“Knox?” I whispered groggily. His room was still dark, and his bed, a big king-size one like Austin’s, felt very empty.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

The urge to slip back into sleep was strong, but for some reason, I didn’t want to do it alone. “Do you have to go take pictures this morning?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, and I rolled onto my side toward him. Warmth spread where a large hand settled on my hip. “I already did.”

Oh. Blinking, I looked over at the heavy shades on his window. Light creeped around the edges. “What time is it?”

“A little before eight. You should sleep some more.”

“Okay.” I was all too happy to oblige. “Come back to bed.”

In the dim light I could see his smile, but all he said was, “I don’t need as much sleep as you.”

That thought rattled around in my sleepy mind for a moment before I realized it was true. Often, the guys didn’t get back from the club until at least two in the morning, but Knox was usually up before dawn. “Did you have a nice time this morning?”

“I shot a prothonotary warbler.”

Assuming that was a bird, I saw an opportunity to tease him. “Does Tonio know how to cook those?”

“Shot it with a camera,” he said, and I giggled because he’d used his sexy growly voice again. My giggle nearly turned into a moan when he squeezed my side, his fingers digging into my ass. His fingers were so long, so strong. Even in my half-awake state, that gave me ideas.

Speaking of ideas, there was something I was supposed to be asking him. Before I could, he had his phone out and was showing me a little bird with a sunflower-yellow body and gray wings.

“It’s much prettier than its name,” I said. As much as I loved the feeling of his strong hand on me, I scooted out from under the covers and sat with my legs folded in front of me. He turned to face me, an eyebrow raised. “Thank you for the celebration you all threw me yesterday.”

“You earned it.”

“We don’t know that yet. Ronnie might hate the book.”

“She might,” Knox said, matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you worked hard, set a goal, and met it. That’s worthy of some champagne and chocolate.”

I grinned. “And having four big, strong guys manhandle me around the room.”

He returned my smile. “That was my favorite part, too.”

Predictably, heat fanned out along my cheeks. “I almost hate to ask since you already did something so nice for me, but… I could use some help.”

“As you wish.”

His simple words made me smile. I’d made him watch The Princess Bride with me last week, and he knew how much I liked that movie. He was such a good man, and that made me feel a little awkward about what I’d planned to ask him. “You see… Clint contacted me.”

“Your ex?” Even in the low light, I could see Knox’s face darken.

“Yeah.”

“What’d that prick want?”

“To talk.”

“Tell him to go to hell.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Because of him, you wound up alone and drunk off your ass in a strip club.” Knox’s voice was growly again, but this time it was no longer playful.

Crap, this wasn’t going to be easy. “I know all that, but he thought we should talk. Just once. You know, for closure.”

Knox eyed me. “Is that something you need?”

I squirmed uncomfortably. “Sort of. It all ended so abruptly. I think it might be good to talk to him, but just one last time,” I assured him. “That’s all that asshole deserves.”

“It’s more than he deserves,” Knox said. “So what do you need me for? Please say I get to punch him.”

“That might make it pretty hard for him to talk,” I said. Knox’s big hands were proof enough of that. “Clint wants to meet me at a restaurant. I was wondering if you could drive me there and maybe stick around while I talk to him.”

“Pretty sure I wasn’t invited.”

“Not with us, but maybe at the other side of the restaurant. Like as moral support? I’ll feel better knowing you’re close by if I need you.”

Knox shook his head and rose to his feet. “Don’t go. You’re too good for that jerk.”

“I want to.” I frowned. “Or, well, not want, but it feels like I need to, just once. If nothing else, I can tell him off. Let him know what I really think of him.”

“In the middle of a restaurant?” Knox snorted. “Somehow I can’t picture you doing that.”

“I might. I’ve changed since I met you guys.” The more I thought about it, the more it seemed true. I certainly felt like a better judge of character. Before, I thought that Clint was a good man. Now that I’d met four truly good men, I could see how wrong I’d been. It truly felt like I was getting better at speaking up for what I wanted—like now, for instance. “Please, Knox? I know I could ask one of the other guys, but I’d really like for it to be you.”

