Page 17 of Hard Knox

The house finally quieted down, leaving only the soft whisper of the night as I gently tucked Emma into bed. She clutched her stuffy, as she called the stuffed purple kitty, tightly, her eyelids fluttering closed under my watchful gaze. I kissed her forehead softly and tiptoed out of her room, closing the door behind me with a gentle click.

In the living room, Birdie was nestled on the couch, a mug of tea cradling her hands. She looked up as I reentered, her large eyes and her small frame making her look like her namesake. Her expression shifted from relaxed to questioning. “So, you haven’t told him about Mark yet?” she asked, picking up from our previous conversation.

Sighing, I sank into the armchair across from her. “No, I haven’t. It just… it hasn’t come up, and things with Knox haven’t gotten too serious yet.”

Birdie’s eyebrows shot up, her skepticism clear. “Not that serious? Eliza, you’re dating an outlaw biker. And you haven’t… you know?”

Shaking my head, I felt a blush heat my cheeks. “No, we haven’t slept together.”

“Really?” Birdie set her mug down, clearly intrigued. “That’s not what you’d expect from a biker. Are you sure there’s not something wrong with him?”

I mulled over her words, playing with a strand of my hair. “Maybe, but it doesn’t feel like that. He’s respectful, not pushing for anything. Sometimes I wonder if…” My voice trailed off, my thoughts clouded with self-doubt.

“If what?” Birdie urged, her tone gentle.

“If maybe he’s not more adamant because of how I look.” My voice was a whisper now, burdened with insecurities. “You know, because I’m too… curvy.”

Birdie’s face softened, her eyes warm with understanding. She reached out and took my hand. “Eliza, you are beautiful, and anyone worth a damn should see that. Knox seems like a decent guy. Maybe he genuinely cares about you and isn’t just rushing to get you into bed.”

I nodded, wanting to embrace her perspective. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. It’s just hard sometimes, you know? You should see the ladies at the club.”

“I know.” She squeezed my hand, her smile reassuring. “Maybe I should come one night. You can introduce me to a biker.”

Birdie was stunning, but she was nothing like the women at the bar, either. “Maybe you should, so you can see what I’m talking about. And he’s talked of sleeping with tons of women there. How can he go from that to just one me?” I gestured to myself.

“Stop that,” she barked.

“Okay, I’m done feeling sorry for myself. But I never expected him to be so patient. I guess I’m chicken and I need someone demanding I give in.”

“Give it time. I’m sure you’re the one holding him back.”

I nodded, knowing it was true. “Knox has been… a gentleman. Just like I asked, actually. Except that one time.”

“Spill it,” she demanded.

“He fingered me at the clubhouse in a booth,” I said in a rush.

“In public?” Birdie asked, her eyebrows dancing.

“Yep. The place was packed, too. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Shit, Eliza. That’s fucking hot. How could you think he doesn’t want you? Hell, I’ve fucked guys for years who wouldn’t even look at me in public.”

“You’re right.”

“And talk to him about Mark as soon as you can before the creep rears his ugly head.”

After seeing Birdie out and locking the door behind her, I stood alone in the quiet of my living room, replaying our conversation. Knox had shown me a side of himself that was truly unexpected, defying the rough exterior and the world he was part of. Perhaps I didn’t need to be so careful. Maybe it was okay to let my guard down a bit.

That night, as I lay in bed, my thoughts drifted to Knox—not as the biker with a wild past, but as the man who might just be the unexpected gentleman in my life. And for the very first time in a while, I allowed myself to feel cautiously optimistic about what might lie ahead for me and Emma. I thought of scheduling some time out with him, Emma and me and, more than that, thought it was high time I invited him into my house for the night.

The next evening, during a brisk fall afternoon at a school fundraising event, I was manning the bake sale booth, handing out slices of cake and cookies to supportive parents, when I noticed Knox weaving through the crowd toward me. His smile was that of a man completely at ease in my environment until his gaze locked onto a figure approaching me from the opposite direction—my ex-husband, Mark.

Mark’s presence at school functions was always sporadic and unpredictable, much like everything else about him. I had never mentioned him to Knox, unsure how to explain the messy threads of my past. And I certainly never told Mark about him, though I was sure he’d heard about Knox. As Mark neared, his eyes narrowed, not on me, but on Knox. The air between the two men charged immediately, a silent standoff before a single word was even spoken.

“Knox, this is Mark,” I said, my voice tight with tension. “My ex-husband,” I had to add because I hadn’t even mentioned his name before.

Knox’s jaw set, his eyes never leaving Mark. “Heard a lot about you,” Knox lied, his tone even but cold as he looked at me. I hadn’t uttered a word to him about Mark.

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