Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“Ma,” Knox cuts in, trying to shut her down, and quickly. She just rolls her eyes but manages to sneak a wink at me when Knox tucks into his dessert.
“What? You act like an injury isn’t knocking on the door. You aren’t getting any younger.” Ouch. That’s one way to level him with the truth, and it sure as heck doesn’t help my case either. Which is why I scurry back to the kitchen, grab more desserts, and slowly pass them out to others, ignoring Knox completely because I already know the poor, pathetic excuse he’ll use.
“This sure is some good-tasting banana pudding.” Trace makes a show of cleaning his spoon, smacking his lips, and making me try to hide my laughter. Dinner was a few minutes late because, well, Trace being Trace apparently dipped out of helping Knox, so it took a bit longer than they’d anticipated.
“Thank you,” I respond to him, taking my seat. Knox is sitting across from me, and the look he gives me when he realizes he’s eating what I made is a mixture of many things—desire and want being two of them. But when Knox stands up to his full height, body encased in a nice button-down shirt, the blue highlighting his tanned skin, and jeans that are perfectly molded to his firm thighs, he catches my eyes, and I’m not sure what to expect.
“I’m outta here,” he grunts, pushing out of his chair to where it lands on its back. That wasn’t exactly what I thought would happen. I watch as Mr. and Mrs. McCray look at him, that outburst not what we’re used to seeing. Knox fixes his chair, and then he’s gone.
“Someone is running faster than my blue tick hound,” Trace whispers into my ear.
“Maybe I should go after him.” I haven’t even had a bite of my dessert, and the thought of eating it now makes my stomach churn.
“If you want. There’s no telling what kind of mood he’ll be in. But if anyone can tame the beast, I’m betting it’s you.” With that idea in mind, I make my decision.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” I tell everyone at the table. Most of us have gone back to eating, but the look Mrs. McCray gives me tells me she knows. Boy, does she know.
“You go on, dearie. Trace will help me out with the dishes tonight. He’s somehow finagled out of helping this entire week. Just because their heads aren’t under my roof, that doesn’t mean I don’t cook for them. The least they can do it help clean up.” I hear Trace whine in a good-natured way in the background, but I’m already walking to the back door that’s wide open, a screen door the only thing in my way to lead me towards Knox. I make sure not to let it slam behind me. There’s nothing worse than getting chewed out about doors being slammed. My momma had a few vices that would make her tick—slamming doors, hands or any other parts of your body on a wall, whether it was leaning on it or running your fingers down her freshly-painted house, and touching her blinds, something about the oils from the tips of your fingers staining them. Those rules are instilled in me to my very core, so I make sure I don’t do any of that at the McCrays’ either.
I return to my thoughts of Knox, knowing there are only a few places Knox would go to get away from everyone, even if that unfortunately includes me. My boot-covered feet carry me to the barn that’s behind the McCrays’ house. The view in the distance is nothing but pastures, some for horses, but for the most part, they’re for their cows. The sounds of the night play softly—the crickets in the background, the swish of the trees blowing in the wind, and the animals. They are things I love to listen to. Right now, though, the only thing I’m focused on is going after the man who seems to continuously run away from me. Maybe one day, I’ll learn, but apparently, that day is not today.
“Knox.” My voice is soft. When he doesn’t respond, I decide to leave it be. “Maybe I should give up on him, huh?” I pet Knox’s horse. She’s a beauty—black and tall, coat glistening—and she sure does love getting attention. “There’s no going after a man who doesn’t want you; plus, the hit to not only my ego but my heart. I think it’s definitely time to leave him alone,” I tell Black Betty all of the woes that are starting to build up, and if I don’t get ahold of myself soon, the tears I’ve been sucking back will eventually fall. She nuzzles into my shoulder, giving me the attention I clearly need. I stand there with her, scratching her neck and breathing through the ache in my heart that will probably never go away if I walk away from Knox.