“Because I’ll be the most likely to scare the crap out of him?” Knox said it like a joke, but he didn’t fool me. Though he still wasn’t happy with my plan, he was pleased I’d asked him first.

“Of course not. But could you maybe wear a sleeveless leather vest and smack your fist into your palm while you stare at us?” I grinned up at him.

“And a bandana around my head?”

“Perfect. Have you got any gang colors?”

“Wouldn’t know it if I did.” He sat back down, and I reached for his massive hand.

“So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah.” He squeezed my fingers gently.

“Thank you. We’re meeting at Romano’s, do you know it?”

“Yeah. They got good food. When?”

“The day after tomorrow at 7.”

His eyes met mine as his brow furrowed. “Sunday?” he echoed with a frown.

I thought I knew what his hesitation was about, but I rushed on anyway. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t make it for Friday or Saturday, that would seem like a date. Plus you’d be working then.” He still looked a bit hesitant, but I could see that he was wavering. “Please, Knox? For me?”

His hesitation vanished and he kissed me on the top of my head. “As you wish.”

Sunday evening, I entered Romano’s a few steps ahead of Knox, somewhat nervously. I’d put on a soft, cream-colored dress because this was the kind of restaurant you dressed up for. The woman who greeted us was friendly but professional. I told her my name and briefly explained the situation. She said Clint was in the back dining room. She led us through the restaurant. I could practically feel Knox’s presence behind me. He’d dressed up nice in black trousers and a dark blue button-down shirt, but I knew he was half spoiling for a fight.

The hostess stopped just at the entrance to the room and gestured for me to go ahead of her. I took a few steps and stopped. “Maybe you should go inside first,” I said, turning to Knox. “You can get settled at a table with a good view of Clint’s table and then I can come in afterwards.”

“How will I know where he is? Should I just look for the jerk—er, I mean, the guy who’s alone?”

The hostess looked from Knox to me and back again. “There’s only one gentleman sitting by himself, sir. There’s an empty table on the far left where you can sit and still have a good view.”

“Thank you,” Knox said gruffly. Then he turned to me. “Don’t let him give you any crap and don’t take him back.”

“I won’t.” I looked him in the eyes as I said it. “Trust me, I’d never fall for a guy like him again. Ever.”

Knox must’ve been convinced because he stepped past us and into the room. I smiled at the hostess and she smiled back.

We heard Knox’s rumbly voice say, “What the—” before he was interrupted by a dozen or so people shouting, “Surprise!”

My grin widened as I entered the private dining room we’d reserved with one last smile for the woman who’d been instrumental in our plan.

I couldn’t wait to see the look on Knox’s face and to wish him a happy birthday myself.

There were about two dozen people at the party. I only knew my four guys, but that was okay. Most of the rest were from the club, other strippers, a part-time bartender, and members of the waitstaff.

All of them seemed intent on getting completely hammered while toasting Knox’s big day.

The man of the hour seemed to be genuinely having a good time. Or at least he was after he got over the shock. After I’d entered the private dining room, I couldn’t get near him because of all the people greeting him. But his eyes found mine, and I could almost hear his thoughts. They were something along the lines of: Really? For me? Thank you.

We’d arranged for the restaurant to have a ready supply of finger foods and appetizers, and most of the guests ignored the tables and circulated. I talked with quite a few male strippers until the twins intervened and led me off to meet some of the waiters and waitresses. Perhaps they wanted to be the only strippers in my life? That thought made me giggle—or maybe it was the alcohol.

After an hour, a chocolate cake was brought out, looking rather big and misshapen among all the delicate little desserts Romano’s had supplied. There was a story there, and I was eager to tell it to Knox.

Before I could, a pretty, dark-haired young woman stepped in front of me. She wasn’t one of the waitresses I’d been introduced to before. “Hi, I’m Emma,” I said, admiring the way her dark lashes lined eyes the color of strong coffee. Eyes that looked a little familiar.

“I’m Ronnie,” she said briskly, and it hit me. This was Tonio’s sister. She was the one I’d sent my story to. “Can we talk?”

Suddenly apprehensive, I nodded and followed her out of the room.

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