Page 72 of Down Knot Out
The elevator doors slide open at our approach, and Dominic ushers me inside first. I turn to face the reception area as he joins me.
As the doors begin to close, I catch a glimpse of Simon watching from the hallway, his thin face twisted with thwarted hunger as metal panels slide together, sealing us into blessed isolation.
My legs finally surrender, and I sag against Dominic’s chest, his arms wrapping around me in an instant. My forehead rests on his collarbone, the steady thump of his heart beneath my ear setting a rhythm for my own to follow.
“Take me home,” I whisper into his dress shirt. “I want to go home.”
His lips brush the top of my head. “Home it is.”
As the elevator descends, each floor takes us further from the Sinclair legacy and closer to the future I’m choosing for myself. One surrounded by people who see me as more than a bloodline or a means to an end.
One surrounded by people who truly love me.
Chapter Twenty
Nathaniel
The tablet warms beneath my hand as I scan the site, glare bouncing off the screen and catching the edge of my vision. Numbers and schedules scroll in neat columns of delivery windows, daily and weekly crew schedules, subcontractors, and inspectors.
All of it stacked in clean, rational lines. Everything’s where it should be. If only people were as dependable as spreadsheets.
Across the job site, workers swarm over the cabins, the rise and fall of hammers, the snap of nail guns, and the buzz of saws filling the air. The scent of pine mixes with the salt from the ocean, while sawdust clings to sweat-damp forearms, and boot prints trail through the site to mark the path of productivity.
An email pops up, and I read it, then return to my spreadsheet and adjust a delivery time to account for products arriving ahead of schedule. My body moves through the motions with practiced efficiency, but my mind drifts elsewhere, to the gentle hum that vibrated through the bond last night.
With the rest of my pack members asleep in their beds, it could only have been Dominic and Chloe. Whatever they were up to, it was strong enough to resonate across the water.
A smile tugs at my lips as I scroll through inventory lists. For once, everything feels aligned, not just the schedules on my screen, but the connections between my pack. The threads that had begun to tangle when Chloe came into our lives now pull taut, weaving us together the way we were meant to be.
The crunch of boots on gravel announces Emily’s approach before her crushed-clover and warm-flannel scent reaches me. My head lifts from my tablet as she stops beside me, tablet clutched in one hand, thermos in the other. Her chin-length silver hair catches the sunlight.
“Inventory’s accounted for.” She lifts her tablet. “Aside from what walked off last week, of course.”
I tuck my tablet under my arm. “Thanks forcoming in late. I know you prefer to be first on site.”
She shrugs, an easy roll of her broad shoulders. “Couldn’t send my guests off without breakfast.”
“Thank you for hosting them.” Gratitude warms my chest. “It was above and beyond.”
Emily takes a swig from her thermos, the scent of black coffee wafting between us. “Your Omega was pretty shaken.”
Her acknowledging Chloe asminesends a curl of satisfaction through me, but I keep my expression passive. “Simon really rattled her.”
“Yeah.” Emily caps her thermos and squints toward the job site. “She seemed even more rattled this morning, but Dominic was being tight-lipped about it.”
The question hangs unspoken, leaving it up to me if I want to share, but my bondmate hadn’t been any more forthcoming in the text he sent to the pack chat.
“Did she say anything?” I ask, curiosity slipping past my professional veneer.
“No.” Emily shakes her head. “But whatever has her rattled went beyond some stalker.”
A construction worker calls to her from across the site, holding up a circular saw with an expression of confused frustration. Emily lifts afinger in acknowledgment before turning back to me.
“Despite whatever else is going on,” she adds, “She and Dominic seemed closer.”
“Sometimes fear forces you to face what you really want.” The words come without thinking, a truth I’ve observed time and again in both business and pack dynamics.
Emily studies me. “That’s surprisingly insightful for someone who schedules his emotional availability in fifteen-minute blocks.”
