Page 30 of Knot Your Sugar

Ironically, I realize with wry amusement, part of that responsibility apparently includes sponsoring the woman I can't stop thinking about as she enjoys an evening of relaxation with another alpha. Without me.

They'll undoubtedly fondle each other in those hot springs. The universe, it seems, has a penchant for irony. And I, apparently, have a penchant for sponsoring my own romantic frustrations. I want to fondletoo. Maybe I should invite myself…

"Mr. Beaumont?"

Chef Parker approaches, leather portfolio in hand. The slight deference in his voice yanks me back to reality.

"William," I respond, straightening automatically as the familiar mantle of CEO settles across my shoulders. "Are the final scores for the first two days tallied and confirmed?"

"They sure are. Just finished." He flips open the portfolio, revealing neat columns of meticulously recorded numbers. "As you can see, Elena Avery and James Reynolds are way ahead of everyone else."

"They earned it." My voice remains even, stripped of any emotion I might be feeling. "They have exceptional talent."

"I completely agree." He clears his throat, a precursor to a shift in topic. "There was one other matter I wanted to discuss. The Beaumont Foundation's official donation to the children's hospital…"

Just like that, we're thrust back into serious business. My name, my company, my endless responsibilities. This is my world. This is who I am.

And none of it belongs with what happened under that oak tree. With a baker whose scent I still can’t get out of my head. A woman who makes me forget the crushing weight of expectations I’ve shouldered since birth.

Funny thing, though. When she passed the judges’ table earlier today, I could’ve sworn her scent was much fainter than it was last night. Which is… odd, now that I think about it.

"...would that work with your schedule, Mr. Beaumont?"

I blink. "My apologies, William. Could you repeat that?"

"The press call at the children's hospital tomorrow, Mr. Beaumont. The committee felt your presence, as the festival's primary sponsor, would really elevate the event's profile."

"Of course." My reply comes automatically. "My schedule remains at the festival's disposal for the next few days."

He nods with visible relief, continuing to outline logistical details. I listen with half my attention, the other half still tuned to Elena.

I cannot allow what happened between us to evolve beyond what it was; a moment. A beautiful yet reckless moment of connection. I cannot weave it into the complex, demanding tapestry of my actual life. It's fantasy, a pleasant interlude, nothing more.

I have responsibilities extending far beyond this charming small town. I cannot afford emotional indulgences that might compromise my judgment or obligations.

Besides, my world would likely tarnish the very qualities I find so alluring in Elena. Everything carries a price. The cost of bringing her into my orbit might well be the dimming of her unique, vibrant light. I wouldn't do that to her. Icouldn't.

Better to remain grounded in reality. I'm in Lakeview for a few more days. I will continue judging fairly. I will fulfill my professional obligations with expected diligence. Then I'll return to my life and she'll continue with hers. Maybe eventually with someone else… like James.

Chapter seventeen

Elena

We purr to a stop before an establishment that doesn’t so much whisper luxury as sing it in a rich opera voice.

'Lakeview Hot Springs Spa' is nestled into the mountainside, a stunning blend of natural stone, warm cedar, and vast expanses of glass that seems to invite the breathtaking scenery right inside. Intricate infinity pools cascade down the slope like liquid terraces, their water gurgling melodically, and the air smells faintly of pine, lavender, and money. Lots and lots of money.

"Wow," I breathe, stepping out of the car onto a cobblestone pathway. "I never imagined I'd ever come here… especially not as a challenge reward."

James, stepping out from the other side, gives a low whistle. "Beaumont certainly didn't skimp on the pampering part, did he?" He looks around, a genuinely impressed glint in his eyes."Place looks like it costs more for an hour than my first car." And I'm sure it does.

A smiling attendant in a crisp linen uniform greets us, her voice a soothing balm. "Welcome, Mr. Reynolds, Ms. Avery. I'm Serena. Please come in."

The interior is even more stunning. A soaring glass reception area brings the outside in through floor-to-ceiling windows, framing the mountains and Lake Vienne while a massive stone fireplace crackles in the center. Everywhere I look is polished wood, natural stone, and wall fountains, their gentle trickle filling the space with a constant hush of water.

"We expect you to be the only guests this evening," the woman says, leading us down a hallway lined with ambient lighting reflecting through the water features. "Your robes and swimwear options are in the changing areas." She gestures to two doors marked with elegant wooden symbols (a stylised mountain for men, a graceful swan for women). "We prepared a variety of sizes and styles to ensure your comfort."

James shoots me a grin. "See you on the other side."

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