hand with mine and squeezed. Hard. I thrust against our hands, greedy for the friction.

“Kids! Dinner,” Amanda called from above us.

“Aunt Naomi, how many green beans do I hafta eat?”

The glassiness in Naomi’s eyes cleared. “Oh. My. God,” she mouthed at me.

I gave both nipples a not-so-gentle tweak before readjusting her top. I wanted to fuck her in that bikini. To untie one or two of those strings and guarantee all the right access. Then I wanted to take her every way possible until neither one of us could walk. Instead, I was going to have dinner with a hard-on and an audience.

Sometimes life just wasn’t fucking fair.

She slugged me in the shoulder. “What is wrong with you?” she hissed. “Our families are right up there!”

“A whole lot of things,” I said with a grin.

“You’re the worst. We’re coming!” she yelled.

“We will be later,” I promised under my breath.