Irresistible Knight (23 page)

“Astrid, you've been a widower for such a long time I think you forgot what testicles look like. This doesn't loo—”

“Knight, are you saying that I'm as dry as the Sahara desert?”

“No, no. All I'm saying is that this doesn't look like testicles at all.”

“Maybe you haven't seen yours in a long time, that's why you couldn't see the resemblance.”

“Nice come back, Astrid.”

“I know. Now, why are you looking at that?”

“Someone gave it to me.”

“Normally, when someone gives you something, it is to remind you of him or her. Since you have a rock testicle...” Astrid covered her mouth.

“Wait, wait. Let me explain.”

“You told me you couldn't find the right woman. Now I know why. Because you're looking for a—”

“Fuck no! A woman gave this to me and this is Butt. I mean, a rock shaped like a butt and I called it...” Astrid's laughter told Bors his case was lost. “It's Mickey's ears.”

Astrid wiped her eyes, careful not to smudge her eyeliner. “Don't worry, Knight. Your secret is safe with me.”

“There is no secret.”

“Whatever. Simms wants to see you. By the way, if I were you, I'd keep your testicle rock in your pocket. Toodles.”

Bors pocketed his rock and gave Astrid a warning look, which only made the older woman laugh harder. He wasn't worried though. Astrid was anything, but a gossiper. Another trait that Simms loved about her.

As usual, his boss hunkered in front of his computer when he opened the door. Simms stub out his cigar, then waved him in.

“Shut the door, Knight.”

Since the night of his mother's birthday party, he hadn't filled Simms in on more info about Taylor. All Simms knew was that Taylor was staying at his house. The only people who knew about Taylor's true background were his family. They gave him a hard time, especially when they learned about Taylor's aversion to men in uniform.

His family didn't approve of his idea about not telling Taylor what he meant when he said he caught vermin for a living, but they understood. He just wished that Taylor would too when the time to reveal the truth came.

“So? Are we close to locking Jean's ass in jail?”

“Far from it, sir. Our unfounded suspicions about the reason why Taylor ran away from Jean point to a contrary conclusion.”

“You sound like a freaking lawyer. Knight, spill it. I'm too old for surprises.”

“Taylor left to find my dad and ask him for help.”

“Help with what?”

“To save Jean's soul. To keep Jean from ending up rotting in jail.”

“Why? What's their connection?”

“Jean is Taylor's father.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Bors went on to explain why Taylor had to escape, her plan of bluffing Jean that she'll expose him if he didn't stop his girl trafficking. He also added Taylor's financial situation, hence the reason why Taylor ended up living with him.

After two hours, Bors left Simms office with nothing but his boss's warning to keep his head with the brain working, not the one that drools through its eye.

Simms wanted results within two weeks or he'd replace him. They both knew that when an agent got emotionally involved with his case, it was time to step back and let another agent take over. Emotions, when ruled over mental and physical strengths, often brought negative results.

He waved goodbye to Astrid then called Branyan to give him a ride to the ferry terminal. The ride would be perfect to fill in his partner about Taylor.

“Can't believe Bruno Jean's daughter is living under your roof. All this time, we're trying to find someone with balls to come forward and expose Jean. Now ... Damn, you really told her you're a rat catcher? A rat catcher?”

Bors glanced at Branyan. “She hates anyone in uniform.”

“Even the UPS guys?”

“Okay, anyone that carries a gun.”

“Including Teta?”

“Why are you being a knuckle dick?”

Branyan laughed. “You know, here's what I think. Wait, knuckle dick? What the fuck is that?”

“Just look at your knuckle. See that? That's your dick.”

“Fuck you. I wouldn't be expecting a baby if I have a dick as short as my thumb.”

Bors laughed with Branyan. He'd had different partners in the past, but Branyan was the first that he actually enjoyed working with. He talked like him and his brothers, and his wife could beat the mean chef on television when it came to making pastries.

Branyan took the exit to State Route 20 westbound from the I-5. From Seattle, it was about a two-hour drive to Anacortes where he would catch the ferry back to Orcas Island. With Branyan in the car, two hours felt like twenty minutes. He could gab through his eardrums.

“You like her,” Branyan said.

“What?”

