Page 66 of Knot a Good Idea

Baby steps.

Baby steps are pointless,however, when it comes to the chaos that’s waiting for me back at home.

I scent him before I see him, and I’m convinced my mind is playing tricks on me.

Spicy cloves and pepper invade my senses, and my mouth waters involuntarily.

There’s no way he’s here, right?

But the sleek grey sportscar covered in punk band stickers parked on my street gives him away.

And when I open my front door, I hear a low voice chuckling with delight.

I drop my purse on the couch, then head to the kitchen to see Hunter at our kitchen table, grinning at my mom.

My mom, who has apparently decided to cook dinner for him. A gorgeous flower arrangement of white roses and lilacs sits in the center of the dining table.

Tammy loves flowers. Hunter has already won her over.

“There she is,” my mom says, giving me a genuine smile. “Look who came over to visit.”

“Hey babe,” Hunter grins, his gold eyes crinkling at the corners. “I came to surprise you.”

I gawk at him. “I, uh…”

He turns to my mom. “I guess she’s thoroughly surprised,” he jokes, and my mom beams.

What the hell?

And that’s when I notice what’s on their plates.

Beef bourguignon and mashed potatoes.

My mom’s famous dish, the one she only brings out on holidays or special occasions.

The one that takeshoursto prepare.

“Really?” I ask her. “My favorite meal? You haven’t cooked this in years.”

“Oh, I helped her,” Hunter smirks. “Don’t worry, babe. I wouldn’t let your mom do all the work by herself.”

“Which I really appreciate,” my mom replies, and my jaw drops.

“Sorry,” I choke out, doing my best to not look shocked that Hunter’s here. “Can I speak to you in private, Hunter?”

My mom watches me carefully. “Can it wait till after dinner?”

“It’s no problem, Miss Waters,” he says, and I roll my eyes. “I’ll be back in one moment.”

When he stands, I grab his arm and pull him out of the kitchen, into the front room, and out the door.

We stand in the driveway, far away enough that my mom can’t hear, and I take him in for a moment.

He’s in a fitted blue V-neck shirt, his tattoos snaking out and up to his neck. His hair is slightly mussed, and he’s grown scruff since I’ve last saw him.

It’s not that I’m not happy to see him. It’s just that I didn’t expect him to visit and being caught off guard is making me panic.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, looking toward the front door.

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