Page 103 of Knot Baked Out For This
"Nothing!" They flee like the cowards they are, leaving me alone with construction sounds and complicated feelings.
I shower, dress in work clothes that can handle dust, and head downstairs to survey my kingdom under renovation.
It's chaos. Beautiful, purposeful chaos. Workers who nod respectfully and check with me about decisions. Levi is explaining the new layout with infectious enthusiasm. Luca is documenting everything with typical precision. Rowan directstraffic with the easy authority that makes everyone want to follow him.
"Hey, boss!" Jenkins appears from behind a wall of plastic. "Where do you want the coffee station?"
Boss. I'm the boss. This is mine, even with their help.
"Corner by the window," I say, surprising myself with the certainty. "Customers can watch the baristas work."
"Good choice," Rowan murmurs as he passes. "Natural light, efficient flow."
"I know my business."
"Yes," he agrees, and there's pride in his voice. "You do."
By noon, I've made forty-seven sandwiches, two pots of soup, and enough cookies to feed an army. The crew devours everything with gratitude that makes me tear up again.
"Best worksite food ever," someone declares through a mouthful of cookie.
"Worth the early morning," another agrees.
I watch my three Alphas—when did they become mine?—working alongside the crew. Levi charms everyone into working harder. Luca catches problems before they become disasters. Rowan is making sure everything exceeds code by miles.
Building something. Not tearing down.
"You okay?" Levi appears at my elbow, paint in his hair, and a smile that could power cities.
"Getting there," I say honestly.
"Good enough for now," he says, stealing a cookie. "But someday, I want to see you actually believe you deserve this."
"Working on it."
"We've got time." He winks. "Seventy-three thousand dollars worth of time."
"I'm paying you back!"
"Sure you are, sunshine. Sure you are."
He dances away before I can throw something at him, laughter echoing through my under-construction bakery.
Three Alphas. One massive renovation. Zero idea how I got this lucky.
Lucky isn't the right word.
Maybe it's what love looks like when it's not trying to control.
Or it could be just a typical Monday, and I have seventy-three thousand dollars worth of sandwiches to make.
CHAPTER 18
First Pack Dinner
~ROWAN~
Pack dinner. She called it a pack dinner. Like we're something real, permanent, and worth feeding.
