Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Pulse strangely erratic, I crossed to peer down at a much younger Aunt Henri with her arm around a shorter, plumper woman with paint smears on her face and arms holding a dripping brush, affectionate look on both their faces.
“Yeah, that’s Aunt Henri. And that must be her cousin. They don’t look much alike, do they?” Aunt Henri looked a lot like me—pencil-straight hair, long lean limbs, high cheekbones, narrow nose, and defined lips. The cousin had wild, frizzy hair, elfin features, a squat build, and freckled skin.
Knox’s eyes narrowed. “You certain they were blood-related?”
“Distantly, I think? I never entirely understood their roommate arrangement. Henri and my grandmother grew up here, then Henri took care of their elderly parents when my grandmother moved away. Henri never married. The cousin turned up at some point, took over the attic, I guess.”
“Uh-huh.” Knox adopted an arch tone like I was the naive one.
“What? Are you suspecting there’s a mystery there?”
“You kiss any of your cousins?” He revealed a strip of photo booth pictures, one featuring them kissing in a distinctly non-familial way.
“Wow.” My voice came out all weak.
“You’re the investigator, not me, but I think her life is fascinating.” Knox moved to box up the empty perfume bottles.
“She never said anything to me.” I replayed my memories, looking back with adult eyes and decades of investigative experience. She’d favored mystery dramas with female sleuths, never wore skirts, was happier with cats than humans, and had misty eyes when discussing “Dear Florence,” the long-lost cousin. Should I have suspected? “Hmmm. One time, on the phone, she was teasing me about girls chasing navy officers, and I told her there wasn’t a missus in my future. I’d come out to a number of people at that point but not her. And she laughed, said that was fine, and there was no mister for her either. And that was that. But you think she meant…?”
“Maybe.” Knox looked at the picture again before gently laying it in the box he’d labeled KEEP. “It’s neat that she was cool about you regardless. It’s hard to predict with older people.”
“Oh, she could certainly be cool in her own way. And she likely knew something before the conversation, honestly. I kept quiet in high school but not silent.”
“Like my mom and how she was always bi.” Knox added one of the barbarian books to the keep box with a cheeky grin.
“Petra? Yeah, I suppose I wasn’t shocked when I heard she married Candace. Probably her agreeing to go to homecoming with Rob was the bigger shocker.” I wasn’t sure I should admit that to Knox, but he laughed.
“Ha. She’s said as much over the years. I took a guy to my first dance. Funny how much has changed in only a couple of years.”
“More than a couple.” The earlier bonding over the pennies seemed further away than a matter of minutes. A sour taste coated the back of my throat.
“Quit trying to paint yourself as ready for assisted living.” Knox rolled his eyes. “We both know my folks had me super young. They were only kids themselves. My friend X-ray dated a thirty-eight-year-old last year. Another friend has a forty-two-year-old guy. Forty is the new gay twenty.”
“Hardly.”
“Says the guy who had his tongue—”
I cut him off with a long groan. “Don’t remind me.”
“Fine. Fine. Let’s gather the wallpaper-stripping supplies, and I’ll get my portable speaker from upstairs. We can listen to music while we strip.” He had another enticing smile for me.
While talking was dangerous because I was coming to appreciate Knox as someone I truly enjoyed being around, music proved even more deadly over the next hour or two. Knox twerked around the room to a wicked club mix, scoring both wallpaper and my self-restraint.
“Knox.” I made a pained noise as he did things with his glutes that were probably illegal in six states. “You’re dancing again.”
“So I am. It’s a good song.” Shrugging, he kept right on dancing, this time closer to me. I could smell him, warm and sexy, putting me right there back in the club, wanting him more than air. He beckoned me forward. “Come on. Dance with me.”
Chapter Nine
Knox
“Come on.” Winking at Monroe, I kept my voice light, but I wouldn’t ask again. I’d promised not to go for the hard sell, and as much as I wanted to dance with him in the summer sunshine in this big empty bedroom, I wasn’t going to beg.
I fully expected him to turn me down flat and was bracing myself for the inevitable brush-off when he stepped forward. Maybe the song was more magical than I’d thought.
“Maybe a dance break won’t hurt,” he said so softly I strained to hear him. “Just one dance.”
“Aye, aye, Lieutenant.” I chuckled because I was down with whatever he needed to convince himself. For all our differences, we shared surprisingly similar musical tastes and had easily agreed on a playlist. Monroe moved like he and the music were in spiritual communion, as though he truly enjoyed dancing for the sake of dancing. Of course, he’d needed a little coaxing to let go, but once he started moving, he quickly found a rhythm, body undulating like he’d physically melded with the tune.