KNOX: An Enemies-to-Lovers Sweet Romantic Comedy Read online

  Her face was flushed and she looked as happy as he felt.

  He pulled her toward the food tables. “Would you like a cookie?”

  “I’ve had three already.”

  “Then, yes, you need more.”

  She laughed, raising her hands. “I’ll share all my other cookies with you.”

  He picked one up and popped half of it in his mouth. “Ummm. My favorite.”

  “You like oatmeal-raisin cookies?”

  “I do. Don’t you?”

  “Not when I think I’m getting an oatmeal-chocolate chip cookie and suddenly I get a raisin instead.” She picked up a mint and popped it in her mouth.

  His parents joined them, also laughing after dancing.

  “This is really fun,” his mother said.

  Amy nodded. “I think so, too. I especially like that Daniel and his wife are back together. Those vows were amazing.”

  His mother placed a hand over her heart and nodded back. “They were, weren’t they?”

  Knox’s phone pinged and he checked it, then excused himself.

  A text from Sylvia Matthews, ex-girlfriend and current troublesome reporter, couldn’t be ignored. He found a room not occupied — this time the workout room. Sitting on a bench, he opened the text.

  I thought you’d want to see this.

  There was a link. When he clicked it, he was taken to a local news site. There was a picture of him and Amy nearly kissing on the bench at the Silos. Darn Sylvia, anyway. What did she think she was doing? The headline read The Football Star and the Head Cheerleader. Well, she’d gotten that wrong.

  He started reading. There were pictures of Amy as a teenager wearing a cheerleading outfit for a local high school. But she’d said she wasn’t the cheerleader type.

  Disturbed but trying not to overreact — so what if she’d been a cheerleader, after all? — he kept reading.

  And then he found a quote by a former squad member who claimed Amy had said she was going to marry a football star.

  And there it was. What he’d been afraid of all along. That she was a gold digger. Only he’d gotten it wrong. She hadn’t been after Daniel. No. She’d been after him.

  Feeling betrayed and foolish, he stood and paced the room.

  He tried to remember that Sylvia was going to present everything in the worst possible light, in her usual twisted manner. But he knew the lady she’d quoted. She worked for a local bank now and was well respected in the community. Her quote held weight.

  Was Amy a gold digger? He’d thought she liked him, really liked him, but what if it was all an act? What if he’d been her intended target all along?

  What if she really was a scam artist, after all?

  And why was he so angry about it?

  Amy peeked in. “Hey, I wondered where you’d gotten off to.”

  * * *

  Amy studied Knox’s posture, his scowl. He was totally closed off from her right now.

  “Did you get bad news?”

  “No, I think it was good news, actually.”

  She came in slowly, cautiously, and stopped several feet away from him. “What was it?”

  He stared at her, disappointment in his eyes as he shook his head slowly.

  “What? Tell me? What’s wrong?”

  “Were you a cheerleader in high school?”

  She hadn’t expected that question. The topic she’d steered away from, that she kept hidden from everyone in her life. Unsure why he was asking, she admitted, “Yes. Halfway through my senior year in high school, I quit and I didn’t go back.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t the cheerleading type.”

  “Not any more, I’m not.”

  “Do you remember Wendy Sue Barrister?”

  “She was on the cheerleading squad. She took over as head cheerleader when I quit.”

  “Did you ever tell her that you were going to marry a football star one day?”

  “I could have. That’s a long time ago.” She stared at him, her insides clenching. He was so angry at her. For this? “Why are you so angry?”

  “I don’t like being taken advantage of,” he nearly yelled. “I don’t like falling for someone and then learning that she’s just trying to meet her goal.”

  Cold filled her veins. She’d actually thought she was falling for this guy? This guy who leapt to conclusions — the wrong conclusions — time after time?

  No. She’d been wrong.

  “Do you have anything to say?” he asked, his voice now deadly quiet.

  “Yeah, I do.” She stepped closer to him until she could fairly feel the anger coming off of his body. “I won’t take this crap from you. Once again, you have jumped to the wrong conclusion. Don’t worry about taking me home. I’ll catch a ride with Katie.”

  She stepped away from him, her face burning hot.

  He grabbed her arm — until she turned her face on him, her gaze steely.

  He released her.

  “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.” Without looking back, she strode from the room. From the man she’d thought she was falling in love with.

  How wrong she’d been.

  She searched out Katie, whom she’d overheard saying was about ready to head out.

  Katie drove her home, glancing over at her, but not asking questions. When she pulled up in front of Amy’s home, all she said was, “Want to run in the morning?”

  “Yes,” Amy said. “I’ll need to.”

  Instead of going inside her childhood home, she climbed into her car and turned the key.

  Now that she’d lost all hope of having any kind of relationship with Knox Reid, she needed to focus on her career. She drove to the office. She’d need to see who would be coming in for treatment on Monday.

  There were lights on and, when she unlocked the door and went inside, she found Paul there, working late.

