Page 86 of Seen Knot Heard

Louie pauses at the threshold, turning back to face us. “Until next time, my dear.” He blows me a mocking kiss. “I look forward to our reunion.”

The door swings shut with a metallic clink, and silence falls over the lobby. My knees weaken, and I sag against Blake. Nathaniel steps to our sides and rests a hand on my shoulder.

The manager turns to us, her expression softening. “Are you all right, Chloe dear?”

“I’m fine.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’m fine. Just freaked out.”

“Alphas like that are always bad news. Best to take the fire exit. I’ll be filing a report, and I suggest you do the same. Men like him are trouble.” With a hard glare toward the door, she turns and walks away, leaving us alone in the lobby.

“It’s okay.” Blake’s lips brush my temple. “We won’t let him hurt you.”

Even as he says the words, I can’t shake the feeling of dread that settles in my stomach.

This isn’t over. No matter how far I run, Louie will always find me.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Holden

The savory scent of beef stew fills the kitchen from the stock pot cooling on the stovetop while I roll out personal-sized crusts for pot pie.

I hope Chloe will enjoy these as much as she did last time. Today will have been rough for her, and I want everything to be perfect.

“Uncle Holden!” Quinn comes crashing into the kitchen, her flowery dress swishing around her knees.

“Hey, kiddo.” I transfer the crust to the greased and floured pan waiting beside my wooden board. “Be more careful coming through that door.

Quinn drags a chair up next to me at the island counter. “What’cha making?”

“Beef pot pies.” I roll out the next crust. “Where’s Uncle Dom?”

“He’s doing boring laundry.” Quinn climbs up onto a seat and props her elbows on the marble surface. “Can we make pie crust cookies? Pretty please?”

I glance down into her big, pleading eyes and chuckle. She and Blake really have perfected that look. “Let me finish thesepies and pop them into the oven first, okay? Then we’ll see what we can do with the scraps.”

Quinn claps her hands, then settles in to watch my handiwork, humming a nameless tune.

As I bring over the pot of stew, I ask, “What do you think of Chloe? You’ve gotten to spend some time with her, huh?”

Quinn’s face lights up. “Oh, I love her! She’s so pretty and nice. Fun, too. She listens to my stories and lets Uncle Blake do our hair the same!”

Her enthusiastic gushing is like sipping a mug of rich cocoa, warming me from the inside out.

“Uncle Holden?” Quinn tilts her head to the side. “Do you love Chloe? Like a princess and prince in the stories?”

I almost drop the pie I’m crimping, though I should have expected something like this. Kids are so blunt with their questions. My ears warm, and my cheeks flush.

My head turns left and then right to make sure we’re alone before I bend to Quinn’s level. “Can you keep a secret?”

At her solemn nod, I whisper, “I do love Chloe. Very much. Butshhh, okay? I haven’t told her yet.”

“Why not?” Quinn asks with the innocent directness of youth.

“Well, we haven’t known each other very long yet.” I pause, searching for a way to explain this to a six-year-old. “Sometimes, when you tell someone you love them, it can be a little scary. You want it to be the perfect moment, so they feel happy and special. Do you understand?”

Quinn purses her lips as she processes this. Then she splits into a grin and mimes locking her mouth and tossing away an invisible key. “I won’t tell. You should, though, soon. When Chloe looks at you, it’s like….” She presses her hand to her forehead and swoons.

Laughing, I catch her around the waist. “No fainting while standing on chairs.”

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