Page 19 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

"And sharks weren't impressed with your skills?"

He grins, and my insides soften at the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.

"I came in fourth." He shrugs, but I catch the disappointment in his voice. "The competition was intense this year."

"Fourth place is incredible. So, you travel often, then?" I watch him measure cocoa into a mug.

"Here and there." Steam rises as he adds hot water to the cup. "But nothing feels quite like being home in Whispering Grove." Something shadows his expression. "Grew up here. My parents have passed now, but..."

"I'm so sorry." The pain in his voice is hard to ignore.

"Traffic accident." He shrugs, turning to grab marshmallows from the cupboard on the wall. "Ten years ago now." The words are clipped, holding back emotions it feels. I can't blame him. "Marshmallows? I'm a two-minimum kind of guy."

"Two sounds perfect."

The mug warms my cold hands as he guides me to a window seat. The beige cushions look well-loved, clearly a favorite spot. Through the glass, the storm intensifies, snow swirling in angry patterns while tree branches shake violently.

He guides me to the window seat, and I catch Mia whispering something to Kym that makes them both glance in my direction. I ignore them.

"Knox?" Kym interrupts us, standing a few feet away. "Can you please help? I think I have a splinter..."

"You're still wearing gloves," he points out without looking away from me, but I notice her scowl as she slips away.

"I don't mind if you help her. She's your girlfriend, right?" Part of me is playing dumb, but I need to hear it from his lips.

"Fuck no!" he answers abruptly, his brow furrowing as if it hurts him just thinking about such a notion. "I don't have a girlfriend right now. Anyway, you should come trekking more often," he says to me, settling down near.

Not too close, but close enough that his scent wraps around me, leaving me buzzing all over. Especially with hearing he's a free man.

"Amazing how you can find yourself in the wilderness," he continues.

I laugh, but it comes out shakier than intended. "I would love that more than you can imagine."

"Tell me about you. What makes you buzz?" His tone is so casual.

"My brewery is my life." I go on to explain my creations in detail and end up speaking more than expected, then pause to take a sip of my drink. He's watching me closely, with more interest than just being polite. "But more recently, life has been a bit of a bitch."

His laugh is unexpected and rich. "You sound like me. When I lost my parents, I went dark. Really dark. Hated fucking everything." He runs a hand through his hair again, and the gesture is so endearing, it makes my chest ache. "That's actually how I found out about trekking in the mountains. Needed something to pull me out of the darkness."

"Did it work?"

"Not at first." He glances outside, then back at me. "First few trips, I just walked until I couldn't anymore. Then I collapsed wherever I ended up. Probably lucky I didn't freeze to death."

"What changed?"

"Met this old guide. Complete asshole, but he saw something in me. Made me learn proper survival skills, navigation, and first aid. Said if I was going to be stupid enough to walk into the wilderness, I should at least be smart enough to walk back out."

I find myself smiling. "Sounds like Eve." He gives me a questioning look. "My aunt. She had this way of helping people by pretending she wasn't helping at all."

"The best ones do." His smiles, his piercing eyes never leaving me, and something in my stomach flips. "Anyway, he got me into proper training. Then, I discovered surfing on a trip to California. Something about catching waves... it's like time stops. Nothing exists except you and the water."

I know very little about surfing except that those who do it are super brave to ride those huge waves.

"Is that why you compete?"

"Partly." He shifts, and his arm brushes mine. Tingles zip through me at the contact, and there's something so comforting just chatting with him. "Mostly it gives me purpose. Something to work toward, you know?"

The question hits deeper than he probably intended. What ismypurpose? The bar, obviously. Eve's legacy. But is that enough? Is that why I'm fighting so hard to keep it?

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