Page 59 of Down Knot Out
She places it in front of me, the heat of it rising in a savory cloud of butter, chives, and melted cheese.
“Eat before it gets cold.” She turns back to crack more eggs into the pan.
The first bite melts on my tongue, fluffy egg, sharp cheddar, and a hint of dill. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it.
Dominic chuckles, sliding a cinnamon roll onto my plate. Icing drips down its spiraled sides, pooling in sticky puddles on the ceramic. “Never let Holden hear you making those indecent noises over someone else’s cooking.”
Heat rushes to my face, and I kick him under the table, but his leg shifts away, dodging my foot. My cheeks flush warmer. “I still prefer Holden’s cooking.”
“Mmm-hmm.” His fingers brush a strand of wet hair from my cheek, the contact brief but electrifying. “Keep digging that hole.”
Emily brings her own plate to the table and drops into a chair with surprising grace. “Taxi’s running again. Kyle texted first thing this morning. I’ll be heading back to the job site after I run some errands in town.”
“Did he say what the problem was?” Dominic asks.
Emily shakes her head. “No, you’ll have to ask him about it. Timing’s not ideal, though, what with everything else going on.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, and I frown, not sure what they’re talking about.
Emily gestures to my half-empty plate. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“It’s really good.” I lick frosting from my lips “The omelet, the cinnamon rolls, everything.” My fork gestures toward the kitchen at large. “And your home. I’ve never stayed anywhere so comfortable.”
Emily’s expression shifts, the tension in her features softening, and her shoulders relax. She sets down her coffee mug, her hands curling around the ceramic to draw warmth from it. “It’s been nice having some life in the house again.”
The simple statement hangs in the air. I think of the black cat in the photograph, the empty rooms designed for a nonexistent family, and the handcrafted furniture built with love and care, but with no one here to appreciate it.
We finish eating in silence, then Emily stands and gathers our empty plates. “What are your plans for today?”
“We need to do some clothes shopping,” Dominic says.
Confusion creases my brow. “We do?”
“We do.” He says firmly. “What we have isn’t up to snuff for where we’re going later.”
“Oh.” I peer down at my oversized T-shirt and loose jeans. Comfortable, sure, but they’ll stand out in the polished halls of Sinclair & Associates. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
The reminder brings down the happiness brought on by our cozy breakfast. The scent of cinnamon and eggs, the way Dominic teases me while Emily quietly made enough food for everyone without being asked… It’s everything my childhood wasn’t. No harsh voices, no sugar-coated manipulation, no passive-aggressive silence. Just quiet care.
I don’t want to lose this.
Emily turns from the sink, drying her hands on a dish towel with embroidered chickens. “You two can head out whenever you need to. Don’t worry about cleaning up or anything.”
Dominic stands and helps me from my seat. “Thank you, Emily. For everything.”
“Least I could do.” She waves away his gratitude with a flick of the towel as she turns to me. “You take care of yourself, hear? You have your hands full with this one and his pack.”
Warmth spreads through me. “I will.”
Dominic’s fingers tighten around mine. “We’ll take care of each other.”
The doors of the high-end clothing store glide open, revealing polished wood and minimalistclothing displays. Soft lighting and hushed voices fill the open space.
A sharply dressed stylist greets us with a tablet in one hand. “Ms. Richardson. Mr. Sterling. We’ve prepared a selection based on the specifications you submitted.”
I blink. Dominic submitted specs?
She gestures toward a private suite, all velvet panels and gold trim, as pristine as a jewelry box. “Your fitting salon is just through here. Shall I send in champagne?”
