Hard Knox - Riley Hart Page 0,18

thought.

“Okay. Have fun. I love you, Callum.”

I smiled. “Love you too, Mom.” Then I was out the door. I typed the address Knox had given me into my GPS. They lived outside the main town of Havenwood, off one of the old highways. I turned down a gravel road to see a large, two-story cabin, which immediately made a smile tug at my lips. It was such a lumberjack kind of home, tucked between way too many trees. Off to the right was a large barn. Knox’s truck was out front. I parked beside it, and the second I was out of the car, Logan came outside.

“You’re here!” he said enthusiastically.

“Wouldn’t miss it. How’s your hand?” I stepped onto the porch. There was a swing on the end of it. So quaint and homey.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Now you sound like Dad.”

There was this little swell in my chest at that. Not that I was truly anything to Logan, but, hell, I couldn’t really explain it. That I worried about him like his dad did? That I didn’t sound like a fraud or his healthcare provider, but a parent? It wasn’t something I’d ever thought about before—becoming a parent—but now I wondered if maybe it would be in my future. Not to Logan, obviously; I wasn’t delusional. But maybe I would want a kid of my own one day.

“Well, I’m your care provider, so can I at least ask if it’s giving you much pain?” He shook his head. “You guys cleaned it?” He nodded. “No redness or—”

“Callum.” The way he said it was with such familiarity, it nearly stole my breath. Why I was suddenly being so sappy, I didn’t know.

“Fine, fine. I’ll stop. Sorry I’m a few minutes early.”

“It’s okay. Come in.”

I followed Logan into the house. It was incredibly Knox on the inside too. All earth tones, with lots of browns, greens, and black. He had a large dark-brown sectional in the middle of the room, and in front of it, a coffee table made from a really dark, solid wood. It had some kind of coating on it, I could tell, with blue running through the middle. The edges were rough, knobby, but in a way you could tell was on purpose. “Wow…this is gorgeous.”

“It’s called, like, epoxy resin river table or something. Dad made it. He can make anything. He’s good at all that stuff. I’m…not.” The dejection in his voice was obvious. Logan felt bad about himself because he couldn’t do things like this.

“Well, I bet if you practiced enough, you could. I’m sure your dad couldn’t do all this at twelve either. And if you can’t, who cares? I can’t build tables, but I’m good at other things, and you are too. That’s what makes us all unique and special. We all do and like different stuff.”

“That’s what Dad says, but he kinda has to say things like that,” Logan replied.

“Maybe, but I don’t. And really, your dad doesn’t. My father wouldn’t have reassured me that way. I have a feeling when your dad speaks, it’s because he means what he says,” I answered honestly.

There was a noise behind us, and I turned to see Knox standing in the doorway to another room in a pair of jeans and no shirt. Holy mother of sexy, beautiful lumberjack gods. My knees went weak, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I was drooling. His black hair was wet and messy, and that damn beard had little droplets of water in it too. God, I wanted to feel it scratch against my face, my entire body, really…my ass…my…

Knox cleared this throat, jerking me back to reality. “Sorry. Running a few minutes behind. I didn’t realize you were here.”

But he’d listened to us talk. I could tell by the way he was looking at me, all intense and appreciative and…confused. That part threw me some. “It’s okay. I was actually early. Is this a shirtless event?” I teased. Not that I was complaining. If there was a series of shirtless events featuring Knox, I would be at all of them.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” he replied, before looking at Logan. “Take your meds? Got your inhaler and everything?”

“Yes, Dad. God, when don’t I have it, and when don’t I take my medication?”

“Hey.” Knox gave him a hard look that shouldn’t have been hot but totally was. It wasn’t angry, just warning. “I was only asking. There’s no reason to have an attitude. I’ll finish getting dressed, and we