Unfinished Hero 01 Knight (37 page)

Plans were in high gear for the grand opening party of my spa that was two and a half weeks away. Mahleena was planning that too. Knight’s marketing firm was advertising it. I had hired staff. Manicures, pedicures, facials, body scrubs, massages and hair, the whole shebang. We even had a small steam sauna, a Jacuzzi and a shower. All low lighting (except the hair stations). Relaxing. Tranquil. The minute you entered, you got in the mood to let it all go and indulge.

I couldn’t wait.

I was still riding the high of Knight’s birthday. Not only was he moved by what I’d done for him, the next day, he took a birthday call from his Mom and Dad and he talked about me with me right there. And all he said was good.

He was Knight so it wasn’t flowery compliments but he did tell his Dad, his eyes on me, “She’s beautiful, Dad. You see her, you won’t believe your eyes. You’ll think you’re dreamin’.”

And I thought that was pretty flowery or at least it did a number on me.

He told them they had to come out to meet me or we’d be going to Hawaii soon so I could meet them.

When he got off the phone, he said to me, “Mom says ‘hi’ and she’s lookin’ forward to meetin’ you.”

I stopped myself from twirling, giggling and shouting, “Squee!” and just grinned and kissed him.

Then he kissed me.

Life was good. Even if I expected things, I’d never expect it to be as good as this.

And Knight gave all of it to me.

He came out with his mug and did what he did every morning when we sat out on his balcony. Therefore my chair was already in position because I quit the hassle of moving it back which also saved Knight the hassle of adjusting it when he made it to me.

He sat in a chair facing the Plexiglas-sided railing, hefted his long, muscled legs up to the top and crossed his ankles. My chair was angled to his so it was easy for him to hook an arm around both my legs and that was what he did before tossing them over his thighs.

I held my coffee aloft in another effort to avoid spillage until he leaned back in his chair and sipped so I knew it was safe. Then I leaned back in mine and did the same.

“Decided what I want for my birthday,” he stated and I blinked.

“Your birthday was over a week ago, Knight,” I told him something he already knew and his neck twisted so his pure, vibrant blue eyes were on me.

I’d never get used to those eyes, ever. And I hoped I had eternity to prove that true.

“You kicked my birthday’s ass so good, baby, I’ve decided to celebrate all month.”

A smile curved big, but on the inside.

On the outside I gave him a false frown.

“I could barely walk for three days what with you ‘doin’ me all the ways you could do me’, Knight. I’m still recovering.”

His brows went up.

“I fuck you hard thirty minutes ago?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“You suck me off in the middle of the night?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

“That last one, babe, your idea.” He looked back to the Front Range muttering, “You’re good.”

I so was.

“Whatever,” I muttered back, loving our banter, not about to tell him that and bringing my coffee to my lips. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“You’re movin’ in.”

I choked on coffee and his eyes came to me, brows drawn and he leaned toward me.

“You all right, baby?”

I patted my chest, swallowed and wheezed, “Yes,” then, “You want me to move in?”

He stared at me.

Then he said, “Babe, your ass has been in my bed every night for three months, you got a whole dresser to yourself and more than half the fuckin’ walk-in already. For a bitch who had no money, you got a fuckload of clothes.”

This was true. All of it. Though the last was partially his fault.

“How much is the rent?” I asked.

“Nothin’ considerin’ I own the place.”

“Okay, how much is the mortgage?” I amended.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because, if I move in, I need to know what my half is so I can budget,” I answered and instantly his head tipped back and he looked at the bottom of the balcony above us.

Then he chanted, “Jesus, fuck, fuck me. Jesus, fuck, fuck me.”

“Knight!” I snapped and his eyes sliced to me.

“You’re not paying half the mortgage,” he declared.

I opened my mouth but he moved quickly, his arm coming out, hand cupping my jaw, thumb pressing firm on my lips and I saw his eyes were deadly serious.

“This is not a discussion. On this you yield. You put in notice. You dump the shit from yard sales or that’s got rips in it or anything you bought on fuckin’ sale or anything anyone fuckin’ gave you unless it has special meaning. The rest of the shit, we’ll find places for it. You get me?”

He removed his thumb and I kept snapping, “That’ll take a box to move since everything is from yard sales, got rips in it, I bought it on sale or someone gave it to me.”

“Good, then it’ll take about an hour to move you in. We’ll do it today,” he returned immediately.

That was when I looked at the bottom of the balcony and asked, “Please, deliver me.”

“Anya, eyes,” he ordered and I cut my eyes to him but they were squinty. He ignored that and growled, “Yield.”

I didn’t yield.

I announced, “I can’t move in. The limited stuff I have that doesn’t fit in one of those categories is girlie and it won’t match your décor.”

“Babe, I live in a fuckin’ museum. Please, God, inject some personality in it.”

I blinked.

“Not flowers or pink,” he added then continued, “Or any of that white, chipped shit you got goin’ on.”

I stared at him.

Then I asked, “Anything else, Knight?”

He stared at me.

Then he answered, “Far’s I’m concerned, you can lose it all. The only thing I give a shit that you move permanently is you.”

That was a really good answer.

Still.

“You know, when you bring bossy into life and get so super generous I’ll be wracking my brains for a millennium for ways to be bad to give payback and it pisses me off, it then pisses me off more when you get sweet so I can’t be pissed anymore.”

“You know that didn’t make a fuckin’ lick of sense,” he told me.

I glared at him.

