One More Taste (One and Only Texas #2)(7)
Mortified, she stood over him and watched glops of peach and br?lée topping ooze like lava into the creases of his waistband and belt.
For his part, Knox didn’t rise or curse at her—as Ty was doing, she noticed out of the corner of her eye—nor did he attempt to clean himself off. He kept his cucumber-cool gaze locked on hers, a slight smirk curved on his lips. “Did I hit too close to home on that observation, Ms. Ford?”
Holy shit. She’d spilled soup all over her new boss. There was no way she was getting the restaurant now. She’d be lucky to keep her job. What she refused to give up was the last shreds of her dignity. Nobody insulted her by insinuating that she’d slept her way to the top and got away with it, not even the intimidating Knox Briscoe.
She rose to her full height. “I may not know what your father did to get disowned by the Briscoes, but it’s no wonder you’re trying to deflect some of that shame you inherited from him onto the people of this resort. Even after all these years, it still stings, doesn’t it? Whatever he did to get shunned? The shame of it all?”
A shadow crossed Knox’s face. Good. She’d meant for that to hurt.
A hand closed around Emily’s arm and tugged her away. Ty pushed between her and Knox, scolding her, apologizing to Knox. When did the giant she’d long revered as a force of nature turn into a spineless, apologetic noodle? She would’ve never expected her idol to fall from grace in the blink of an eye.
Emily glared past Ty, to Knox. “It makes sense, now, this whole alpha power vibe you’ve got going on. You know what they say about men who seem like they’re overcompensating for something.”
The shadow vanished from Knox’s eyes and the shark-like calculation returned. “That they have big feet? Or am I mixing my old wives’ tales?”
“Emily, please. Leave us,” Ty said. “You’re embarrassing yourself and insulting me.”
That pulled her up short. She was way beyond damage control when it came to her own embarrassment, but she did care about insulting Ty. She might not trust Ty to know what he was doing, not after this crippling deal with the devil himself, but she still respected Ty enough to honor his plea. With a nod, she walked with stiff, proud steps to the door.
“Ms. Ford, the suspense is killing me. What do they say about men who seem like they’re overcompensating?” Knox said, sounding amused.
Gritting her teeth, she paused with one foot out the door and tossed a look over her shoulder, startling all over again at Knox’s aura of cool perfection. The cut of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, eyes that were as cruel as they were wise. How had she ever thought she could win over a man like that with peaches and pheasant? Whatever family shame Knox was overcompensating for, it wasn’t going to save Emily or her beloved resort. Knox Briscoe was beyond redemption, her career was over before it had even gotten off the ground, and life was never going to be the same again.
“Haven’t you heard?” she said. “The thing about men who seem like they’re overcompensating for something, is that they always are.”
Chapter Two
Four weeks later …
Four miles into his inaugural trail run, Knox emerged from the tree-lined path and into a clearing at the top of the hill above his new house—the one he’d put an offer on the very same day his truck had backed into the lake and nearly drowned them both. He ground to a stop, hands on his hips, sweating like a beast.
Trail running in hill country was no joke. If only he could blame his breathlessness on the beauty of the view of the brilliant sunrise reflecting off the lake and the lush, green, rolling hills as far as the eye could see. The landscape was interrupted only by Briscoe Ranch Resort, which sat along the same kidney bean-shaped lake, separated from Knox’s house by a hill that cut into the lake from the right.
He brought his phone out and dialed Shayla’s number.
“Yo, bro.”
“I figured out the equation,” he said between labored breaths. “Every mile of trail running is the equivalent of two miles of city running. No, make that three.”
Shayla snorted derisively. “As long as you don’t use that as an excuse to slack off on your miles. Don’t leave me high and dry for the Dallas Marathon this spring.”
He grinned at the reminder. Racing with Shayla was one of his main motivational tools for working out. If she were to beat him too badly, he’d never hear the end of it. “You know me better than that.”
“Hey, shouldn’t you be getting ready for your first day at the resort right now?”
“Just about done with this run, but I had to take a break to admire the view. You’d love it.”
As the early morning fog burned off, the details of the resort shone in the sun in stark detail. The resort’s golf course began at the edge of the lake and extended out in rolling hills of manicured green grass. The resort itself looked like a wood and river rock Wild West castle. Beyond the main building on a hill to the north sat a chapel, looking the part of a lighthouse beckoning believers to its doors. On the west side of the golf course was the new, massive equestrian center that Ty Briscoe had reportedly agreed to finance as a gift to his son-in-law, the husband of his oldest daughter, Carina, in order to entice them to remain living at the resort. That was how important it was to Ty to keep the Briscoe family together.