Page 84 of Knot in Bloom
Just Reid and Sadie, working side by side, building something real from the ashes of my beautiful, ridiculous lies.
Chapter 23
Sadie
Friday morning, six AM, and I’m standing in my bathroom staring at an empty suppressant bottle like it might magically refill itself.
The bottle that should have lasted another week is completely empty because I’ve been downing them like candy. Three a day instead of one—so much for rationing— trying to manage the chaos my body becomes every time I’m around Levi, Caleb, and Reid together.
But I can’t think about that now. Festival setup starts in two hours.
I splash cold water on my face, gasping as the simple touch makes my skin sing with sensitivity. There’s this low hum of arousal that’s been building for days, like background music I can’t turn off. My reflection shows flushed cheeks and bright eyes that betray exactly how affected I am.
One more day. Get through festival setup, prove I can handle this opportunity, then deal with whatever’s happening to my traitorous biology.
I throw on yesterday’s jeans and the first sweater I can find, then hurry downstairs to my shop. The early morning deliverytrucks have already been and gone, leaving my space looking like a botanical explosion. Buckets of fresh flowers crowd every surface—roses, chrysanthemums, eucalyptus, and a dozen other varieties that usually soothe me but now seem to amplify every sensation until I’m dizzy with it.
My phone buzzes with volunteer confirmations. River and Dean handling main street decorations. Lila coordinating vendor booths despite being twenty weeks pregnant. Half the town showing up to transform Honeyridge Falls into something magazine-worthy.
The bell chimes and my three alphas walk through the door like they planned it. Which they probably did. They’ve developed this seamless coordination that would be sweet if it wasn’t so obviously about managing me.
“Morning, beautiful,” Reid says, carrying coffee and pastries. His bergamot scent hits me like a warm wave, and I grip the counter to stay upright.
“Volunteers arrive in two hours,” Caleb reports, consulting his clipboard with the same focused efficiency he brings to everything. His sandalwood warmth wraps around me from across the room, making my knees wobble.
“Extra ribbon, just in case,” Levi adds, holding up supplies. His cedar and rain scent completes the triangle, and suddenly I’m drowning in alpha pheromones that smell like home and safety and everything I want to wrap myself in.
Heat pools between my thighs. My nipples tighten against my bra. Every breath floods my system with their combined presence until I’m practically purring with contentment despite my racing heart.
“Thank you,” I manage, surprisingly steady. “Let’s get organized before the chaos starts.”
For the next hour, we work in perfect harmony. They know my systems now, anticipate what I need, move around eachother in my small space like they’ve been doing this for years. But every casual touch sets me on fire. When Reid’s fingers brush mine passing supplies, I have to bite my lip to stop from gasping. When Caleb reaches over me to secure something high, his chest nearly grazes my back and I go liquid. When Levi steadies me on the stepladder, his hands at my waist feel like brands.
By eight o’clock, when volunteers start trickling in, I’m wound tighter than piano wire.
“Ready to make this town Instagram famous?” River grins, bursting through the door with his usual enthusiasm.
Dean follows more quietly, his attention immediately going to the work stations we’ve set up. “Where do you need us?”
“Lila’s coordinating vendor booth assignments from the festival grounds,” I explain, checking my lists. “You two are on main street garlands—every lamp post from the hardware store to the coffee shop.”
“Got it,” Dean nods, already reaching for supplies. “Lila said she’d meet us there in twenty minutes.”
As they head out with their arms full of greenery and ribbon, more volunteers arrive. Mrs. Patterson from the post office. Tommy Clanton and his wife. Three teenagers from the high school who need community service hours. The energy builds as everyone gets their assignments and spreads out across town.
That’s when Lila appears in my doorway, moving more carefully now with her rounded belly obvious under her loose sweater. At twenty weeks, she’s absolutely glowing with that pregnancy radiance that makes my chest ache with want I don’t dare examine.
“Sadie!” She crosses to hug me, her scent warm and maternal with the distinctive sweetness of a pregnant omega. “This is so exciting. The whole town’s buzzing about today.”
“Just trying not to mess it up,” I laugh, though the sound comes out slightly strained.
“You won’t mess up. You’re amazing at this.” She surveys the organized chaos of my shop with approval. “What can I help with before I head to the festival grounds?”
We work together for the next few minutes, double-checking centerpiece assignments and making sure each vendor booth has everything they need. It’s comfortable, familiar work that usually calms my nerves.
Then it happens.
“Oh!” Lila gasps suddenly, hand flying to her belly. “Sadie, feel this!”