“Come on, Knight. You're not deaf. Just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“You like Jean's daughter, that's why you hid your true form—a kickass FBI agent. And you offered your house because you, Bors Knight, are interested.”

“In digging out information about Bruno Jean from Taylor.”

“Bors, let's forget that we're work partners for a minute. I'll talk to you like a friend.”

“Egad. You sound like Kirsten and Julie. Whenever they want to talk like a friend, bro, you run.”

“Well, you can't run so you might as well listen.”

“Do I have to?”

“Just fucking sit there and listen. You saw the moment your brother, Tristan, fell for Julie. It was you who told me that I was a goner when I met my wife. You saw the signs because you're the observer. Now, reverse the situation. I'm the observer and I'm telling you—”

“You're wrong. I'm not in love with Taylor. She's broke and needs a place to stay. She's what we need. And keeping her at arm's length is the best. As for why I told her I catch vermin, I'm not going to repeat myself.”

“Deny it all you want. But you know you're a goner.”

“You don't know that.”

“I've seen you look at her. Like...”

“Like what?”

“A man in love.”

Bors's shook his head in utter disbelief. “You're nuts.”

Grinning, Branyan nodded his head without looking at him. “No. I'm a good observer.”

Branyan drove through the town of Anacortes. They headed west on 12th Street toward Oakes Avenue. This was a nice ride to unwind and enjoy the scenery before hopping aboard the ferryboat. “I always liked this drive,” Branyan said, then took a slight right at the Ferry Terminal Road.

“Me, too. Always reminds me that I'm almost home.” The scenery varied from thick green forest to beautiful views of Puget Sound to the Olympics on the west and the snow and ice-capped Cascade Range to the east. Bors wondered if Taylor was looking at the same scenery. She loved looking at the mountains and frolic in the cold water of the Pacific Northwest.

The ferryboat loomed ahead of him when Anacortes Ferry Terminal turned into Spur Street. Normally, when he thought of home, he imagined his parents’ home. This time, he couldn't wait to see the home he recently finished. And he knew why. Taylor. He smiled at the thought of that woman who could make any man lose his head because of her kookiness when it came to food, and her uninhibited behavior in bed.

This afternoon, they were supposed to have an early dinner at his parents’ house and Taylor would discuss Jean with his dad. Perhaps they could squeeze a short walk in the woods and visit Porky and his family.

“Looks like we made it on time. Ferry's loading.” Branyan flashed his badge and was waved in towards the private parking area.

“Thanks for the ride.” Bors got out of the car and hitched his pack on his shoulder. He leaned down to look at Branyan. “Kiss Susan for me.” He was about to walk away when Branyan called him. “Yeah?”

“What are you gonna do when this whole business about Jean is over and Taylor decides to leave your home?”

The question held Bors speechless. The thought about Taylor leaving never crossed his mind. Now that Branyan brought up the question, he didn't know how to respond to it. All he knew was that it caused a painful prick inside his chest.

Branyan laughed. “Thought so. Good luck, bro.”

Bors remained rooted even when Branyan's car disappeared around the corner. He'd gotten used to having Taylor around. He couldn't imagine days without her. Who would make a big mess in his kitchen, hog the blanket, walk with him in the woods, and share the cove with him. Well, he suppose he would go back to living like a normal guy—chase criminals, walk in dirty alleys at night, go home to an empty bed, no making out with Taylor.

No Taylor. Damn, that hurts.

He spotted Gawain's car parked at the unloading dock. He expected his brother and Taylor to be there so they could go straight to his parents’ home. But what he didn't expect was the green-eyed monster currently gnawing at his chest. As soon as he saw them laughing, with his brother's arm wrapped around the back of Taylor's seat, jealousy like he'd never felt before assaulted him. He shouldn't feel jealous. Gawain would never sneak behind his back and steal something important to him.

Bors steps faltered when reality hit him square in the chest. Taylor was important to him. Important enough to find a way to deal with Bruno Jean's case without hurting his daughter's feelings. While on the ferry, he'd wracked his brain about all possible angles to nab Jean and still have Taylor's trust. Only, he came up short and still ended up empty handed.

Damn it. Why did you have to be Jean's daughter, babe?

