Page 19 of Knotted

The flavor hits again, stopping me mid-sip. My dad’s coffee usually tastes like it could fuel a tank, and Colby’s brew? Well, that’s pure caffeine on steroids. But this...this is paradise, warm and soothing and just a hint of decadence. “This is your recipe?”

He shrugs, casual as ever. “Not exactly.”

There’s a strange pause, heavy with something I can’t quite place. Then he nods toward the mug in my hand. “Dark roast, shot of espresso, two pumps of vanilla, and a dash of cinnamon. The Bishop special.”

Dad pops in, his protective radar pinging off the charts. “The what?”

Uh-oh. Cue the internal alarms.

It’s one thing that Brian torched my reputation and forced me into seclusion. But I’m still Daddy’s little girl. Dad always warned me away from Brian—probably because of Angi—and I’m fairly certain that if the two of them were within a mile of each other, one of them wouldn’t make it out alive.

And by one of them, I mean Brian.

Given that Mom swore on a stack of Ina Garten cookbooks that the name Brian Bishop would never leave her lips in front of Dad, I know she didn’t say a word. Except, apparently, to Colby.

Colby steps in, casually fixing his own cup of coffee as if this conversation isn’t teetering on the edge of disaster. “Relax, Dad. Noneed to sharpen the pitchforks. It’s just a TikTok thing. Named after some coffee fanatic bishop.”

Dad narrows his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” I chime in, trying to smooth things over. “It’s as legit as yetis doingMagic Mikeroutines and that woman who claims she’s a raccoon whisperer. If it’s on TikTok, it’s gospel. Hashtag verified.”

Dad’s gaze shifts between us, suspicion lingering in his eyes. “The two of you seriously need help.”

“One of us does,” Colby quips, jerking his chin in my direction. “I’m not watching stripping sasquatches.”

“You, young lady—” Dad’s stern brow levels right at me “—I’m going to pretend my youngest daughter thinks Magic Mike is a magician.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m twenty-five.”

He drops a kiss on my head, unfazed. “And still my baby.” Then, with a devilish grin, he swipes the last éclair.

“Hey!” I object.

He wags it teasingly. “Consider this your penance for inheriting all your mom’s spunk.” He takes a bite, eyes flicking to his watch. “And you two better get going unless you’re planning on making a grand late entrance for your new boss.”

Colby fixes two fresh Bishop Specials in to-go mugs, and we rush out the door with Mom, Dad, and Halmeoni trailing behind us like we’re off to win a war. Grandma gives Colby a light tap on the chest. “Drive safe, and don’t worry. I’ll have some hotdakgangjeongwaiting for lunch.”

Great. Now I’m going to be thinking about my brother devouring that crispy, sweet, and sticky Korean fried chicken instead of me. She tucks a delicate pink flower behind my earand pats my cheek with a gentle smile. “Come back soon, Juliana.”

“I will,” I promise.

We’re cruising down the road when something catches my eye. I do a double-take. “Is that a tattoo?”

He blinks, then smirks. “Yep. My fifth.” He flexes, showing off the ink—a bold black serpent coiled around his bicep, its eyes glinting, daring to be messed with.

“Do I even want to know where the others are?”

He grins that infuriating, cocky grin. “Nope. I’m surprised you don’t have one. I could totally see you with something like a feather or an infinity symbol.”

“I always thought it should be deeply personal. Meaningful.”

“Or just plain fun. I bet Angi’s got a tattoo or three.”

The mention of Angi shifts the air, the lighthearted banter giving way to something heavier. “Why are you really back, Colby?”

He sighs, the humor draining from his face. “Angi. She stole my identity and racked up charges on my government credit card. When my commanding officer flagged it, I knew something was seriously wrong. I have to find her and sort this out, or...” He trails off, the weight of what he’s not saying swooping in like a dark cloud.

“Or what?”

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