Page 29 of Knot on the Market

Dean's smile widens. "Good. That's... really good."

We walk to the front door together, the evening air cool against my skin when Dean opens it. He pauses on the threshold, turning back to look at me with an expression I can't quite read.

"Lila," he says, his voice softer than it's been all evening. "I know you're figuring things out, and I don't want to mess withthat. But I just... I needed you to know that tonight was really good. Better than I hoped, actually."

The words are simple, honest, delivered without expectation or pressure. Dean isn't asking for anything I'm not ready to give, just making sure I understand that this mattered to him.

"For me too," I say quietly.

Dean nods, something satisfied and warm crossing his face. "You're doing better than you think, Lila," he says, echoing his earlier words. "Whatever brought you here, whatever you're running from... you're stronger than you know."

Then he's walking down my front path with that easy, confident stride, carrying Muffin toward Mrs. Jones's house, and I'm standing in my doorway watching him go and wondering how someone I've known for less than a week can make me feel so thoroughly seen and accepted.

I close the door behind him and lean against it, breathing in the lingering traces of his scent and the warm smells of the meal we shared. The house feels different tonight. Not empty, despite being alone again, but full of the echoes of companionship and care.

I walk back to the living room and find myself drawn to the poetry book still sitting on the bookshelf. Without quite meaning to, I open it to the marked page and read Julian's chosen words again.

"From broken places, something beautiful grows. Not in spite of the cracks, but because of them. Light gets in where we least expect it, and what seems like ending becomes the space where beginning lives."

The words hit differently now, after an evening spent feeling like myself again instead of like someone performing the role of herself. Maybe Julian was right to mark this particular poem. Maybe there is something beautiful growing in the spaces where my old life fell apart.

And maybe, for the first time since I arrived in Honeyridge Falls, I'm starting to believe that beautiful thing might actually be me.

I close the book and carry it with me as I head upstairs, my house settling into comfortable quiet around me. Tomorrow I'll deal with whatever complications come next. Tomorrow I'll figure out what it means that I'm attracted to three very different alphas who represent three very different approaches to the life I'm trying to build.

Tonight, I'm going to read poetry and remember what it feels like to be cared for without conditions, to be seen without being scrutinized, to exist in a space where broken things can become beautiful given enough time and the right kind of attention.

Tonight, that feels like enough.

Chapter 10

Dean

Iwake up thinking about her laugh.

It's the first thing that hits me when consciousness creeps back in. Not the alarm clock, not the morning light filtering through my blinds, but the memory of Lila's genuine, surprised laughter when I told her she was making progress by not burning anything down in twenty-four hours. The way it transformed her whole face, like she'd forgotten she was allowed to find things funny.

I roll over and check my phone. 5:23 AM. Still early, but I've been awake for at least twenty minutes just lying here replaying last night. Might as well get up and make the most of the time before my shift starts. The way she looked in that green dress. How her scent changed when we were close in the kitchen. The soft sound she made when I reached over her for the olive oil, barely audible, but it shot straight through me like lightning.

The way she said "For me too" when I told her the evening was really good, better than I'd hoped.

I drag myself out of bed and throw on running clothes, trying to get my head on straight. It was supposed to be just dinner. Just neighbors being neighborly, like I told her when I asked.Except it didn't feel like "just" anything, and I'm having trouble pretending it did. I'm the one who said "as friends" to make her comfortable, but now I'm wondering if that was a mistake.

The early morning air helps, but it doesn't do much for the restless feeling that's been building since I left her house last night. I keep thinking about the moment when Muffin interrupted us in the kitchen. What might have happened if that cat hadn't chosen that exact second to demand attention. Would I have kissed her? Would she have let me?

More importantly, what does it mean that I wanted to so badly?

I've dated before, but never an omega. Always betas, relationships that were comfortable and straightforward. But this feels completely different in a way that should probably worry me. Like something shifted last night, and I don't know how to shift it back. Or that I want to.

By the time I'm heading out for my morning run, I've convinced myself that checking on Lila today would be the neighborly thing to do. Maybe she needs help with something else around the house. Maybe she's struggling with that temperamental oven again. Maybe she just needs someone to remind her she doesn't have to handle everything alone.

The fact that I want to see her smile again has nothing to do with it.Obviously.

Honeyridge Falls is still quiet at this hour. Just a few early risers walking dogs and the distant sound of someone starting their car. The morning sun is just beginning to warm things up, and by the time I'm halfway through my usual route, I'm working up a sweat. I pull off my t-shirt and tuck it into the back of my shorts, grateful for the cooler air against my skin.

I take my usual route through town and up toward the older neighborhoods, but instead of turning back at my normal halfway point, I find myself jogging past Lila's street.

Just to see if everything looks okay, I tell myself. Make sure there weren't any overnight disasters with the plumbing or electrical. Or that she didn't burn the kitchen down trying to make breakfast. The thought makes me smile despite myself.

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