Things We Left Behind (Knockemout, #3)



“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I am not lying to my family and telling them we’re in a relationship,” I said as I violently massaged the kale. We were in the kitchen working around Meow Meow, who decided the island was the perfect place to sprawl out for a nap. Candles were lit, music was playing, and whatever we were making smelled good enough to make my stomach growl.

Lucian drowned out the rest of my concerns by turning on the blender and smoldering at me until I closed my mouth.

“I’m not playing any games, Pix,” he said, abandoning the blender to open a bottle of wine.

Still grumbling, I handed him two glasses. “You can’t just pretend your way into a relationship.”

“You’re the one who’s pretending,” he said, setting a glass of wine in front of the bowl of kale. “By the way, the instructions say massage, not murder.”

“I’m pretending it’s your face.”

“You’ll get used to the idea sooner or later,” he said confidently.

I abandoned the kale. “That’s it. Give me your cigarette. I know you didn’t smoke yet today, so hand it over.”

He looked up from the shredded chicken he was plating. “I quit.”

“You quit?” I repeated.

“You don’t date smokers,” he reminded me.

“You quit your one and only dirty habit for me?”

He slid the plate of chicken across the island next to the lump of cat. She raised her head and sniffed skeptically.

“Why should you find that so hard to believe?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Stop trying to bribe my cat into liking you. She’s not going to fall for your pandering. And stop trying to convince me you’ve had some change of heart. Just days ago, you were dating anything that moved.”

The cat flopped back down, pretending like she had no interest in the juicy chicken.

“They were decoys,” he said.

“Decoys?” I parroted.

“If Anthony Hugo wanted to come after something that mattered to me, I wasn’t going to take any chances that that something would be you.”

I snorted even though I was secretly pleased with his answer. “You could have put them in danger.”

“Not if I only saw them once. If it was clear there was no attachment.”

Lucian Rollins was in my kitchen, cooking dinner for my family and willingly answering questions. This was an opportunity I didn’t want to pass up no matter how pissed I was at him.

“So why did you end things with me then?” I asked, taking what I hoped was a casual sip of wine.

He looked away.

“Aha! See?” I slapped the counter triumphantly. “I can’t be in a relationship with someone who refuses to be honest with me.”

Lucian rounded the corner and boxed me in. “You are in a relationship with me whether you like it or not. And if you want my honesty, it’s going to require some patience on your part.”

“What are you talking about?” I said as he leaned into me. My hands automatically went to his chest. Everything about him felt so solid, so good, so right. Except I knew better than to trust that feeling.

“You’re asking questions that involve answers I’ve never put into words before. I don’t know how to explain to you why I am the way I am or why I’m trying to change that now. Yet. But I will find a way.”

“Do you maybe have a timeline on that?” His mouth was hovering just above mine. I hadn’t kissed him in so long. My entire body wanted to be reminded of what his lips felt like against mine. My entire body except for my brain, which was sending me SOS signals.

“I’ll let you know after my next therapy appointment,” he said huskily.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” I whispered.

The doorbell rang, jolting me out of my stupor. Lucian grinned down at me and kissed the tip of my nose. “I’ll get it.”

I sagged against the counter and watched him leave. Meow Meow did the same. The second he disappeared from the room, she hefted her fluffy bulk onto her feet and gobbled up the bribery chicken like it was laced with catnip.

“Traitor.”



“Thank you again for joining us,” Lucian said, topping off my mother’s glass of wine.

I’d cleared off the dining room table and massaged some kale, but Lucian Freaking Rollins had arranged blossoms off my cherry tree, cued up music, lit candles, and made an epically delicious meal for my family.

Mom looked like she was happy enough to shoot rainbows out of her eyes and her butt. Maeve looked properly suspicious. Meanwhile, Chloe sipped her chocolate milk and stared at Lucian like she was trying to figure out how to weasel a new wardrobe out of the man.

“It’s our pleasure. And I have to say it’s really nice to see the two of you together,” Mom said sunnily from the opposite side of the table. I didn’t know if it was a conscious or subconscious decision, but we’d left Dad’s place at the head of the table empty.

“We’re not together. He just won’t take the hint and get out of my house,” I said.

“And it does a mother’s heart good to know that you’re keeping my daughter safe,” Mom continued, ignoring me.

“With Sloane being an obvious target, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show whoever’s watching that she’s protected.” Lucian’s eyes slid to me. “By me,” he added firmly.

Maeve kicked me under the table.

“Ouch!” I reached down and rubbed my shin.

“Is everything all right?” Lucian asked.

My sister looked at me pointedly.

“Yeah. Fine. The cat just stabbed me in the leg,” I lied.

Meow Meow chose that moment to wander into the dining room from the kitchen.

“So, Mr. Lucian, you look like you have good taste. Where do you think a tween could get some reasonably priced cashmere?” Chloe asked.

“Maeve, can you help me get more…uh…kale in the kitchen?” I said.

My sister vaulted out of her chair and grabbed her wineglass. I took the cue and my wineglass and followed her into the kitchen.

“So you two are just playing house now?” Maeve said, whirling around to face me.

With a sharp shush, I dragged her through the kitchen and into the family room. “I’m not playing anything. He won’t leave!”

“Yeah, okay,” she scoffed.

“Have you ever tried to make Lucian Rollins do something he didn’t want to do?”

“No, but I know you’re probably the only person on the planet who could,” she shot back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you two have been something to each other since the beginning of time. And if you really wanted him gone, he’d be gone. So maybe you’re thinking he deserves a second chance.”

“He already had one of those,” I reminded her.

“Fine. A last chance.”

I cocked my head. “Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

“What? I’m not saying I think you should give him another chance. I’m just suggesting that the two of you bonded over a traumatic incident and now appear to be living together.”

I held up my palms in defense. “Listen, I’m too busy to even consider getting into a relationship with him. Hell, I’m too busy to kick him out properly.”

“Believe me, I get it. But maybe at a certain point, you start wondering if being busy is keeping you from having a real life,” Maeve said.

“Okay, now I’m actually worried about you,” I decided. After the attacker cornered me in my Jeep and Mary Louise told me to stop pursuing an appeal, my intentions to confront my sister about her secret relationship and ensuing breakup with Kurt Michaels had fallen to the back burner.

Once again, I’d let circumstances distract me from what was a top priority: family.

“Lucian told me he’d have a family with me.” I timed the announcement poorly and ended up with a face full of chardonnay.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Maeve said, gasping and choking.

She handed me a box of tissues from the end table, and I mopped up the spit wine. “I basically had the same reaction, only slightly less damp,” I assured her.