  “Why are you still here?” she asked.

  He looked up from his desk. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I apparently have no life. And because I want to see the files on the next person I’ll be taking through therapy.”

  “What happened with Knox Reid? I thought he was sweet on you.”

  “I thought so, too.” She smiled. “I’m going to go check my files.”

  “Don’t stay too late. You need some rest.”

  “Back atcha, boss.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  13

  You Want All of Us?

  His anger burned off quickly. It still flickered during the drive home. During a meeting with the team. During the next two weeks when he’d tried to keep busy so he wouldn’t think of Amy Kingsley and the hurt he’d seen in her eyes as he’d accused her.

  He’d probably overreacted. He knew he had. But he’d been so angry. And now he wasn’t even sure why, exactly. He didn’t really believe she’d been chasing him. It was just something she’d said years before.

  He did believe, however, that he’d been an idiot. But how could he go back now and get past the hurt he’d caused her with his angry accusations?

  He stepped out of the shower and toweled off. He’d had a friendly game of football with some brothers and other teammates, and now he felt comfortably bruised, but clean.

  Nick had accused him of moping around. Moping! He wasn’t moping. That’s what had started the friendly game of football, when he’d tackled Nick.

  After dressing in jeans and a sweatshirt, Knox sat at his laptop. Maybe he’d play a game or two. Or watch a movie. Or catch up on emails, of which there were one hundred thirty-two unread messages. He scrolled down through them.

  One from his father caught his eye. The subject line read CALL ME AFTER READING THIS. He opened it.

  Knox, I think you ought to read this second article about Ms. Kingsley, written not by Sylvia but by someone with more objectivity and less vindictiveness. After you read it, call me. Dad

  He clicked on the link. This subject line read Why the Head Cheerleader Quit. This article also cove
red Amy being a cheerleader, but then moved on to a horrible crash that her parents were in. A crash that killed her mother instantly and caused broken bones and brain damage to her father, who ended up in a care center. He’d lived only a few more years.

  The reporter had found other teammates, who’d said how sorry they’d been for her. How she’d stopped cheering, and refused to go back to it. One friend thought it was because her parents had been driving to pick her up from a cheerleading practice when they were hit, and Amy blamed herself. It was why she’d switched her intended major when she went to college to therapy for people with brain injuries.

  How horrible for Amy. Compassion welled within him for her. She’d been just a teenager.

  He reached for his phone and called his father.

  “Did you read it?” his father asked, without any greeting.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know what happened between you, but I wanted you to see this. Don’t lose her, son. Do whatever it takes to win her back.”

  “I think I burned my bridges with her.”

  “I don’t think you have. Just apologize. Grovel, if need be.”

  “I’m a jerk,” he admitted to his father.

  “I know, son.”

  “You don’t have to agree so readily.”

  “Go after her. Apologize. Make a fool of yourself over her. Women love that. Now I’ve got to go. Your mother wants to go to a movie.”

  After he hung up, Knox sat, still stunned.

  He’d gotten everything all wrong. Again.

  She might not forgive him, even if he groveled, but he had to give it a try. Because he didn’t think he could live without her in his life. He was a mess. A moody, moping mess.

  The seed of an idea popped into his brain. He picked up his phone again and called.

  A man answered. “Hello.”

  After exchanging greetings, Knox said, “I have a business proposition for you.”

  * * *

  After her first full day working with a young woman, Trisha, who’d gotten a concussion from a fall from her boyfriend’s motorcycle, Amy stopped in Paul’s office. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Have a seat, Amy. And close the door.”

  After sitting, she waited.

  “I need someone I can trust to handle a press conference for me. You’re the most knowledgeable person, next to myself, about what we do here. Would you be willing to do that for me?”

  She’d worked with him on a press conference before, here in Waco, but hadn’t handled one by herself. She had mixed feelings — thankful he trusted her to do it, but nervous about it at the same time. “Sure, Paul.”

  “Thanks. It will be this coming Saturday and you’ll need to fly out of state.”

  She frowned. “Where will I be flying?”

  “Denver.”

  Her frown deepened. “Why Denver? You’re not planning to open a clinic there, are you?”

  “Even if I do, you won’t have to work there.”

  “Good.” So for a couple of days she wouldn’t be in the same town as Knox Reid, which was good because this town wasn’t big enough for the two of them.

  “Because the team owner called and wants us to come out. They’re impressed with how we helped Daniel Reid and they want to give us some good exposure. Plus, they want to see what we can do. If you impress them enough, they’ll invest in the company or, at the least, use our services.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Paul said, “I’ll give you Friday off so you can pack and fly out, stay overnight at a nice hotel, and be ready for the press conference by ten the next morning.”

  “Okay. Tell me what you’d like me to cover.”

  * * *

  Over the phone, Knox told his father his plan and the old man started to laugh.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are. And you want us to help you grovel.”

  “Yes. Put on your groveling face.”

