Page 11 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

"Missing?" His eyebrow raises.

"Can't explain it. Just know I want more. Need more. And she's holding back." I meet his eyes. "You'll understand when you meet her."

"If she forgives us and her friends for the setup." He grins, but there's hunger in his expression. "Knox gets his shot next to meet her since he insisted."

My hands clench at the thought of my friend near her, but strangely, it doesn't feel like jealousy. More like... anticipation. We've decided against traditional dating, wanting to meet her in more organic situations, for her to see us as we are in our jobs, like I met her at the festival. Dates are always fucking awkward for everyone.

Dominic's gaze gleams. "Think her friends know what she's really set up here?"

"Does it matter? We've all been searching for our Omega, and I think she might be the one for us. I swear I feel my scent matches with hers, but I need more time to be close to her, to be sure."

Dominic whistles, then chuckles loudly, gaining some glances our way. "Guess we'll find out." He checks his phone. "Speaking of Knox, he's asking if Marcus is handled." He types his response, already knowing the answer.

I watch Ruby through the window outside her bar, accepting something from the mailman. She's laughing at something he said, and my chest aches.

"Think she can handle us all?"

Dominic's gaze follows mine. "From what you've told me... I'm more than ready to find out." His voice drops lower. "When my turn comes, she'll have to be ready."

"She's perfect."

"You've got it bad, my friend."

"Yeah." I don't bother denying it. "But something tells me I'm not the only one who will."

He doesn't deny it, just watches her with that calculating look I know too well. The one that says he's already planning his approach, already imagining his own chance.

"Well," he says finally. "This should be an interesting Christmas."

5

RUBY

The Wednesday night crowd at my bar keeps me busy enough to almost forget about the flowers. Almost. They sit at the end of the bar, winter rose camellias in various shades of pink, making my heart skip every time I catch their sweet, floral scent mixed with the lingering memory of Garrett's kiss.

"Boss, table four needs another round." Ash's voice pulls me back to reality. My bouncer in the bar and bartender moves behind the bar, his sleeve tattoos catching the warm lighting. The nautical scenes wrapping his arms seem to move when he works, waves and ships dancing as he mixes drinks. I told him that once I make more money, I will hire a bouncer, so he focuses on the bar side of things.

I met Ash five years ago when Eve was still alive. He'd wandered in looking for work, fresh out of the Navy with too many tattoos for most places to hire him. Eve took one look at his gentle Beta nature, hiding behind that tough exterior, and hired him on the spot. Now he's more family than employee.

"You're staring at them again," he says, nodding toward the flowers while pouring drinks.

"Am not." I busy myself wiping down the already clean bar top, my skirt swishing around my knees with my fast movements. "Just making sure they're not dying."

"Uh-huh." He grins, showing the small gap between his front teeth that somehow makes him look more charming. "Nothing to do with the Alpha who sent them?"

"Just a guy I met at the festival." I throw my rag at him. "When you abandoned me for your grandmother's birthday."

"Hey!" He catches the rag with the reflexes that make him such a good bouncer. "Nana's only turning 100 once. Besides, sounds like you managed just fine without me." His eyes twinkle. "Unless there's something you're not telling me about this festival guy?"

I'm saved from answering by a customer ordering my newest brew, Midnight Porter. To me it smells and even has an aftertaste of roasted grains, chocolate, and toffee, one of the reasons it's so popular.

"We're almost out," I tell Ash as I pour. "Can't believe how fast it's selling."

"Because it's amazing. Eve would be proud—" He stops mid-sentence, eyes widening as he looks toward the door.

My heart knows who it is before I turn around.

Garrett walks in like he owns the place, all confident Alpha energy wrapped in a blue-and-black checkered shirt that stretches perfectly across his shoulders as he shoulders off his jacket. Three days' worth of stubble darkens his jaw, and his short, dark hair is slightly messed up from the snow outside. He hangs his jacket by the door, and I definitely don't watch the way his muscles move under his shirt.

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