Page 54 of Knotting With A Stranger

“Favorite food?” I ask, stirring the mixture.

“I’m boring—Bolognese with extra garlic and parmesan.”

“Sounds divine,” I say, measuring vanilla. “Mine’s my grandmother’s apple pie with homemade cinnamon ice cream. It’s heaven in a bowl.”

“I would have guessed something with chocolate,” he teases, that dimple appearing again.

“That’s for comfort, not favorite,” I correct him with a smirk. “Important distinction.”

“So, what other distinctions do you make?” he asks, leaning forward slightly. “What else comforts you besides chocolate?”

There’s something easy about talking with Hunter. The conversation flows naturally as I finish mixing the dough.

“Want to help roll these into balls?” I ask, pushing the bowl toward him along with a parchment paper-covered baking tray.

He nods, washing his hands at the sink before joining me. When he returns to my side, standing close enough that our elbows brush, I have to remind myself to breathe.

His large hands are surprisingly deft as he rolls perfect spheres of cookie dough.

“You’re decent at this,” I observe. “Are you sure you don’t have a girlfriend somewhere? You seem skilled in the kitchen.”

A shadow passes over his face. “I had one years ago. Vanessa.” He focuses intently on the cookie dough, rolling it between his palms with perhaps more force than necessary. “Let’s just say she never had faith in me, and that ended upbeing our downfall. Got to have trust in any relationship.” His eyes flick to mine, searching for something. “What about you? Anyone waiting for you back home?”

“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “My last relationship ended about a year ago. He was a Beta, but it wasn’t serious, in all honesty. More like overcoming boredom.” I laugh at how lame I sound.

The kitchen door swings open, and James and Archer enter, both sniffing the air.

“What smells so divine?” Archer asks, scanning the kitchen.

“Chocolate chip cookies,” I explain, nodding toward Hunter.

James watches us, something unreadable in his expression as Archer dives in to wash his hands and help with the rolling. I made a triple batch, so there’s plenty to do.

“I have a great idea for tonight,” James announces suddenly. “To keep us entertained.”

“Sounds crazy already,” Archer laughs. “Your ideas normally are. But they’re fun.”

Hunter chuckles in agreement, and I find myself curious despite my wariness of James.

I refuse to ask what he has planned. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking I care that much. Instead, I turn to put the first two trays of cookies in the oven, Hunter’s words echoing in my mind.

Trust is needed in any relationship.

And trust is exactly what’s missing between James and me. So, why can’t I stop my heart from racing whenever he looks my way?

James never stops staring at me. Hunter moves beside me, reaching over my head to grab a plate from a high cabinet, his chest brushing against my back momentarily. The contact, brief as it is, sends another wave of heat through me. From across the kitchen, Archer looks at the freshly baked cookies withundisguised hunger that seems directed more at me than the treats.

“So, what’s this great idea of yours, James?” Hunter finally asks, breaking the charged silence.

James’s slow, predatory smile worries me. “A fun game,” he says. “Best way to pass the time in a storm.”

I feel a dangerous thrill race through my veins.

“Unless you’re afraid of a little fun, baker girl?” James adds with challenge behind his words.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I lie, despite the heat rising to my cheeks.

Hunter’s hand brushes against my lower back. “Good,” he murmurs. “This should be fun, then.”

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