Page 35 of Knotting With A Stranger

“What?” Hunter’s brow furrows. “Hell if I know. Someone he worked with, I assume. Never really asked about it. Why?”

I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. “Well, our guest says that woman is her grandmother.”

“What the fuck!” Hunter’s eyes go wide, his gaze shooting to the ceiling. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. Which could mean...” I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “You might be related to the prettiest baker in town.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Hunter growls, but there’s shock written all over his face. “Grandfather never mentioned...”

“Well, guess you’ve got some family history to uncover.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Though this definitely puts her out of your league now, bruh.”

“What are you two yapping about?” James interrupts. Prison didn’t soften his edges—if anything, it made them sharper. He’s all muscle and threat, even casually leaning against the wall.

Hunter straightens. “We’ve got a guest staying until the storm passes. Young woman from Whispering Grove, whose car broke down nearby.”

“A woman from a bakery?” James’s eyebrows shoot up, something predatory crossing his face. “Here?”

“Back off,” I say, lowering my tone. “She’s not looking for company.”

“Wait.” James’s face changes, recognition flickering in his eyes. “You said she’s from Whispering Grove?”

Hunter steps forward, tension radiating off him. “Yeah, and she’s staying here for now. So don’t fucking start with your shit, understood?”

“Me?” James raises his hands, but there’s something calculating in his smile that I don’t like. “When have I ever caused trouble?”

“You want the list chronologically or alphabetically?” I ask, keeping my tone light even as I position myself between him and the stairs.

“Look at you two,” James sneers, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “All protective of some female you just met.”

“Says the man who once punched a guy for looking at Hunter’s ex wrong,” I remind him with a grin.

“That was different,” James grumbles. “Guy was a creep. I’m a gentleman. So, Hunter… Should we start calling you her brother?”

“Don’t start,” Hunter warns, but there’s no heat in it. He heads toward the kitchen. “Since you’re both so concerned about my possible family tree, you can help check the generator and bring in more firewood before this storm gets worse.”

“Always with the manual labor,” James sighs dramatically, but he’s already shrugging his coat back on.

“You could always go back to prison labor instead,” I suggest helpfully, ducking the glove he throws at my head.

And just like that, we’re back to being teenagers hauling wood for his grandfather, complaining the whole way but doing it. Some traditions you don’t mess with.

9

LILY

The hot shower is exactly what I needed. Staring at myself in the mirror, where my skin is flushed pink from the heat, I take my time combing through my damp hair. The bathroom is impressive for a cabin—spacious, with high-end fixtures and the kind of water pressure my bakery building can only dream about. Hunter’s cousin must be organized, leaving everything from hair products to lotions neatly arranged on glass shelves. I’ve helped myself to some leave-in conditioner that smells like vanilla and almonds.

I debate putting my hair up before deciding against it. Something about being in a house full of Alphas makes me want to keep it down, like a curtain I can hide behind if needed. The borrowed clothes fit better than they should—soft gray leggings that hug my curves without being too tight and an oversized cream sweater that feels like being wrapped in a cloud. It falls off one shoulder slightly, exposing more skin than I’d usually show around Alphas.

The thick socks I found are ridiculous—covered in little foxes that make me smile despite everything. Definitely not what I’d expect to find in a cabin full of Alpha males. I wiggle my toes in them, wondering about the cousin who left them behind. What kind of woman spends enough time here to have her own wardrobe? More importantly, what kind of Alphas keep a fully stocked women’s bathroom, complete with fancy hair products and lotions?

“Get it together, Lily,” I mutter, leaning closer to the mirror. My cheeks are still pink from the shower’s heat, my eyes bright in a way that has nothing to do with temperature. I look... different. Softer without my usual practical clothes and flour-dusted apron. More vulnerable. “You’ve handled worse than being stuck in a cabin with two ridiculously attractive Alphas.” A pause. “Okay, maybe not worse. But different. Definitely different.”

I smooth some frizz from my hair, wishing I had my usual products. Hannah would know exactly what to do—my sister has always been the put-together one, while I’m usually more concerned with what’s in the oven than what’s in my closet. She’d be having a field day with this situation. It’s like every romance novel she’s ever tried to get me to read.

The thought of her makes my chest ache. She must be worried sick. I check my phone again—still no signal, my message stuck in digital limbo. “Sorry, sis,” I whisper to my reflection. “Guess you’ll have to handle the morning rush alone tomorrow.

“At least they’re not the big bad wolf type,” I mutter, then laugh at myself. Though, Archer in the kitchen earlier... the way he moved, the intensity in his eyes when he looked at me...Stop it, Lily.These are real, potentially dangerous men who just happen to have rescued you from a storm. A storm that’s still raging outside the window, turning the world white.

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