Page 98 of Down Knot Out
Chloe traces the outline of the wood, touching each letter before she pulls Quinn in for a tight squeeze. “You did a wonderful job. Thank you so much.”
Quinn buries her face in Chloe’s neck. “Are you happy?”
"I am." Chloe blinks back tears as she steps away to touch the enormous recliner.
Dominic crosses to where I stand, the loose braid in his hair coming undone. “Reckon she likes it?”
“Shush.” I elbow him. “No need to sayI told you so.”
He turns to Nathaniel. “Did I say that?”
Nathaniel reaches out and runs his hand up the back of Dominic’s braid, undoing it further. “No one needs a smart ass.”
He dances away. “Hey!”
Chloe tucks Quinn to her side and wipes at her eyes before she extends her free hand toward Nathaniel. When he takes it, she tugs him into the hug, and she gestures for the rest of us to join her. Everyone else crowds around them in a giant hug pile.
Quinn squeals as she’s squished into the center, and my heart lurches. If things go wrong, she won’t just lose a home this time. She’ll lose a family.
“Get in here, Blake.” Chloe’s laughter cuts through my worrying. “No skipping out on pack hugs! That’s the rule!”
I step forward, wrapping my arms around all of them and squeeze tight, ignoring the good-natured groans of protest that rise.
I’ll do whatever I can to hold this pack together.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chloe
The parchment paper crinkles beneath my fingers as I smooth it around the final roast beef sandwich. Holden works beside me, putting together containers filled with sliced apples and strawberries, which he arranges into the wicker basket sitting on the counter.
Steam still rises from the last batch of lemon muffins cooling on the wire rack, their citrus scent mingling with the lingering aroma of fresh bread. He hums under his breath, a tuneless melody that vibrates through the comfortable silence between us.
“This doesn't need to be perfect.” I watch him fold napkins into triangles before tucking them into the basket’s corners. “It’s just lunch for the construction crew.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “There’s no such thing as ‘just lunch’ when it comes from this kitchen.”
Warmth spreads through me at his quiet conviction. Everything Holden touches becomes an act of care. Even his sandwiches, wrapped in parchment, are small gifts.
As I reach for the thermos of iced tea, our shoulders brush, and the contact sends a familiar tingle through me, the bond between us humming.
Holden pauses, leaning into the touch, his temple resting against mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For all of this. For taking care of everyone.”
His breathing hitches. “It’s what I’m good at.”
“It’s what you’re perfect at.” I cup his cheek, tracing the faint freckles scattered across his skin. “And we’re lucky to have you.”
Before he can respond, the kitchen door bursts open hard enough to rattle the hinges. Quinn barrels in, a pink-and-white tornado with curls flying wild around her face, clear evidence of a morning spent rolling on her bedroom floor.
“Are you ready? Are you ready?” She bounces on her toes, hands clasped behind her back. “Uncle Blake said you were bringing lunch, and I could help carry things!”
Holden straightens, reaching out to smooth down her flyaway hair with gentle fingers.
“Almost ready, princess.” I lift the basket from the counter, testing its weight on my hip. The wicker handle digs into my palm, but it’s manageable. “Are you sure you want to walk all the way to the construction site?”
Her face scrunches with indignation. “I’m not a baby! I can walk anywhere!”
