Page 84 of Knot Just for Show

“Surprised, sure—but you look unmistakably pleased,” I tease, sliding the shallow bowl—two prawns balanced delicately against each other in a small pool of delicate, ocean-y broth; a pinch of peppery microgreens placed atop the plump morsels.

“What can I say—I find you boys giving each other attention,almostas exciting as you showeringmewith attention.”

I take a moment to watch Ursula, her silverware held delicately in her hands as she cuts herself a piece of prawn and takes a bite.

Her eyes flutter closed, and she makes a small moan of pleasure as her full lips purse around that first bite.

“This is incredible Mav, it tastes like taking a bite of the ocean itself,” she sighs happily, and I realize that I could watch her eat my food all day, especially if she’s going to treat me to lewd little faces and sounds like that.

“How have the other boy’s been so far? What’s my competition looking like?” I tuck into my own plate of prawns across the counter from her—sure to replenish her crystal flute with more of the pale pink fizz.

Ursula tosses back her head with that big brassy laugh—her raven curls bouncing as her shoulders lift.

“I swear—you alphas are always turning something into a contest.” She shakes her head. “Teddy was saying something similar.” She raises her glass in my direction before taking another swig.

“That’s not an answer,” I taunt—clearing away her empty plate before I grab a small chilled dish from the freezer.

“How much detail are you looking for, Chef?” She challenges, her decolletage—dusted with fine glitter, catches the overhead lights of the kitchen—and I nearly forget to hand her the passion fruit sorbet I’ve made as a palate cleanser.

“I mean, I don’t want to be ungentlemanly—but also, I don’t mind a little imagination fodder while I’m making dinner. Since I’m forced to keep my hands off you for at least—a pasta course, a main, and a dessert/coffee service,” I sigh dramatically—drawing another bawdy laugh from Ursula. I can’t help but feellike I’ve won some kind of gold star each time she lets loose one of those big belly laughs, despite the tension of the situation.

“Well, both Ash and Teddy were certainly able to please—though I have to say that I’ve found myself to be a bit more of a tart than I realized,” Ursula sighs melodramatically—gently swirling the dregs of her cremant at the bottom of the crystal flute.

I nearly choke on my own tongue when she says, “I would have happily fucked either or both of them on our dates, but I suppose if we’re doing so many things thenon-traditional way—we should at least try to keep to the standard guidelines of courtship.”

“I mean—who says we have to stand on tradition?” I cough out, dropping a handful of vibrant green pasta, infused with tangy local greens and herbs into the pot of water at a rolling boil on the stove.

“Technically…no one,” Ursula bats her lashes innocently at me—and I’m half wondering if it’s an invitation to clear the counter top in one wide sweep of my arm and fuck her right there on the counter, but before I can make any moves, her voice pipes up again—coy and sweet, “But I don’t trust myself not to beg for you or Teddy to bite me early. If I’m this crazy about all of you and I haven’t even taken one of my alpha’s knots? I’m almost scared to see what I’m going to be like once we actually get there.” She laughs it off, but I can see the trepidation in her posture—hear it in her voice as she squirms slightly on her stool.

“Point taken. I’m not sure I could be trusted either, under the current conditions,” I admit—and I’m gratified by the deep blush that paints Ursula’s cheeks.

“So, it sounds like everything’s been coming up roses, but has there been anything that’s given you pause? Made you doubt the process?” I press on, starting to build a sauce for the pasta in mysaute pan—a handful of brilliant yellow chanterelle mushrooms, garlic, and butter filling the air with a rich, earthy scent.

Besides discussing our own curious history, Ronan and I have discussed the matter of Teddy Wong—how things seemed ‘off’ in the lounge, but have become less and less concerning as we’ve all started figuring out where we stand in terms of chemistry—how we all play off of one another now that we’re sharing physical space.

There’s also the broader matter of our pack’s internal structure. There are two alphas—myself and Teddy, eligible to take the place of pack lead…but there hasn’t been any discussion on the matter, and I don’t want to be the one to broach the subject with the rest of the group. Even though I myself have little to no interest in the position, I would be lying if I said that there wasn’t a little nagging scratch at the back of my brain telling me that Teddy just isn’t a viable option.

“Everything seems to be going almost too smoothly, if I’m being honest,” Ursula sighs, her head tilted thoughtfully as she watches me add a splash of expensive cognac to the pan with the mushrooms. “I’m sure that we’re due for a bit of excitement during our first mixer, though.” Her eyes widen theatrically as she finishes off the rest of her drink.

“Oh yeah? Didn’t you say your bestie from the bubbles ended up calling it quits before the reveal?” I gently toss the contents of the pan in the air and catch them once more with a gentle flick of the wrist.

“Yeah, I’m bummed that we won’t see her until they trot out all the people who didn’t make it to the island,” she pouts, reaching across the counter to grab the bottle of bubbly—her cleavage threatening to overspill the chartreuse satin of her dress’ neckline. I have to redirect my attention to the pan quickly—turning down the heat and adding the heavy cream quickly inorder to keep the whole thing from becoming a burnt mess from my momentary neglect.

“Understandable.” I use a pair of tongs to pull the nest of vibrant green pasta from the boiling water—dropping it into the creamy mushroom sauce bubbling in my saute pan, doing my best to keep my eyes from wandering again.

“But, both Ash and Teddy dated Britt in the bubbles…and she’s dating Anton, who I chatted with, albeit very casually. I rejected him at the scent card exchange—so I have no idea how things are going to go when I have to face the mean girls again.” Ursula’s brow pinches—her mouth turning down in a small frown.

I decide that now is not the time to bring up my possible doubts concerning Teddy. Things had been going so well, and here I am—picking at a metaphorical scab, surprised when the healing wound starts to bleed.

“Personally, I can’t wait to show you off,” I say, in an attempt to steer conversation back to the sunnier side. “These outfits you’ve been wearing make it hard to leave the house—if we weren’t on such a regimented schedule for the show, I’m not sure any of us would have made it out the door with some of these ensembles you’ve been serving.” I flash my canines at her in a risque grin, twirling one portion of pasta into a small nest before placing it in the center of a bowl with an asymmetrical rim.

“I hope that extends to the ‘real world,’ beyond this isolated paradise.” She smiles, but her eyes twinkle with unshed tears, ever threatening to spill over.

I stop, laying my plating tweezers and the tongs I was using to spin the pasta with on the counter—my palms flat on the stone as I meet her citrine eyes with a serious gaze.

“We’re not doing our job right, as your pack, if that question is weighing on your mind. For that, I’m sorry,” I say softly, but firmly.

“No, it’s not your fault—I just—” Ursula’s breath hitches on a sob, and my feet are carrying me around the kitchen island, my hands outstretched to her as she slides off the stool.

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