While Aspen laughed, Noel smacked his brother on the back of the head. “You’re getting the couch, moron.”
I couldn’t answer, because honestly—or maybe I should say sadly—Brandt Gamble’s offer of male companionship was the best I’d heard in six long, dry years. Too bad the cutie-pie was complete jailbait. I might’ve actually considered him.
Needing more to drink because I’d suddenly found myself saddled with a houseful of Gambles, I reached for my now watered-down iced tea and began to guzzle.
Here was to the rest of my miserable life.
We met four more times at our tree. Twice, he was late because he couldn’t get away any sooner without rousing suspicion, but he never failed to show eventually, with baby Bentley tucked in his arms.
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.