Page 48 of Knot Only His

Harlow

I straighten my skirt and remove my jacket as I walk into my office, the smell of the leather chair wafting through the air.

I hang my jacket on the hook on the wall before taking a seat behind my desk. My eyes scan the now familiar space, taking in the neatly organized files and the framed photos of the entire LA Raiders team on the walls, holding up the Stanley Cup from a few years ago.

Just as I’m settling in, my colleague, Emily, pokes her head into my office. “Hey, Harlow, want a coffee?” she asks, holding up a cup.

I smile, grateful for the caffeine boost. “Yeah, thanks, Emily. That would be great.”

As she hands me the cup, I ask, “Hey, do you know if Carver Sinclair signed up for the team?”

My stomach flips just thinking about him. I haven’t seen Carver for three days—since Friday evening. He called me but I stayed home the entire weekend, consoling Freya, who’d had a run in with a dick of an alpha at Club Midnight.

“Oh my god, that man is gorgeous. You dated his brother, didn’t you?” Emily’s eyes light up.

“Yeah.”

Her face turns a shade of pink as she mumbles, “Sorry. I forget he did the dirty on you.”

I try my hardest not to grimace, and change the subject back to Carver. “I’m surprised the team managed it. He always told me he’d never leave New York.”

“We were surprised. The owner, Pierre, has had private meetings with Carver since he was a rookie, and offered him deals that would’ve broken records. I heard he’s the best. Not that Oliver Bradley enjoys hearing that, but he’ll get used to it. They’ll make the perfect team.”

I nod as I listen.

“And then, out of the blue, he contacted us a couple of weeks ago. Pierre met him at a secret location and the next thing he’s agreed to sign up, but New York refuses to release him early.”

A couple of weeks ago.Before we started texting.

“Can he change his mind?”

“He hasn’t officially signed on the dotted line yet. The club is still finalizing the details with him, but it’s looking good.”

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to process the information. A couple of weeks ago? That means he knew where I was pretty quick.

I do the math in my head, and a smile spreads across my face. He must have made arrangements as soon as I left New York.

“I wonder what changed his mind,” Emily muses as she opens the door. “Or who?”

Me.

I bite my bottom lip as the thought sends a flutter through my chest.

He’s willing to upend his life for me, to follow me across the country, when he claimed he’d never leave his beloved Bears. It’s a lot more than his brother ever did for me. But can I really have a relationship with Carver?

I push the thought aside, focusing on the warmth spreading through my chest. For now, I just let myself feel happiness, and the sense of being wanted. I take another sip of my coffee, savoring the taste, and let out a contented sigh as I type his name into the database.

I scroll through the details of Carver’s contract, my heart racing as I read the details. The numbers blur together, but one thing stands out—it’s the largest contract ever offered to a hockey player.

My breath hitches. He was offered money like this before and he refused to leave New York.

He’s doing this for me.

As I scan the perks, I notice they’re paying for a rental in the Hills for him for a few weeks. My fingers hover over the keyboard as I click on the address, and the screen fills with images of a stunning modern house perched high above Los Angeles.

There are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and a shimmering pool bathed in the afternoon sun.

I lean closer to my screen, captivated by the view and everything that comes with it—the city glimmering in the distance, that sprawling expanse of blue stretching endlessly.

---