Then I turned my head and glared at the Front Range, muttering, “Whatever.”

Then I sipped coffee.

Then I heard, “Notice in and move your shit, Anya.”

“Okay, Knight.”

“Jesus, fuck, fuck me,” Knight muttered.

I took another sip of coffee. I did this calmly. But again, inside, I was twirling and screeching, “Squee!”

Then I announced to the mountains, “I feel a night out with Sandrine coming on.”

“Christ, she sucked me off in the middle of the night, I ate her and fucked her half an hour ago and she’s sittin’ in my tee, no panties, drinkin’ coffee, tryin’ to get me hard,” he griped.

My eyes went to him. “Your rule, honey. I can go put panties on.”

His eyes came to me. “You do, I get the strap.”

My legs shifted restlessly.

He stared at me.

Then he turned his head and muttered to the Range, “Fuck, I created a fuck monster.”

I felt my eyes bug out.

Then I burst out laughing.

* * * * *

The thin, high heels of my awesome sandals clicked on the floor as I wandered through the apartment. I did it smiling to myself because, it was turned low which might be a crime in some states, but I could hear Black Sabbath.

I turned the corner into the living room and saw Knight outside on the balcony, heels up on the railing, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. I knew while I’d showered and got ready to face the day he’d probably moved to refresh his cup. Other than that, no.

It was one of the things I loved about him. Comfortable in his own company. He had very little downtime, what little he had he spent with me but if there were moments like this, he didn’t need to fill them with books or TV. Just music, coffee (or a beer or a vodka rocks), his smokes and himself.

Like everything about Knight, I thought it was hot.

His neck twisted and his eyes came to me when he heard my approach. His eyes to me, I watched him crush his cigarette in the ashtray.

I got close, his head went back, he moved his mug to his other hand so his hand closest to me could curl around my hip and I leaned in to touch my mouth to his.

I pulled back an inch and said softly, “Gonna check in at the spa.”

“Right,” he muttered.

“Can I ask you to think about something while I’m gone?” I requested.

“Anything,” he told me and I lifted a hand to his neck as I felt my face get soft.

“Think of something I can do to contribute to our home. I get you wanna look out for me but what you need to get is I need to do that. Groceries. Utilities. Paying the cleaners. Something. Until my spa becomes the whopping success I’m gonna make it be, I know with this place I can’t afford to go halfsies and you’ll never let me do that anyway. But I need to do something.”

I knew he was stuck on the beginning of what I said when his eyes drifted to my mouth and he whispered, “Our home.”

My fingers at his neck gave him a squeeze and I whispered back, “Honey.”

His eyes came to mine and he told me quietly, “We’ll talk about it tonight.”

My man. He loved me and he’d give me anything.

I smiled at him and replied, “Okay.”

His eyes dropped back to my mouth.

“Want that mouth again before you go.”

I gave it to him. His fingers drove into my hair, holding me to him and he plundered it.

Then, after throwing him a smile over my shoulder as I walked away, I went.

* * * * *

“See you later!” I called as I walked down the hall at the top level of my spa.

“Later!” one of the two dudes who were finishing up the steam room shouted back.

I grinned and wandered down the softly lit hall with its dark wood paneling.

Mahleena’s plant people were coming that day. Plants. That meant we were close to opening. Live bamboo, mostly. The feel was clean, rich, warm, expensive with a hint of Oriental. Very little color as Mahleena liked it with touches of warm reds at my demand. Mostly because they reminded me of Knight.

I wandered down the curving staircase and looked across the open area, it’s snug, paneled nail stations, pedicure lounges and open hair stations with the tall mirrors and lights dangling.

“Awesome,” I whispered, got to the bottom and wandered through to the high reception desk that was built out of thin panels of dark wood and set away from but at an angle to the front door.

I moved behind it. The phone had already been installed. The computer system was being installed the next day. If Mahleena or any of the workmen left me non-urgent notes, they put them there. I’d done a walkthrough when I arrived without going back there and had gotten caught up with talking to the boys so I was checking for notes before I left.

Then a trill shivered up my neck and it wasn’t the kind Knight gave me. Like they were guided by unseen forces, my head came up and my eyes moved out the huge, plate glass windows at the front of my place to the street and I sucked in breath.

Nick was walking down the street, looking over his shoulder at something not me but toward my spa. I didn’t like this. This wasn’t the coincidental scenario Knight threw out of me seeing Nick on the street. He was there for a reason. I knew it.

I shrugged my bag off my shoulder to the reception desk in order to grab my phone when the door to my spa opened. My back went straight and my eyes went to the door.

A heavyset man about an inch or two taller than me with a receding hairline, a deep tan and a gold chain tangling with the profuse amount of hair that grew up from his chest was walking in, eyes to me. I didn’t like the look of him. Not at all.

Seedy.

No,
sleazy.

“Sorry,” I told him, “we’re not open yet.”

“Anya Gage?” he asked, not faltering a single step in walking to me.

Keeping my gaze on him, I opened the snap on my bag and dug in for my space age phone.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“I’m Drake Nair.”

I knew no Drake Nair and by the look of him, I knew I never wanted to.

I found the phone and pulled it out, lifting up my hand so he could see. His eyes dropped to it then came back to me when I spoke.

“And what can I do for you, Mr. Nair?”

He had stopped four feet away from the desk. “I’m Knight’s ex-partner.”

A surprise and not the good kind.

I held it together and didn’t even blink.

“Yes?” I prompted.