Page 26 of Knot Their Girl
“How much land do you have?” I ask.
“Thirty acres. I wanted something secluded.”
Damn. Secluded this definitely is.
He pulls us up to the garage, and after he hits the button on his vizor, the garage door opens and we drive in. He parks the SUV and turns it off, and after I undo my seatbelt and hop out, I head to the back of the car to grab a suitcase, but Gideon stops me.
“Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll bring everything up after I show you around.” His dark blue eyes appear even darker in the dim garage lighting, and though he stands three feet away from me, it’s like he’s on top of me—and because of that, I feel as if I can hardly breathe.
Man, that’s a weird sensation, isn’t it?
“Lead the way, then,” I say, swallowing hard as I look away from him.
Gideon doesn’t say anything. He takes the lead, bringing me into a hall that eventually let out into the kitchen—a kitchen whose last remodel was probably fifteen or twenty years ago, based on all the tan colors.
The house is pretty straightforward. Kitchen, dining room that never gets used, a living room, a seating room, and a small library room all take up the first floor, along with a half-bath.The second floor contains Gideon’s bedroom, along with mine and what will be my bodyguard’s. There is only one bathroom—the house is definitely smaller than my parents’ house, because at least I had my own. It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.
We spend a longer amount of time in the room that is now mine. The walls had been painted a light, bubblegum pink, and the sheets on the bed are a bright neon color, along with the pillows. You’d think it’d clash with the walls, but it actually goes together pretty nicely.
It’s a lot of pink.
“Wow,” I say, glancing all around. The room is about half the size of the one I’m used to, but at least it has a TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed. No walk-in closet, but a tall, large dresser and a short dresser instead. “You understood the assignment.”
“You said you liked pink, so…” Gideon shrugs his shoulders once, standing at the doorway, as if he can’t come deeper into the room. “If something isn’t to your liking, or if there’s something I missed, I can order it for you.”
“No, it’s fine. Missing my favorite pillow, but once all my stuff is up here, that can be easily fixed.” I flash Gideon a wide grin, hoping to relax him, but he only ends up rubbing the back of his neck and averting his eyes from me.
Is he… nervous about me moving in? He shouldn’t be. This was his idea to begin with, not mine. I’m only here because of him trying to set me up with his nephew.
“Where’s Colter?” I ask, slow to walk across the room and stand closer to him. I hold my hands behind my back, studying the way he leans away from me.
“His room and his studio are on the top floor. He has his own bathroom up there, too. He hardly ever comes down. I told him you were moving in. He doesn’t, uh, know yet that you’re not moving in for me.”
“You mean you didn’t tell him you’re setting him up with a beautiful omega?” I dramatically flip my hair over my shoulder and act like I’m the prissiest bitch around—although in this house, I guess Iamthe prissiest, but only on a de facto basis.
Gideon laughs, but it’s an awkward, stilted laugh. “Um, no. I didn’t.”
I don’t miss it, though. “So that means you think I’m beautiful?” Don’t ask me why I said that; I won’t have an answer for you.
“Um,” he says again, and I swear I see his cheeks flush a bit. He lifts a finger and tilts his head, like he’s hearing something. “I think I…” Then he turns around and walks away before he finishes, “Hear… the… door.”
Wow. Somehow, I don’t think I need to worry about that particular alpha trying anything with me. If I so much as give him a sultry look, that guy’s liable to turn into straight goo. It’s kind of sweet.
Also kind of funny.
I step out into the hall and turn my head, watching him hurry away. Whether or not he really did hear the door is beyond me; I didn’t hear a damn thing, but I’ll let him have his escape. I shouldn’t have asked that question to begin with, but I couldn’t help myself. It just slipped out. My inner omega wanted to know if he thinks I’m beautiful.
Once he’s out of my sight, I push away from my new room and head to the stairwell. Instead of following after him, however, I decide to venture up. I’m curious about Colter, what can I say? I don’t want to wait to meet him. Let’s get the initial awkward meeting over with now.
I head up to the third floor of the house, making no noise at all, step after step. When I reach the third floor, I pass a bedroom, then a closed door—maybe the bathroom? And then I walk past what must be a paint studio. I step inside that room.Every room up here seems to have tall ceilings, which makes them feel huge, and also simultaneously empty.
My feet bring me to the easel in the center of the room. A stool sits before it, along with a small table where a palette of colors are, half-used, along with multiple cups of diminishingly not-so-clean water with paintbrushes submerged in them.
Chaos. Absolute chaos.
And I love it.
I step closer to the canvas itself, studying what’s on it. A painting of a landscape, with trees and grass. The point of view is as if you’re looking out of a window when you stare into the canvas, and I realize it’s because the design on it is exactly what you see when you gaze out of the window a few feet away, at the expansive yard and the forest that begins not too far away from the house.
