Things We Never Got Over (Knockemout Book 1)

M y problem—besides the length of Naomi’s skirt—was leaning against the bar in full uniform, making small talk with a handful of regulars.

I dragged Naomi with me into the alcove of the kitchen doors.

“My brother doesn’t get near that room. Got it?”

Her eyes widened. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because you’re going to distract him and get him the hell out of here.”

She dug in her heels and crossed her arms. “I don’t recall the section on my job application that required me to lie to law enforcement.”

“I’m not telling you to lie. I’m telling you to get those good girl eyes and that cleavage over there and flirt with him until he forgets all about busting that game.”

“That doesn’t sound any better than lying. It sounds like prostitution, and I’m pretty sure any family court judge would frown upon that during a custody hearing!”

I blew out a breath through my nostrils, then dug out my wallet. “Fine.

I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

“Deal.”

I was still blinking when she snapped the bill out of my hand and headed in my brother’s direction. It was an asshole move on my part, using her need for cash and putting her in a sketchy position. But I knew my brother, and Nash wouldn’t do anything to hurt Naomi’s chances at becoming Waylay’s guardian. Hell, any idiot with one good eye could tell the woman was several classes above her sister.

“Fuck,” I muttered to no one.

“Interesting.”

I found Fi leaning against the wall, smugly enjoying one of the lollipops that served as a cigarette surrogate.

“What?”

Her eyebrows wiggled. “You never freaked when Max or me served that party.”

“You and Max know how to handle yourselves,” I argued.

“Looks like Naomi was handling herself just fine in there. Maybe the problem isn’t her?”

“You wanna be my new problem, Fiasco?” I snarled.

She was not remotely intimidated. Which was exactly why a boss shouldn’t be friends with their employees.

“I think Knox Morgan is Knox Morgan’s biggest problem. But, hey, what do I know?” she said with an annoying little shrug.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“And miss the show?” Fi nodded over my shoulder.

I turned and spied Naomi putting a flirtatious hand on my brother’s arm.

When she laughed and tossed her hair, my brilliant plan didn’t seem so brilliant.

“Goddammit.”

I left Fi and maneuvered my way through the crowd, getting close enough to hear Nash say, “Let me guess. Illegal poker game in the back room, and you were sent to distract me.”

Fuck me.

Naomi’s eyes went wide, and I realized the woman had no poker face whatsoever.

“Uhhh… Are you always this handsome and intelligent?” she asked.

“I am,” Nash said with a stupid wink that made me want to punch him in his stupid face. “But it also helps that this town doesn’t know how to keep its mouth shut. I’m not here for the game.”

“Well, you’re not here for my waitstaff. So what the hell are you doing here?” I said, interjecting myself into their cozy little conversation like a jealous idiot.

Nash shot me a smug look as if he knew exactly how annoying I found him. “Heard an old friend was in town.”

“The rumors are true.”

We all turned and found Lucian standing just outside our circle.

My brother grinned and shoved me out of the way. He welcomed Lucian with a hard hug and a slap on the back. “Good to have you back, brother.”

“It’s good to be back,” Lucian agreed, returning the hug. “Especially since the waitstaff got even more interesting.” He gave Naomi a wink.

Why the fuck the entire town suddenly decided winking at Naomi was a good idea was beyond me, and I was going to put a stop to it as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s great,” I said. “Don’t you have drinks to serve?”

Naomi rolled her eyes. “I didn’t get rid of your brother yet.”

“You can keep the hundred if you go away,” I said, needing to get her out from between my brother and my best friend.

“Deal. Lucian, I’ll see you back in there with a fresh drink,” she promised. “Nash, it was fun flirting with you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, darlin’,” my brother drawled, tossing her a little salute.

We all watched her sashay to the bar.

My head hurt from not yelling. My jaw was so tight I worried I’d crack a tooth. I didn’t know what it was about that woman, but Naomi Witt had me tied up in fucking knots. I didn’t like it one bit.

“What are you doing back in town?” Nash asked Lucian.

“You sound like a cop,” Lucian complained.

“I am a cop.”

Chief Nash rankled me.

The three of us had grown up raising hell and bending laws until they broke. Nash growing up to be a cop felt like some kind of betrayal. The straight and narrow was too confining for me. I didn’t stray too far from the line these days, but I made sure to step into the gray every now and again for old time’s sake.

Lucian was another story. Trouble didn’t follow him. He had a tendency to make it wherever he went. If he was back in Knockemout, it sure as hell wasn’t for a stroll down memory lane.

