Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,64

Mickey’s… How ’bout that shower?”

“It might take a while to wash off all the grime of this place.”

“Far as I’m concerned, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

If only that were true.

Apparently, home repairs have an aphrodisiac quality. By the time we reach my house, we’re leaving a trail of clothes from the door leading to the shower. Knox methodically cleans every inch of dirt off my skin, his lips following along. We may be in the middle of a heatwave, but I swear I’m living with perpetual goose bumps thanks to this man. He’s driving me crazy, taking his sweet-ass time getting me primed. Just when I’m nearing my breaking point, Knox makes good on his promise.

We christen my shower.

A couple of times.

As I’m putting the finishing touches of my mascara on, I spot Knox through the reflection of my vanity and regret agreeing to spend an evening at Mickey’s. How can one man make a plain white T look so damn appealing?

I swirl around on my stool. “If I’d known you were going to wear that, I wouldn’t have suggesting going out tonight,” Knox growls.

Apparently, we’re on the same wavelength.

I look at the mauve towel tucked between my boobs. “When I was fifteen, Sunny taught me that it’s makeup before clothes. I think if I wore this to Mickey’s, I’d get arrested,” I say, standing and walking towards him.

As soon as I’m close enough, he grabs the edge of my towel. “I’m pretty sure if you wore that Mickey’s, I’d be the one getting arrested.”

My hands slide up his arms, slowing grazing sturdy muscles from hard work, not just the gym. “Even though you’re a city guy, I’m pretty sure you could take every one of them in the bar.”

His brilliant eyes darken. “I work hard for what I want, Amelia. No matter what it is. No matter how hard. And when I get it, it’s mine.”

The brand is too delicious to question. “I have no doubt that’s the truth. But you know, Knox, not every woman enjoys being considered a possession.”

As his lips descend towards mine, I wrench out of his arms and head towards my closet. I pause as I’m about to walk into it. Knox’s gaze sears into me, but I pretend it has no affect.

“Lucky for you, I’m not one of them.”

A slow, knowing grin brings his dimples into view. “Pretty sure you’ve already let me stake my claim, Melia.”

“You have two months until said claim expires. Better make the most of it.”

When Knox pushes off the doorjamb and stalks towards me, I know what’s about to happen.

We christen my closet.

Twice.

We break free of Mickey’s only after I’ve promised Sunny a girls-only slumber party for the following Friday. Sam, naturally, demands nighties and pillows, and Sunny, of course, indulges him.

“I like Sam and all, but I’m not against a little ass kickin’ if he shows up at your sleepover,” Knox quips, his fingers toying with mine as we walk along the lakeshore.

“It’s sweet you’re jealous,” I tease. “He’s harmless. When we were kids, Sam often tried joining in. My parents? No way would they let him. Sunny’s? They didn’t mind. Especially since Sam usually ended up with painted nails. It’s simply not fair how mascara makes his eyelashes appear a mile long.”

He chuckles. “I’d say that shocks me, but with your group, nothing really does.”

“I can’t believe I stayed away from them for so long. The past few years have been…difficult, and my much-needed therapy was right here all along.”

Knox squeezes my hand. “You’re a part of that, too, you know.”

“I was.” I sigh. “I know I still am. Coming back here… It’s like I never left. Still, I can’t help but regret everything I missed during the years I stayed away. I just… I couldn’t come back here, yet it may have been the best thing I could have done. Not that I can change it now.”

“You know you can talk to me. About anything. Anytime. My mom may not always agree, but I’m a pretty damn good listener.”

I’m not ready. I don’t know why, but I’m just not. So I force a grin onto my face and like any good woman, turn it around on him. “Yeah, well, I could say the same about you. It’s been nearly six weeks and I feel like I’m still learning who you are. So, who are you? I’ve had glimpses of sweet you, growly you, respectful you, manhandling you. Not that I’m complaining of