Page 66 of Knot in Bloom
“This is a beautiful neighborhood. All these old trees.”
“Wait until you see the house.”
I park in front of the cottage and watch her face as she takes it in. The wide porch, the mature oak trees, the garden space that’s wild but full of possibility. The wonder in her expression makes my chest tight and my cock throb with the need to make her mine.
“Caleb.” Wonder in her voice that goes straight to my groin. “It’s gorgeous. Like something from a storybook.”
“Want to look around?”
The front windows are tall enough to peer through, and we can see gleaming hardwood floors that catch the late afternoon light. The place looks immaculate, recently updated but maintaining its character.
“We can’t just look in someone’s windows,” Sadie protests, but she’s already moving toward the front porch.
“There’s a for-sale sign. We’re potential buyers checking out the exterior.”
She laughs, the sound making something primal stir in my chest. “That’s not how it works.”
“Sure it is.” I boost myself up to get a better view through the living room window. “Come look. You can see the kitchen from here.”
What I don’t tell her is I spoke to the realtor earlier, she told me no one is living here and we are welcome to walk around the outside of house today.
Sadie hesitates for a moment, then joins me at the window. Our shoulders brush as we peer inside together, and the contact sends heat racing through me. Her honeysuckle scent wraps around us both, and I have to grip the window ledge to keep from pulling her closer.
“Oh,” she breathes, and the sound goes straight to my cock. “It’s beautiful. Look at that kitchen.”
I try to focus on the house, but all I can think about is how she’d look in that kitchen. Hair falling around her shoulders asshe makes coffee in the morning. The domestic fantasy mixing with something much more primal.
We walk around the cottage together, peering through windows like a couple of kids exploring somewhere we’re not supposed to be. But there’s nothing innocent about the way I’m hyperaware of every move she makes. She points out details I hadn’t noticed—the way the afternoon light would hit that kitchen window, how the built-in window seat in the living room would be perfect for reading.
Every time she gets excited about something, she touches my arm without thinking. Brief contact that leaves heat trailing in its wake and makes my cock throb with want. Her scent grows richer each time, like her omega biology is responding to my proximity, and it’s taking everything I have not to press her against the side of the house and kiss her senseless.
“The garden’s in great shape too,” she says, examining the well-maintained flowerbeds. “Someone really loved this place. Look at the way they’ve maintained the layout. Roses along that fence line, herb garden by the kitchen. Everything’s ready to go.”
When she bends to examine a flower more closely, I catch a glimpse of soft skin at her lower back where her shirt rides up. My hands ache to touch that spot, to trace the curve of her spine.
“What would you plant?” The question comes out rougher than I meant it to.
She considers seriously, hands gesturing as she talks, and I’m mesmerized by the graceful movement. “Maybe expand the cutting garden for arrangements. Add some bee-friendly flowers along the front walk.” Her eyes brighten as she looks at me. “This place could be incredible with just a little personal touch.”
The way she looks at me when she says it makes blood rush south. Like she’s picturing us here together, building something real.
“You think so?”
“I know so.” She turns to face me fully, and something shifts in the air between us. More charged. “Caleb, this is perfect. Not just the house, but the feeling of it. Like it’s been waiting for the right people to bring it back to life.”
The right people. Plural.
The way she says it so naturally makes warmth spread through my chest and heat pool in my groin. Like she’s not just being polite about my plans.
“Want to see what we can make out from the upstairs windows?”
We circle around to the back of the house where a trellis gives us a boost to peek through the second-floor windows. She’s laughing as I help steady her, my hands at her waist, both of us feeling ridiculous but not caring.
When she wobbles slightly, I pull her closer to steady her, and suddenly we’re pressed together, her back against my chest. Her laughter fades as she becomes aware of how we’re positioned. My cock is hard against her lower back, and her scent spikes with something that makes every alpha instinct I have roar to life.
“Four or five bedrooms up here,” she observes, voice slightly breathless. “And look at the size of that master bedroom. You could fit a king-size bed in there easy. And is that...” She squints through the window. “It looks like there’s a room with built-in shelving and cushioned seating. Like a nesting room.”
The mention of a nesting room makes something possessive unfurl in my chest. My omega, in a space designed for her comfort and safety. The fantasy hits me so hard I have to fight not to grind against her.