“A man can’t feel nostalgic for his childhood?” Lucian mused, expertly avoiding the question.

“Your childhood sucked,” Nash pointed out. “You haven’t been back in years. Something brought you back, and it better not be trouble.”

“Maybe I got tired of hearing how the Morgan brothers are too stubborn to remove their heads from their asses. Maybe I came back to help you bury the hatchet.”

Naomi breezed by with a tray full of drinks and an easy smile for Lucian and Nash. The smile changed to a scowl when she looked at me.

“No one needs any help with any hatchet,” I insisted, stepping in front of him to cut off his view of Naomi’s curvy, retreating ass.

“That hatchet that you two have been wrestling over for two years is stupid. Get over it and move the fuck on,” Lucian said.

“Don’t use that Beltway Bullshit tone with us,” Nash said.

Lucian had built a political consulting firm that involved far too many shadows for Nash’s liking. Our friend had a gift for putting the fear of God into his clients or the people who stood between his clients and what they wanted.

“That shit don’t fly in Knockemout,” I reminded him.

“You two have nothing to worry about. Let’s have a drink for old time’s sake,” he suggested.

“Can’t tonight,” Nash said. “On duty.”

“Then I guess you’d better get back to work,” I told my brother.

“Guess I better. Try not to let any pissed-off poker players bust up the place tonight. I don’t feel like handling the paperwork.”

“Dinner. Tomorrow night. Your place,” Lucian said, pointing upstairs.

“Works for me,” I said.

“Fine,” Nash agreed. “It is good to see you, Lucy.”

Lucian gave him a half smile. “It’s good to be seen.” He turned to me.

“I’ll catch up with you when you’re hovering over Naomi.”

I flipped him off.

When he left, Nash turned to me. “You got a second?”

“Depends.”

“It’s about Tina.”

Fuck.

“I’ll walk you out.”

The August night was still smotheringly humid when we went through the kitchen and walked out into the parking lot.

“What’s the problem?” I asked when we got to Nash’s SUV.

“Got a few more details on Tina. She and her new man were moving stolen goods. Nothing major. TVs and phones. Tablets. But rumor has it the boyfriend is connected to some bigger criminal enterprise.”

“Who’s the boyfriend?”

He shook his head. “Either no one knows his name or they’re not sayin’ it to me.”

“Don’t got much of anything, do you?”

“Just a gut feeling Tina didn’t just decide to abandon her kid for fun. I think she’s in deep with some shit.” He looked up at the inky night sky.

“Heard a couple of people saying they think they saw her over in Lawlerville.”

Lawlerville was less than a half hour’s drive. Which meant Tina probably wasn’t planning on staying gone.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“Yeah.”

I knew what Nash wanted from me. Any other circumstance, I would have made him ask. But since this involved Naomi and Waylay, I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around.

“I’ll ask around. See if any sources who avoid cops will feel chatty with me,” I told him.

“Appreciate it.”

INSTEAD OF GOING HOME like I’d planned, I pretended to check a few things off my list. I played bar back for Silver while Max took her dinner break. Then I answered the two dozen or so emails I’d been avoiding. I even ducked into the shop’s supply room and cut down cardboard boxes for the recycler.

The fourth time I caught myself heading in the direction of the poker game, I decided to remove myself from temptation and headed for the keg room. I hoped the chill and the physical labor of moving full kegs around would take the edge off my annoyance.

I had a whole list of reasons to be pissed off at the world. And most of them revolved around Naomi Witt. Every conversation with her ended in me having a headache and a hard-on.

Watching other men trip over their tongues when she was around only made it all worse. I didn’t want her. But I wanted to claim her as mine just to keep every other asshole away from her.

I needed to get drunk and laid. I needed to forget she existed.

My hands were fucking frozen and my temper had cooled by the time I finished re-stacking the kegs. It was almost eleven. I figured I’d check in at the bar, then go the hell home.

When I hit the bar, Silver glanced up from the moonshine she was pouring.

“Mind checking in on the private party?” she asked.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Been a while since I’ve seen Naomi.”

My temper reignited like someone had thrown a gas can and a lighter on it.

I didn’t exactly kick the door open, but it was a more dramatic entrance than I usually made. Tanner, the skinny idiot who partied too hard to hold on to his money, fell out of his chair.

Naomi, however, didn’t bother looking up. She was squeezed in between Winona and Grim, tongue poking out between her lips as she studied the cards in her hand. “Okay. Tell me again what beats a pair,” she said.

