She was also embarrassed that she had let loose in front of Knox. She should just have left, but she had lost control when she had faced her father. All the admiration she’d had for him as a little girl when she would have at one time been overjoyed for her parents to get married were washed away by the memory of him with that other woman at the Destructors’ clubhouse.
The hardest thing to admit was that she could finally understand her mother after all these years; the attraction of wanting someone you knew was incapable of being faithful and being the man you wanted him to be. The torture of a body in need versus a mind that said it was a heartache in waiting. Knox was like the wind rushing passed them, uncontrollable and free. He would never be the man she needed to make her happy.
Chapter Thirteen
As Knox pulled up in front of Diamond’s apartment, she barely managed to wait for him to stop to jump off.
“Thanks for the ride.” Handing him the helmet, she took off for her door. When she was there, she realized too late she had left her purse in Knox’s saddlebag. As she turned to go back, she bumped into Knox.
“Diamond, what’s wrong with you? Don’t fucking jump off my bike like that again,” Knox growled, handing her purse to her.
Diamond ran her hand through her flattened hair. “I made a fool of myself. I didn’t mean to drag that crap out in front of you. I’m sorry.” Digging in her purse, she found her keys and then opened the door. She started to tell Knox goodnight, only to find herself propelled forward into her apartment.
“What are you doing?” Diamond said, startled.
“I’m going to check your apartment out before I leave,” Knox answered, brushing past her to walk through her apartment, checking each room.
“I believe I would notice if someone broke in,” Diamond said sarcastically.
“Your neighbors aren’t home next door. Who’s going to hear if you yell for help?” Knox said, unfazed by her attitude, which only irritated Diamond further.
“I have a cell phone,” she snapped.
“Yeah, you tell the man who breaks in and is waiting to take you out that you need to make a call. I’m sure he’ll listen,” Knox said sarcastically. “Until we find out who broke into your office, you need to play it safe, Diamond.”
In the turmoil of the last few hours she had forgotten about her office.
“I wasn’t thinking. Next time, I’ll be more careful,” Diamond admitted.
“Good. Now do you have anything to eat, I’m fucking starving.”
“I think I can manage something.” She laughed, setting her purse down on the table.
“Good, because I hate to tell you this, but your mama isn’t a good cook,” Knox said with a grimace.
Diamond had to agree. “How was the cake?” she asked, going to the refrigerator and pulling out lunchmeat, lettuce and tomatoes.
“I think she mixed up the salt with the sugar, and the chocolate was God awful,” Knox said, picking out an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.
“She always manages to mix up the different types of chocolate. Sorry my dad didn’t help you out.”
“Hell, I understand; in that situation it was every man for himself.” Diamond laughed harder.
“Thank God, she doesn’t cook often. Usually it’s about something pretty bad, and I guess, tonight was no exception,” Diamond said, her laughter dying.
“You don’t want your parents to get married?” Knox went to her fridge, pulling out a grape soda. “How long have they been together?” he asked, taking a bite of the apple.
“Thirty-five years. Twenty years longer than they should have been.”
Knox paused, unscrewing the bottled grape drink. “Is that the reason you yelled at them out in their front yard?”
Diamond made the sandwiches, cutting and slicing them, even removing the crust. Then, setting them on a couple of plates, she carried them to the table.
“Yes.” When they sat down to eat, regret began to bloom in her chest, making it hard to swallow.
“I bet they hate me.” Diamond got up, throwing the rest of her food away and putting her plate in the sink.
“No, they don’t. They aren’t real happy with you right now, but they don’t hate you,” Knox said. “I have to say, though, if a man can eat that kind of cooking from a woman, there has to be a lot of love there.” Diamond had to partially agree; her mom was a terrible cook, although she had never seen him complain, acting like each meal she served had been prepared by a five star chef.
“Sex Piston hates me.”
“That’s probably true,” Knox said, finishing his sandwich, then rose to put his own plate in the sink. Diamond leaned against the counter, trying not to laugh.