Gawain saw him and must have said something to Taylor because she turned her head to look in his direction. Her smile was eager and alive with affection and delight. She had no idea how captivating her smile was. God, she was one beautiful creature.

He returned her smile with a larger smile of his own. Right at that moment, all he wanted was to get to her and kiss her. Maybe he'd do just that. So what if Gawain was in the car. He'd seen them kissed before.

“Hey there. How was your meeting? I hope the vermins haven't invaded Seattle since you took your leave.”

Bors caught Gawain's disapproving look. “No. Branyan is doing a great job keeping the population to a minimum.” He hunched over, his forearm resting on the car door. He stared at Taylor, fighting the urge to kiss her in front of his brother.
Ah, the heck with Gawain.
Before he lost his courage, he held her chin between his fingers, lowered his head then kissed her. He only meant to give her a hello kiss, but the moment their lips touched, Taylor returned his kiss with reckless abandon, sending a shock wave through his entire body.

Gawain started singing
Crazy Love
by Michael Buble while tapping the steering wheel loud enough to penetrate his kiss induced brain.

Oh, yeah, Bors could hear her heartbeat even when he was in Seattle and when he lay beside her at night. And each time, it felt like the heavens opened up so the angels could look down on him.

Kirsten was a big fan of Buble and sang his song all the time. He didn't know Gawain's another fan, too. Rubbing his finger on Taylor's lower lip, he winked at her then he straightened to walk to the back door. Once seated and buckled, he flicked the back of Gawain's head. “Okay, Michael Buble. Let's go see Mom and Dad.”

“You sure, Romeo? Want Taylor to sit in the back so you two can continue making out as if I'm not here?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Can I sit in the back?” Taylor asked, grinning, her cheeks rosy.

“No. What am I? Your chauffeur?”

“You're a poophead.”

“Holy crapola ! You're another Kirsten.”

Bors laughed. “You have no idea.”

* * * *

An hour and a half later, they pulled up in the Knight's driveway. Cars lined up the cemented family drive, which told Taylor that everyone was already here. She'd met the whole Knight family, but coming back here to have a lunner with just the family felt like meeting her future in-laws. Crazy, but she was nervous.

“Looks like everyone's here. Are we late for the lunner?”

“A lunner?” Bors and Gawain echoed simultaneously.

“Lunch and dinner. So are we late?”

“No. Except for you and Bors, everyone is staying here for a visit. They don't have to drive to come to lunner.”

“Babe, even if we're late, it doesn't matter. This is my family.” He got out of the car and opened Taylor's door. “Come on. I smell barbecue hotdogs.”

Lord, how did it come to this? All she wanted was to meet Judge Knight. She got what she wanted plus more. She'd been sleeping with his son, and it all happened in such a short time.

Taylor took Bors offered hand. “Are we supposed to bring something? A bottle of wine, or a Bundt cake?”

“No. Mom said to bring our empty stomachs.”

“Bors, that's just a social statement of politeness. We should have grabbed something.”

“Don't worry Taylor. We'll just put it on your tab.” Gawain wriggled his brows, then walked ahead of them.

Bors held her hand as they walked to the front steps. “Please forget about the social statement of politeness crap and relax. We're fine.” To Gawain, he asked, “What, bro? Unlock the door.”

“Don't have a key, ugly face. Gave it to Teta. She's getting a duplicate.” He reached above the porch light and started patting the flat area. “Here we go.” He held a key up. “Spare key.”

Gawain unlocked the door, and replaced the key back into its hiding place. As soon as he opened the door, a golden retriever met them.

Bors sat on his haunches and rubbed the dog's ears. “Hey, Cinnamon.” And a sneeze. “Meeting us, huh?”

“Uh-oh, doggie's here. You know what that means.”

“Afraid of Teta, Gawain?” Taylor teased.

“Who isn't?”

Taylor laughed at Gawain's exaggerated show of fear.

“I'm hungry. Come on, guys. Follow the smell of grease and you'll find food.” Gawain left them in a hurry.

Bors sneezed again. “Cinnamon, this is Taylor. Don't hump her leg. She's off limits.” Another sneeze. “'Kay, off you go.”

Cinnamon barked twice, then bounded off and disappeared in the corner.

“So, a dog can't hump my leg, but you, you...”

“What,” Bors asked, grinning.

“Nothing.”