Page 54 of Hot Knot Summer
“Like being inside the storm itself,” he says, coming to stand beside me. “The lightning illuminates the entire valley. You can watch it roll in from miles away.”
“And during winter?”
“Even better. The silence after a snowfall is like nothing else.”
I turn to find him watching me rather than the view, his expression unreadable. We’re standing close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the now-familiar scent of woodsmoke,maple, and toasted sugar that clings to him. Something electric crackles in the space between us.
“It’s wonderful to have you here,” he says quietly. “I hope you’ll feel at home while you stay.”
“It would be hard not to,” I reply, surprised by the huskiness in my voice. “This place is magical.”
His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he might lean in. Instead, he takes a small step back, breaking whatever spell had momentarily enveloped us.
“I can see myself setting up here and writing,” I explain quickly, moving toward one of the comfortable chairs. “Best inspiration ever.”
“You’re welcome to use this space whenever you want,” he offers. “No one will disturb you up here.”
The silence that follows hits like a lightning strike, intense, electric, and awkward in a way our earlier banter wasn’t. It crackles between us, heavy with things neither of us is saying.
I drag in a breath, reminding myself again that as attractive as Atlas is, and God, he’s devastating in that quietly dangerous way that gets under your skin, getting involved with anyone right now would be catastrophically stupid.
My heart’s already broken. I don’t need to hand the shattered pieces to someone new, least of all someone who pretty much admitted we shouldn’t give in to our temptation.
His phone chirps, breaking the moment. He checks it and sighs.
“Duty calls,” he murmurs, returning the phone to his pocket. “River needs backup with the hiker rescue.”
“Go save lives,” I tell him with a smile I hope looks more confident than it feels. “I’ll be fine. I mean... how could I not be? I’m in this, you know, sky palace. Pretty sure the couch alone is fancier than my entire apartment.” I shut my mouth before I make it worse, heat creeping up my neck.
“Levi will show you to your room and help you get settled.” He hesitates, as if wanting to say more, then simply adds, “Make yourself at home, Emma. Really.”
I watch him descend the stairs, taking them two at a time so easily, it makes my earlier stumble even more embarrassing in retrospect. Only when he disappears from view do I let out a long exhale.
What am I doing here? In this beautiful tower, in this magical place, with these impossibly perfect Alphas? This isn’t my life. My life is tiny apartments and rejection letters and boyfriends who ruin my heart. Yet, here I stand, surrounded by breathtaking views and inexplicable kindness from strangers who owe me nothing.
I turn back to the panorama of mountains and forests, pressing my palm against the cool glass as if I could somehow absorb the serenity of the landscape. Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected detour is exactly what I need. A place to lick my wounds, finish my novel, and remember who Emma Collins is outside of Chad’s shadow.
And if that process happens to include occasionalmoments of electricity with ridiculously attractive Alphas? Well, I’m only human. Or rather, only Omega.
I hear footsteps on the stairs and straighten my shoulders. Time to catch up with Levi. Hopefully, I can manage not to fall down the tower or say something absurdly awkward.
But given my track record so far in Whispering Grove, I’m not betting on it.
10
EMMA
The door to the watchtower closes behind me with a soft click, leaving me alone in the main living area of what is apparently now my temporary home. The enormity of the space hits me all at once—this isn’t just a cabin, it’s practically a mansion disguised as rustic living.
“Damn,” I whisper to nobody, turning in a slow circle. “And I thought Chad’s two-bedroom apartment was fancy because it had a garbage disposal.” This cabin, though, is the kind of place people post on Instagram with captions like‘just a little weekend getaway’while the rest of us contemplate murder.
I run my fingers over the polished edge of a wooden side table, half-convinced I’ve stumbled into an alternate reality where firefighters moonlight as luxury real estate developers, when the creak of the floorboards comes from my left and nearly sends me jumping out of my skin.
“Like what you see?” Levi says.
I whirl around, clutching my chest. “Jesus! Shouldn’t you be wearing a bell or something? Or do they teach ninja-level sneaking at firefighter school?”
He’s against the doorframe of a hallway. And honestly? The sight of him does nothing to convince me I haven’t fallen into some parallel universe where men like this actually exist outside of romance novel covers.
