Page 40 of Apple of My Eye

Knox’s truck was gone from the drive. He had to work, a ranch to get back to, and obligations that had nothing to do with me. All fine. That was how it was supposed to work. We were whatever we were, good friends, and that did not mean he owed me his whole day. I was not a woman who needed someone hovering, and I did not want to become one.

I went back to picking. By the time I came around the side of the house at noon, Knox’s truck was back in the driveway.

I found him crouched on the front porch, reading the back of a package with an old toolbox open beside him. He hadn’t heard me come by yet.

I took the steps two at a time and stopped at the sight of the cardboard box beside him filled with deadbolts, window locks, a door reinforcement plate, and what appeared to be every security item the Forest Grove hardware store had been willing to part with, all crammed together like he had bought without a list and regretted nothing.

He looked up when the board creaked under my feet. “This old house is still using locks made in the fifties. Time for an update,” he explained.

I surveyed the box and then looked back at him. “I could totally kiss you right now.”

“I don’t see anyone stopping you,” he quipped, eyebrow raised.

I launched at him, and he caught me, holding me tight through a kiss that burst my heart wide open.

“You keep kissing me like that, I’ll never get these locks changed,” he chuckled, setting me back down.

“I’ll make more coffee and help you,” I insisted.

“I take mine black.” He nodded as if that was all he had needed today, and reached for his screwdriver.

We workedside by side through the afternoon, changing everything over. To be fair, he did most of the heavy lifting. The old hardware on this house did not come off without a fight, and Knox possessed the patience with a stuck lock that I imagined he had with most things that refused to cooperate. Including me.

Although he cursed at the back door for a solid five minutes before the original deadbolt surrendered. I handed him tools when he asked, and kept my mouth shut while he worked, which was harder than it sounded.

He tested every new installation twice. New deadbolts on both exterior doors. Window locks across the entire ground floor. The reinforcement plate on the back door went in last. Knox pressed his weight against it once it was set, as if he needed to confirm nobody was getting through that way.

“That covers the house.” He stepped back and inspectedhis work, testing the deadbolt with a satisfying click. “All the doors and the windows downstairs. Done. Anything else?”

I didn’t hesitate. “The orchard cottage could use a lock, if you have enough hardware.”

He turned, confused. “What’s in the orchard cottage that anyone would take? A clawfoot tub?” His mouth twitched.

“Dad’s orchard records are there, too,” I said. “I can’t lose those.”

He held my gaze for a beat and understood. “Right. Then let’s get it done.”

We walked out through the orchard together in the late afternoon light. The branches cast long shadows across the rows.

When we finished the cottage lock and he tested the new deadbolt on that small door, turning the key twice to be certain, my chest relaxed at last.

Then I pulled him through the cottage door by his jacket and kissed him up against the wall next to it, thoroughly, with my hands on his pecs, and him finding my waist in the same moment. He groaned. It vibrated my chest as he kissed me back with all the patience of a man who had been waiting a long time for exactly this moment when I would be the one to reach for him.

We were both a little breathless when I finally stepped back.

His eyes went dark. His hands had not moved from my waist.

“That's my reward for good work or is there more?” he asked.

“Don’t push it, cowboy.”

His grin was absolutely satisfied andearned.

Sage and Ivyarrived later than they had intended, trailing apologies with a casserole dish that smelled incredible from the porch steps. They fussed and made a huge deal about Knox and the locks, gushing over his ability to be handy with a tool.

I remained quiet.

Knox read the room the way he always did and reached for his jacket.