Page 50 of Knot a Good Idea

I put my fork down and swallow. “Are you saying that because of what you found in my background check?”

He doesn’t answer, which is confirmation enough.

“You should have told me,” he says after a beat of silence.

I stare at the orange yolk running over the potatoes. “You didn’t recognize me,” I mutter. “It was refreshing to just exist without someone looking at me like they felt sorry for me.”

He drums his fingers on the marble surface, staying quiet.

“If you’re worried about someone else saying something?—”

“They won’t,” he interrupts me. “The people that you’ll meet are too wrapped up in their own lives to care. Even if they did recognize you, it’s not their fucking business. I’ll handle it.”

“What about the contract?” I ask quietly.

“I knew who you were when I had you sign it,” he says. “I didn’t find out until I had the results of the background check,but nothing’s changed. You’re still ours—pretendingto be ours until the contract expires. The money has been deposited.”

“Have you told Liam or Hunter?” I ask softly. It would be within his right to do it since they all signed.

Donovan shakes his head. “That’s up to you,” he says. “Only if you want to.”

I clench my fork, staring into his eyes. There is a wall behind his expression—almost as if he’s closed himself off from me.

Strictly business.

I nod, appreciating that he’s giving me the freedom to make my own choice.

“Alright,” I say. “Thank you.”

He nods, then looks at my plate, then back up at me.

He wants to tell me to eat.

Raising an eyebrow, I take another bite, giving him a pointed look.

The corner of his lip quirks, and for a second, I see a crack in his walls.

Then Hunter barrels into the kitchen shirtless, dressed only in black sweatpants that hang low on his hips.

I try not to ogle. I really do.

But deargod.

His chest isn’t completely covered in tattoos, but there’s enough black ink on a significant amount of him. The designs are intricate and complicated, done with skill and attention to detail.

But I don’t stare at his muscled chest for too long, refusing to let my eyes linger.

“Oh, shit. Hi April,” Hunter grins while Donovan rolls his eyes.

“You couldn’t put clothes on since we have a guest?” he snaps while Hunter raises an eyebrow. Then, he notices my plate of food.

“What the fuck, Don, you cooked? I wouldn’t have had cereal this morning.”

“This wasn’t for you, anyway,” Donovan says, crossing his arms.

Even though he said it was enough for everyone, I realize with glee that he only did this for me.

But I can’t let it show on my face. Instead, I give Hunter an apologetic smile. “You can have the rest of mine if you want.”

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