Page 47 of Knot on the Market

Then I head for the shower, already planning my day around the promise in those two words. Just you.

The hot water does nothing to ease the anticipation building under my skin. If anything, it makes it worse, gives me time to think about seeing her again, about working alongside Callum in her space, about what it means that she specifically wants me there.

About what it means that she's sleeping with my shirt.

Because that's what she's doing, I'm certain of it now. The way her scent spiked when she hid it behind her back, the guilty flush across her cheeks, she didn't just take it as a trophy. She took it because she wanted my scent in her space, wanted something that smelled like me close to her skin.

The thought makes my hands shake slightly as I reach for the shampoo.

I've never had an omega want my scent before. Never had someone steal my clothes because they needed that particular comfort. It's possessive and intimate in ways I'm not sure I'm ready for, but my alpha instincts don't care about my readiness. They care about the fact that Lila James chose my scent, chose to surround herself with the evidence of my presence.

Chose me, at least in this small way.

By the time I'm dressed and gathering supplies, extra thermos for her coffee, my tool belt to help Callum out, a couple of the cookies Aunt Maeve dropped off yesterday. I can feel my scent warming with anticipation. The kind of eager contentment that probably makes me smell like someone who's way too excited about spending his day off doing manual labor.

Levi appears as I'm loading everything into my truck, freshly showered and carrying what looks like car keys.

"Heading out?" I ask.

"Need to run some errands," he says casually. "What about you? Ready to go win over an omega who clearly has excellent taste in stolen shirts?"

I can't help but grin. "When you put it like that..."

"You've been grinning like an idiot since you woke up, and you keep touching your chest like you're thinking about something that makes your alpha instincts happy." Levi's smile is knowing but fond. "Plus, you smell like you're getting ready to do something important."

"I don't smell like anything."

"Dean. You smell like an alpha who knows exactly where his scent is being appreciated." Levi's expression turns more serious. "Just... be careful, okay? She's been through something. Don't rush her into anything she's not ready for."

The advice is gentle but pointed, and I nod because he's right. Whatever brought Lila to Honeyridge Falls, whatever she's running from or toward, she needs space to figure things out.The last thing I want to do is pressure her into something she's not ready for.

But that doesn't mean I can't be there when she's ready. Doesn't mean I can't show her what it looks like to have someone who genuinely cares about her comfort and happiness.

"I'm not rushing anything," I say, starting the engine. "I'm just... being available."

"Uh-huh. Being available." Levi grins. "Well, try not to get too territorial if Julian shows up too. Small town, remember? We all have to live here."

The mention of Julian sends a spike of something uncomfortable through my chest—not jealousy exactly, but awareness. Julian's been circling around Lila too, bringing books and paying attention in his own quiet way. And now Callum will be there, working on her house with his hands, being useful in ways that matter.

Three alphas, all drawn to the same omega. All wanting to be the one she turns to.

The thought should worry me. Should make me want to back off, maintain the careful distance that keeps small-town dynamics uncomplicated.

Instead, it makes me press the accelerator a little harder, eager to get to her house before anyone else has the chance to make her smile the way she smiled at me yesterday.

The drive to Lila's house takes eight minutes that feel like an hour. I've made this trip enough times now that I could do it with my eyes closed, but today every familiar turn feels charged with possibility. Today I'm not just helping a neighbor or delivering food from Aunt Maeve.

Today I'm answering a text that said "just you" like it meant something.

Her street is quiet in the morning sunlight, just the distant sound of someone mowing their lawn and the cheerful chatter ofbirds. Normal Sunday morning sounds that feel different when you're headed toward something important.

I can smell her house almost before I see it.

Not just the green apple and white musk that clings to her space, but something deeper. Something that speaks of comfort and contentment and home. The kind of scenting that happens when an omega has been spending time in a space, when she's been making it truly hers.

When she's been sleeping with a stolen shirt pressed against her skin.

I park behind Callum's familiar pickup and grab my supplies, noting the lumber already stacked and organized on her front lawn. He's been here early, probably since dawn, getting everything ready for a full day of construction. The sight of his truck should bother me more than it does, evidence that I'm not the only one eager to spend time in Lila's space.

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