  When Ace quit laughing, he said, “You want all of us?”

  “Yes. Everyone. Even the little kids.”

  “You think we’ll change her mind?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “What are you planning to do?”

  “Don’t worry about that. You just plan to fly out with me with the family.”

  “Okay, son.” He started laughing again, and Knox heard him say, “Rebecca, wait until you hear this.”

  He hung up and smiled. He was beginning to have hope again. He figured Amy would be angry at him — but he was also hoping he could get past her anger to forgiveness.

  14

  You Will Be Generous, Right?

  Her stomach had knots and butterflies and anvils.

  Amy had flown in yesterday and stayed in the amazing Crawford Hotel, a former train station turned into an elegant boutique hotel. The owner of the Denver Defenders, Andrew Maloy, and his wife, Cindy, had taken her to dinner, and they’d made her feel at ease and welcome. She’d had a wonderful time and, by the time the meal was over, she’d relaxed.

  After a dip in the pool and a restful night’s sleep, she’d arisen early to prepare for the conference, which was being held in a conference room in the hotel. She didn’t have a feel for how many people would be there, but if Andrew Maloy was any indication, the team members might be present in support.

  So … she was glad Knox didn’t play for the Defenders any longer.

  But still she needed to make herself look professional from head to toe. She’d purchased a new dress suit and shoes for the occasion and even had her hair cut and styled before leaving Waco. Even if she wasn’t going to run into Knox, she wanted to knock everyone else dead. A fashion hit and run, as it were.

  Looking at her reflection, she wished Knox would be here. She wanted him to look at her and wish for what he could no longer have. But why? He was nothing but a mistrusting, accusatory jerk. She’d guessed correctly the first time she met him. He was still a big jerk.

  At nine, she was down in the conference room. She’d need the next thirty minutes or so to make sure all of the equipment was set up correctly. She’d run through it last night but was feeling paranoid. This had to run perfectly.

  A couple of hotel employees were there to help her.

  At twenty to ten, people began to file into the room. Andrew and Cindy Maloy were some of the first. After greeting her, they helped her form a welcome line. Over the next twenty minutes, she met Denver Defenders players and employees, along with members of the local press.

  Finally, it was time to start. She walked to the podium at the front of the room and adjusted the mic one last time, then smiled at the audience. “I’d like to welcome you all to this combination presentation and press conference. I have some things I’d like to share with you about Cerebration Works, the company I work for and that I’m representing, and then I’d love to answer any questions you might have.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, she described the procedures and the cutting-edge treatment Cerebration Works provided, the specialized MRIs and the personalized exercises designed to jumpstart the areas of the brain that weren’t working, and create increased blood flow to those areas to advance healing.

  Then she opened it up to questions.

  A man asked, “I understand that your program helped Daniel Reid.”

  She smiled. “Yes. I worked with Mr. Reid and he has made remarkable progress.”

  “Will he go back to playing football?”

  “Normally I couldn’t discuss a patient, but Daniel Reid has given his permission to allow us to discuss this because he wants to help other people, too. In answer to your question, Mr. Reid has accepted that he won’t be playing football again, but he’s thrilled to have been brought back to a functional level. He can go back to other areas of his life in a normal manner. But extreme sports are out for him now. He’s open to other opportunities off the field, however, if any of you would like to offer him one.”

  The crowd laughed and she
shrugged her shoulders.

  A woman stood. “Do you know Knox Reid?”

  Her next smile was forced. “Yes, I do. He helped his brother with his treatment.”

  The next questions were more about the treatment, itself, and she felt at ease answering them.

  Doors opened, and a man walked in.

  A large man.

  Knox!

  Followed by the whole Reid family!

  A buzz spread through the conference room as the family found seats, but Knox kept walking — up the aisle, up the steps, and to the podium beside her.

  “May I?” he asked.

  Putting her hand over the mic, she whispered, “What on earth are you doing?”

  “I spoke with Paul last night and he asked me to say a few words.”

  Reluctantly, she turned to the crowd. “My boss, Paul Evans, has asked Mr. Knox Reid to say a few words, so I’ll turn the podium over to him.”

  Taking that step back was hard to force herself to do.

  * * *

  Knox stood before the podium, an obviously distressed Amy beside him.

  Would she forgive him? He didn’t know, but he was planning to make a fool of himself over her. He hoped the old man was right.

  “First, I’d like to tell y’all how amazing this program is. In two short weeks, my brother went from struggling to walk and talk to being mostly back to normal. It truly is a miracle. I was skeptical at first, and you might be, as well, but I can tell you that I whole-heartedly recommend it to anyone who has suffered post-concussion syndrome.”

  He answered several questions, then put up his hands. “I have an announcement to make this morning. I want you to be the first to know that this amazing treatment program is moving to Denver later this year. Paul Evans is opening a clinic here. My family has invested in it and want to support it as much as possible.”

  He heard Amy’s quick surprised intake of air.