Page 104 of Knotting With A Stranger

I dart across the hallway to the guest room I’ve been using, Thor appearing from nowhere to follow at my heels. The malamute trots in behind me, settling on the rug with a contented sigh as I rummage through the borrowed clothes Hunter provided.

“What do you think, Thor?” I ask, holding up options. “The sweater or the t-shirt?”

Thor woofs softly, his blue eyes watching me with what seems like genuine interest.

“T-shirt it is,” I decide, dropping the towel to pull on underwear and a simple black bra.

The jeans I choose are a bit tight—Hunter mentioned they belong to his cousin who visits occasionally—but they’ll do. The t-shirt is long-sleeved with a deep V-neck that shows more cleavage than I’d usually display, and it rides up slightly to reveal a strip of skin at my waist when I move.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pause, startled by what I see. It’s not just the clothes or the still-damp curls framing my face—it’s something in my eyes, a confidence I don’t recognize. The woman looking back at me seems different somehow, lighter, happier than the Lily who crashed her car in a snowstorm.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel genuinely happy, centered in my own skin.

“Come on, boy,” I say to Thor, who rises immediately to follow me back into the hallway.

Archer emerges from his room at the same moment, his eyes darkening appreciatively as they travel over me. “You should wear other people’s clothes more often,” he says, voice dropping to a register that makes my stomach flip. “Preferably mine.”

“Smooth,” I reply, though I’m secretly pleased by his reaction. “Very smooth.”

He pulls me close, hands settling on my hips. “I mean it,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re stunning.”

Before I can respond, his lips find mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens, his hands sliding under the t-shirt to caress bare skin. I melt against him, arms winding around his neck, and everything else momentarily forgotten.

When we finally break apart, I’m struggling to remember what we were supposed to be doing. “We should... um...”

“Go downstairs,” he finishes, though he makes no move to release me. “Eventually.”

Thor whines softly beside us, clearly impatient with our human nonsense.

“Your chaperone has spoken,” Archer says with a laugh, finally stepping back. “Come on, let’s feed him and get some breakfast ourselves.”

As we move toward the stairs, I notice a picture frame on the floor beneath a now-empty nail in the wall. I pick it up carefully, turning it over to examine the image behind the cracked glass.

“What’s that?” Archer asks, peering over my shoulder.

“My grandmother with Hunter’s grandfather.” A photo I’d inspected days ago.

The photo shows her standing proudly in front of a storefront I recognize as an early version of Flour & Fable Bakery. Beside her is Hunter’s grandfather.

I’ve seen countless photos of my grandmother in her youth—the resemblance is unmistakable—but I still don’t get why there’s a picture of her here, in this cabin.

I turn the frame over, looking for any inscription or date, but find nothing. “How do they know each other?”

Archer takes the frame, examining it more closely.

Staring at him, an idea comes to me. “The phone lines are back up now, right?” I ask. “I should call my sister, anyway, let her know I’m okay. But maybe I could also video call my grandmother at Pine Grove Nursing Home and show her this photo.”

“Oh, she’s still alive? Brilliant idea,” Archer comments. “I have an iPad we can use for the video call—bigger screen. Let me grab it from my room.”

“Perfect. I’ll go downstairs and call Hannah first.”

In the living room, I settle on the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. Thor claims the spot beside me, his large head resting on my lap as if it belongs there. I scratch his head absently as I turn on my phone, noticing a number of messages suddenlypopping up on my phone as it catches up. Mostly from Hannah… my stomach sinks. I dial my sister’s number.

She answers on the first ring, her voice tight with worry. “Lily? Oh my God, are you okay? I’m so fucking worried!”

Guilt washes over me instantly. “I’m fine, Han, I promise,” I say quickly. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call again after the first message. The storm knocked out the phone lines, and everything’s been kind of... intense.”

“Intense? What does that mean? Where are you? I’ll come get you right now.”

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