Page 58 of Knot So Sweet
"Yeah." He looks at me then, and there's something raw in his expression. "Here we are. All three of us wanting the same omega who finally has the freedom to leave. And I can't... I won't take that freedom away by making her feel like she has to stay."
Jerry stumbles past, tray rattling, pupils blown wide. He's caught her scent, like the rest of us.
Garrick doesn't blink. Still locked on her through the pass window. Still trying to figure out how to let go of something he desperately wants to hold onto.
That line in his mouth, the set of his jaw says: mine.
But he won't let himself act on it.
"You're scared," I say, grabbing the saffron mushroom risotto to check the finish.
"I'm trying not to be like him. Her ex. I'm trying to give her the choice he never did." His voice is rough. "Even if it kills me."
"Maybe the choice isn't stay or go," I offer. "Maybe it's asking her what she wants instead of deciding for her."
Before Garrick can answer, the kitchen doors swing open and Violet steps in. Empty wineglass in one hand, her free one curled around her sweater hem.
There's a faint uncertainty in her posture that makes something in my chest shift.
She doesn't belong in a kitchen mid-rush, but she comes straight to me instead of flagging down a server. Like she wanted an excuse. Or maybe she saw Garrick and decided not to let him brood in peace.
"Sorry to interrupt," she says softly. "Could I get the check? I know you're slammed, and I don't want to hold the table when you've got people waiting."
She's not wrong. There's a couple at the bar practically willing someone to choke so they can get a seat.
Still, I don't want her gone.
"You're not holding up anything." I take the glass from her. Our fingers brush, warm and soft, enough to send a sharp flicker of awareness through me. "Corner table's yours as long as you want it. Perk of being my favorite marketing consultant."
"You don't have to..."
"Not a pickup line, it's the truth." I don't look away from her, even though I can feel Garrick cataloguing every word."This place is packed because of you. That's worth a permanent reservation."
"Xaden's right," a voice cuts in from behind her.
Meredith threads her way into the kitchen dressed in her Friday evening best. Navy blue dress with tiny flowers, usual pearl accessories. Her lavender and apricot scent carries notes of satisfaction.
"Meredith," I greet, polite, though my instincts sharpen. "What brings you here?"
"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Garrick says, but there's less bite than usual. More exhaustion.
"I wanted to let Violet know her work's been the talk of the town all month," Meredith says, brushing right past him.
Violet's cheeks flush. Her scent sweetens like honey in hot tea and it's distracting as hell.
"I'm hardly famous," she says.
The pasta timer goes off behind me.
"Chef!" one of the line cooks barks.
I pivot back into motion, plating fast, steam curling up around my face.
"You realize half this town's here tonight because of you," I say before Meredith can continue.
Meredith nods. "The bakery, the restaurant, Tom's garage, even that boutique on Main. Everyone's seeing a boost because of your articles."
I swipe the sauce brush along the plate's edge.
