But he’d up the stakes—because everything that mattered hung in the balance.
“I see the wheels turning,” Amery said, snagging his attention back to the present.
“They are. I just need to figure a few things out before I go.”
“Go where?”
“To Tokyo.”
Amery grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She plopped her purse on her desk and rummaged around until she found what she needed. Then she handed it over to him.
Knox looked at the keycard. “What’s this?”
“A key to Shiori’s apartment in Tokyo. She asked me to check on her place while I was there. Lucky for you, with all that’s happened since we got back, I haven’t had a chance to return it.”
“Very lucky for me.” Symbols written in black Sharpie ran vertically down the back of the plastic card. “What’s this stuff on the back?”
“The code to the elevator is in kanji. I had to write it down exactly so I didn’t screw it up.”
“Handy.”
“Very. Do you have her address and apartment number?”
“No. If you’d give me that as well as her mother’s phone number, I’d appreciate it.”
“Good plan, letting Tammy know.” Amery’s eyes searched his. “Or are you worried she’ll blow the surprise?”
Knox took a moment to breathe slowly and deeply. “This isn’t a romantic surprise, Amery. This is me fighting for my chance to have a life with her. This is me proving to her she’ll never find another man who gives her what she needs like I do.”
Amery turned teary-eyed. “Good luck. I’ll take care of things with Ronin.”
“Thanks.”
He walked out of Amery’s office with a million things on his mind. So he wasn’t paying attention until a solid wall stepped in front of him. He looked into Deacon’s icy eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
“I called him,” Molly said. “You looked like you needed a friend.”
Knox wasn’t sure if the tension vibrating off Deacon was directed at Molly or at him.
Deacon moved the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. “What do you need?”
Just like that. No questions asked. “A ticket to Tokyo and a ‘sorry I’m a fuckhead’ gift.”
“You got enough cash for both of those? If not, I could float you a loan.”
Again his friend’s generosity touched him. He glanced over Deacon’s shoulder to see Molly watching them. He lowered his voice. “I think I can swing it. But thanks. It means a lot—”
“Don’t mention it.” Deacon held up his hand. “Seriously. Don’t.”
“Fine. Follow me to my place so I can get cleaned up and packed. Then on the way to Cherry Creek I’ll fill you in on what went down.”
“I’m never gonna get away from this touchy-feely friendship stuff with you, am I?”
“Probably not.”
After a beat or two, he shrugged. “Fine. I’ll listen until my ears bleed. But if you start crying, I’m punching you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MORNING sickness sucked ass.
Shiori had spent a good amount of time on the plane ride to Tokyo with a barf bag in her hand.
After her mom had met her at the airport, she’d whisked Shiori off to her childhood home, tucked her in bed, and let her sleep for twelve blissfully dark, quiet, vomit-free hours.
She’d lost track of time in the mad dash to get here. How long had it been since she’d left Denver? A day and a half? Two days? It’d all blended together.
A shower and a change of clothes made her feel human. But the first whiff of tea had sent her scurrying back to the toilet to rid her stomach of the glass of water she’d managed to drink.
She brushed her teeth—for the third time—and detoured to the living room, stretching out on the long leather couch that’d been in their house since her childhood. It was one of the few things that’d belonged to her father, which was probably why her mother had kept it.
Her mother appeared carrying a glass. “Ginger ale might help. I’ll set it over here.”
“Thanks, Mom. You’ve gone above and beyond.”
“Does it make me pathetic that I’m happy you need me for something?”
She fought another round of tears. “No. It makes me a crappy daughter that I’ve stayed so far out of touch you believed I didn’t need you.”
“It’s been a strange situation the last year. Something caused you to reevaluate everything you’d worked so hard to achieve.”