Page 21 of Trick Knot Treat

The house is quite large and open-plan with a wrap-around porch and lots of native wattle trees that bring all the birds to town. It’s got four bedrooms and a massive shed where I get most of my work done. I’ve owned it for a few years now and fixing it up has been one of my greatest pleasures.

I am so damn proud of this house. I used to share it with Holly, it’s half empty now and much messier than it normally is.

I sit on the couch, staring at the family portrait that’s hanging on the wall where Dad put it. I hate it. Jace and I look nothing like ourselves.

I look at the kitchen and the prospect of eating another frozen meal for dinner. I snatch up my keys and head back into Sunshine Cove.

Tonight, I don’t want to be alone.

Chapter 6

Khione

The food is glorious, but it always is. I’m a major foodie, and trying all the menu recipes has become one of my favourite things. Because sadly, my one true weakness in life is that I can’t cook. So, four times a week, I come to the Be Seaing You restaurant, hide in the back, and watch Franco Sol and Elijah Hart create magic and put it on a plate.

I lift my fork to my lips and pause, inhaling the garlic and cheese fumes before I put it in my mouth and simply die. So damn good.

“The pleasure you’re getting from that food is indecent, but now I want to try it.”

I squeak and open my eyes only to find Clint pulling out a wooden chair and sitting opposite me. In all the time I've been in town, no one has joined me for a meal. It’s always just been me.

This is strange and unnerving. How am I supposed to eat when I don’t even think I’m going to be able to swallow?

Clint’s blue-grey eyes look even warmer in the dim lighting of the restaurant. His hair is darker than normal and glossy. He’s folded the sleeves of his flannel shirt up, exposing his forearms and huge hands.

Large, capable hands. Oh, my.

I lift my eyes to his face, boyish, charming, with that lazy smile and a bit of daily growth on his chin, and the obvious tells that he will age like a fine wine. I can see him with a pack and a dozen children. He would be the kind of father all people dream of having for their children.

Engaging, fun, the person who builds a home and makes it the heart of the family.

I get this absolutely obscene image of me kneeling in front of him and undoing his belt, leaning in to inhale his alpha musk. I gasp, tearing myself out of the fantasy, to find him watching me curiously. My cheeks burn, to be fair, I think my entire body is one iota from bursting into flames.

“Clint, you’re here,” Franco says loud enough to startle me.

I really hope he can’t read thoughts.

“Food. Feed me.”

If he didn’t say it with such easy charm, I think people would be offended, but it’s Clint and his innate lazy, Australian charisma, and that cheeky smile works on everyone, including, it seems, Franco Sol. The older alpha smiles, his eyes twinkle, and he studies Clint with fondness.

He only glances at me in passing, but that’s okay. I’m used to it. While they are doing their staring at each other thing, I pick up the fork and take another bite, not letting myself make any vocal sounds this time. To my surprise, Clint keeps one eye on me, watching every move I make.

“I hear you are matched with my son.”

“I am. Poor lad,” Clint teases and winks.

“You’ll be gentle with him?”

“Me?” Clint chuckles. “Gentle is my middle name.”

Franco sets a menu down. “Sure. Sure. Be nice to him, he’s a bit flighty. What are you eating?”

Clint turns to me. “What should I eat?”

I freeze, then squirm as I look down at the plate. “The pizza is great, so is the steak, and, um…”

Clint is staring at me, he hasn’t looked away, and he’s smiling, and my brain just steps off a cliff and sends me spiraling through pink fluffy clouds of happiness because he’s here, looking at me.