Page 80 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

“Now I like it. Because you’re in it.”

He didn’t say anything at first—just trailed his hands over my arms, then up to my shoulders, fingers kneading gently into the knots that had taken up permanent residence there.

“I had to save a sauce from being butchered by the intern today,” he murmured. “And then Mila made me taste ten different wine pairings because she couldn’t decide if Mrs. Whitmore would prefer Napa or Bordeaux. I’m still slightly buzzed.”

I chuckled, eyes closed, relaxing under his hands. “If it’s any consolation, I think she'll be too busy staring at you to taste the wine.”

His voice dropped lower, teasing. “Jealous, boss?”

“No,” I said calmly. “Because I get to take you home.”

He massaged deeper, and I melted under his touch.

And for a moment, as steam curled around us and water lapped softly against porcelain, I thought… maybe this was what healing looked like.

Messy. Unexpected. Beautiful.

And finally, not so lonely.

I woke up warm. Wrapped in cotton sheets and the scent of him.

The sunlight spilled through the window, soft and golden, and somewhere in the background I heard the comforting humof the coffee machine. The bed was empty beside me, but the air still carried the weight of Sebastian’s body, the bond between us humming like a soft, satisfied purr beneath my skin.

I stretched, yawned, then dragged myself out of bed, hair a mess and sleep still heavy in my bones. I shuffled toward the kitchen, rubbing my eyes—and there he was. Standing by the counter, shirtless, hair slightly damp, mug in hand.

“Morning, boss,” he said, without turning. His voice was low and full of sleep, with just the tiniest smirk woven through it. “Glad to see you're alive. You passed out mid-sentence last night. I was drying my hair, turned around, and poof—my mate abandoned me.”

I groaned, leaning against the doorframe. “Gods, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. The bath just melted my spine.”

Sebastian turned to me, handed me a steaming mug, and grinned. “So this is how it’s gonna be now that you’ve bonded me, huh? You take all the blankets, and leave me to go to bed with nothing but my right hand for company?”

I laughed and threw the nearest kitchen towel at his head. “You’re impossible.”

He caught it one-handed and tossed it back on the counter. Then stepped in, close, warm, kissed my forehead like it was second nature. “Good morning.”

I wrapped my fingers around the mug and exhaled slowly. “Thank you. For the coffee. I’m going to need it today.”

“Big day?”

I nodded. “Final Heaven’s Door meeting. We’re locking in the timeline, the transport, the set-up… and I still don’t trust that tent rental company. They sent us photos that looked like stock images from a wedding in Tuscany.”

He grinned, leaned against the counter, arms folded. “Want me to come with you? I can threaten them in French.”

I took a long sip of the coffee and let the heat chase away thelast of my sleep. Then looked at him over the rim of the cup and said, “No, don't worry. Plus, I need you to run the kitchen.”

“You sure,” he said, smile deepening, “I’m a charmer by nature.”

“Charmer by nature, disaster by profession,” I muttered.

But my heart felt full. Anchored.

He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. The kind of kiss that didn’t demand anything—just offered warmth, reassurance, and a reminder that I wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

“Stop stressing,” he murmured against my mouth, voice deep and low like a promise. “You’ve got this. You always do.”

My hands curled lightly into his T-shirt, fingers brushing over the steady beat of his heart.

“I know,” I whispered, more to myself than him. “I just…”

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