Ian launched into a Texas Hold ’Em 101 lecture while Grim leaned over to look at her hand. “Raise ’em,” he advised.

Tentatively, she picked up a blue chip and looked at him. He shook his head. She added two more chips and, on his nod, tossed them into the pile at the center of the table. “Raise,” she announced, wiggling her ass in her seat.

I rounded the table and leaned in. “What the fuck are you doing, Naomi?”

She finally looked up at me, bemused. “Learning to play poker.”

“Fold,” Winona sighed. “Never trust a rookie’s luck.”

“I’ll see you and raise you,” Lucian decided, dropping a fistful of chips onto the table.

“Leave her alone, Morgan,” Ian told me. “Our drinks are full, and she’s never played.”

I bared my teeth.

“Relax, Morgan,” Winona said. “We all staked her some chips. It’s just a friendly hand.”

Lucian and Naomi were engaged in a stare down.

I leaned in again and whispered in her ear, “Do you know what those chips are worth?”

She shook her head, watching as the action returned to Ian, who folded.

“They told me not to worry about it.”

“That’s twenty grand in the pot, Naomi.”

I’d pushed the right button. She stopped staring at Lucian and looked at me as she started to come out of her chair.

Grim put a hand on her shoulder to hold her in place, and I fixed him with a cold glare.

“Fucking relax, Knox,” he said. “Winona’s right. It’s a friendly hand. No loans. No interest. She’s a quick learner.”

“Twenty-thousand dollars?” Naomi squeaked.

“I’ll call,” Tanner decided, throwing in his chips.

“Show ’em,” Grim growled, shoving a matching stack of chips into the center of the table.

Tanner lay down a shitty two pair. Lucian took his time arranging his cards before revealing a nice little straight.

“Uh-oh,” Winona hummed under her breath.

“Your turn, sweetheart,” Grim said, his face unreadable.

Naomi dropped her cards face-up on the table.

“I believe this is a bigger straight than yours, Lucian,” she said.

The table erupted in cheers. “You just won $22,000,” Winona told her.

“Holy shit! Holy shit!” Naomi looked up at me, and the joy on her face was a sucker punch to my windpipe.

“Congratulations. Now get your ass up,” I said, still capable of being an ass.

Lucian groaned. “Suckered in by those innocent eyes. Every damn time.”

I didn’t want him looking at her eyes or any other part of her. I pulled Naomi’s chair out for her.

“Wait! Do I get a victory dance? How do I pay everyone back?”

“You definitely get a victory dance,” Tanner said, lecherously patting his lap. Ian saved me the trouble and slapped him in the back of the head.

“Naomi. Now,” I said, hooking my thumb toward the door.

“Hold your horses, Viking.” She carefully counted out equal shares of the chips and started returning them to their original owners.

Grim shook his head and covered her hand with his tattooed one. “You won fair and square. You’re keeping the winnings and you can have my stake.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t,” she began.

“I insist. And when I insist, people do what I tell them.”

Naomi didn’t see a scary biker sort-of-criminal making that proclamation.

She saw a cuddly, tattooed fairy godfather. When she tossed her arms around his neck and gave him a noisy kiss on the cheek, I saw the man actually smile. A feat previously thought to be impossible.

“For that reaction, you’ll keep mine as well,” Lucian said. Naomi whooped and rounded the table and kissed him loudly on the cheek.

Ian and Winona did the same and laughed through Naomi’s stranglehold hugs.

“Get that niece of yours something pretty,” Winona told her.

Christ on a cracker, exactly how much of her autobiography had she shared with them?

“I’m, uh, just gonna hang on to mine,” Tanner said, pulling back the chips he’d loaned her.

The rest of the table glared at him.

“Cheap-ass,” Winona said.

“Come on. It’s been a rough week,” he whined.

“In that case, here’s a tip from me,” Naomi said, handing over a $100 chip.

The woman was a sucker. And it looked like Tanner was officially in love.

“Ladies, gentlemen, what do you say we call it a night? I hear there’s a band out front tonight. We could steal one or two of Knox’s private bottles and reminisce about the good old days,” Ian suggested.

“Only if Lucy promises me a dance,” Winona said.

I waited until they’d cashed out and exited the room, leaving Naomi and me alone.

She looked up from the pile of cash they’d left in front of her. It was one hell of a tip. “Can we leave the lecture for tomorrow so I can just enjoy?”

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “But I’m driving you home tonight.”

“Fine. But you’re not allowed to yell at me on the drive.”

“I can’t make any promises.”