Page 78 of Down Knot Out
I approach him first, concerned by the vulnerable set of his mouth. When I rise on my toes to brush my lips over his, the bitter vanilla of his worry fills my senses. His hands hover at my waist without quite touching, as if he’s afraid of getting me dirty.
“I missed you,” I whisper to him.
He tilts his head toward mine, breath catching. “Missed you, too.”
Blake steps forward next, Quinn still clinging to his hand. His kiss tastes of cider and home. His free arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close until the steady rhythm of his heartbeat reaches me.
I turn to Nathaniel, who I already greeted at the docks. He waits with characteristic patience, though I catch the way his fingers drum once on his thigh. When I reach him, his palm cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my makeup with a gentle sweep. His kiss is controlled but heated, a promise of deeper conversation to come.
“Welcome home,” he murmurs, his leather-and-clove scent wrapping around me.
“Don’t forget to buy those heels,” I whisper, smiling.
Last but not least, I turn to Dominic, who’s been watching with growing amusement. The moment I step within reach, he sweeps me off my feet, tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Dominic!” I squeal, grabbing fistfuls of his suit jacket to steady myself. “Put me down!”
Quinn dissolves into giggles at the sight, her earlier uncertainty forgotten.
“My damsel’s feet hurt, and we both need to getout of this armor,” Dominic announces to the group, patting my thigh where it rests over his shoulder. “Before we forget who we are underneath all this corporate nonsense.”
“No playing on the stairs,” Nathaniel calls as Dominic heads for the front door. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”
“Hey, Grady!” I call to my bestie as we pass him coming out of the back hall.
“A-afternoon, Chloe,” he calls back, waving the book in his hand.
“Come on, princess!” Dominic calls to Quinn as he sets me down at the foot of the stairs, but keeps hold of my hand. “If you want to help with Aunt Chloe’s hair, now is the time!”
His fingers intertwine with mine, warm and callused from drafting with a pencil.
He takes the small purse from me and passes it and the letter folder to Nathaniel. Then we head upstairs, Quinn scrambling up ahead of us.
At my bedroom door, Dominic turns to me, his hands rising to cradle either side of my neck. His thumbs brush along my jawline, and the kiss he gives me is slow, sure, and achingly tender.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on mine. “Go get comfortable. I’ll wait for you.”
“Wait for me!” Quinn plunks down outside myroom to tug off her sneakers with both hands before she follows me inside.
I close the door behind us and draw in a deep breath filled with the scents of my pack.
No courtroom. No Sinclair offices. Just home.
“Why don’t I sit at my desk while you help me with the pins?” I suggest.
“Okay!” She follows to stand behind me.
I guide her hands to the base of my neck. “There’s a pin right here. Be gentle, okay? These things have been trying to kill me all day.”
She giggles and begins working, tiny fingers combing through stiff, hair-sprayed strands. Each pin she frees clinks onto my desk, and one by one, the tightness releases until my scalp can breathe again.
“You’re pretty when you dress up,” Quinn says after a while. “But I like how you usually look better.”
I look at our reflection, her small hands still in my pink waves. “Me, too, princess. All the makeup and fancy hair were for pretending. This is who I really am.”
When the last pin drops onto my desk, I shake my hair out and sigh with relief.
“Do you want to help me pick out my new outfit?” I ask.
