Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,69
or so. The man loves to cook and he’s damn good at it. Another thing he credits his mom with. In another world, I think I’d love to meet the woman who created such a fine man.
Or, maybe, in this one, too.
I devour the breakfast he places before me, fueling up for this experience. By the time we’ve washed, dried, and put away the dishes, I’m anxious to get underway. My initial sleepy reluctance has dissipated. I’m intrigued by this new outdoor man and can’t wait to see what he’s got up his sleeve. Energized as ever, I make my way to the front door and hold it open, but then Knox folds his arms and leans against the wall, watching me.
“What?” I ask, wiping my mouth just in case there’s a little bit of egg or juice left there.
“Babe, I think you’re forgetting something.”
I frown, unsure what he’s talking about. If we’re going hiking, I don’t need my purse, and he has a house key on his own key ring. Grams would be freaking out about that, but what’s the point of locking him out when all I want is for him to be with me?
I check myself head to toe.
Comfy clothes I won’t melt in? Check.
Sturdy sneakers that won’t give me blisters if we traipse all over the Tennessee hills? Check.
A cute braid that won’t get in the way if Knox finds some tree he wants to push me up against? Double check.
Other than myself and my small pack filled with water and snacks, I don’t think I’m forgetting anything.
“What are you talking about? Seems like all I need is you and the outdoors.”
He gestures with his chin towards the small table in the foyer, where Mom’s camera sits. It’s been there since the day I showed up at Crystal Cove. In my time with Knox, I’ve pushed all photography thoughts aside. Even though my plans were to focus on my friends and my photography, the latter fell quickly by the wayside after meeting him.
“Knox…”
“Sunny told me.”
I must pale, because he takes three strides towards me then cups my face.
“She told me that you’re a photography fiend. Gotta say, I’m a little hurt you haven’t been using me as your muse.”
Just like that, he puts me at ease.
“How do you know I haven’t?” I ask.
His mouth falls slightly open, and I almost laugh.
“I can’t wait to get into my darkroom and develop all those pictures of you in silent slumber.”
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be flattered or creeped out by that.”
I shrug. “I may not even know your last name, but I’ll be damned if I don’t have a picture—or one hundred—to remember you by after the summer’s over.”
We aren’t supposed to talk about it; the words slip out anyway.
Knox takes it in stride. “If you need a picture, apparently I haven’t been doing it right.”
I trail my fingers up his chest, toying with a bit of hair sticking out of the top of his shirt. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. A picture’s worth a thousand words, you know. An orgasm though? A thousand memories that can lead to even more. Combine the two? I may never need another man in my life.” I laugh, hoping he knows I’m teasing.
Something dark flashes in his eyes, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Not that I’m going to ask. We’re over halfway through our summer fling, though I try not to think about it on most days. Things have been too calm to rock the boat. The last thing I want to do is muddy the waters or scare the guy off before it’s time for us to make our fond farewells.
“Think I told you once before, though it might be selfish: It’s kinda my mission to ruin you for all other men, babe.”
“Well, let’s just say you’re executing said mission quite swimmingly.”
Knox loosens his hold on me, swatting me on the ass as I move past him to get my camera. When I place the strap around my neck for the first time in far too long, a thrill rushes through me. I can’t believe I’ve been in Crystal Cove for over a month now and haven’t taken a single photo. Mom would be disappointed, and I vow to spend the rest of my time finding perfect shots she’d have hung on the wall. I’d be lying if I said the gesture by Knox didn’t melt a little bit of the ice around my heart.