Page 82 of Knot So Sweet
It's going to be the best performance of my life.
Life isn't just good - it's perfect. And it's only going to get better.
20
XADEN
Ipush through the door of Mairi Veterinary Services, the bell overhead jangling against the frame. The afternoon sun slants through the blinds, cutting stripes across examination tables and metal cabinets. Antiseptic burns my nostrils. I hate this scent. Too clean, too sterile, nothing like the warm bite of garlic or the buttery sweetness that lingers in my restaurant.
Liam's got his back to me, reorganizing supplies on the far counter. Bottles click together as he moves them from one shelf to another. His shoulders are bunched tight, hands moving too fast. Something's eating at him.
"Emergency pack meeting?" I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "This better be good."
He glances over his shoulder. "Garrick's not here yet."
"Then start talking while we wait." I push off and walk to the nearest examination table, running my hand along the cold metal surface. "What's got you rearranging the same shelf three times?"
Liam sets down a bottle of antiseptic harder than necessary. "It's about Violet."
The door slams open before I can respond. Garrick fills the frame, flour dusting his jeans and coating his forearms up to the elbows. His flannel shirt's untucked, hair sticking up like he's been running his hands through it all morning. But his jaw isn't clenched the way it usually is. His shoulders sit lower, looser.
"Make it quick." He strides in, the door swinging shut behind him. "I've got three hundred croissants to finish before dinner service."
I study his face as he drops into one of the metal folding chairs. The legs scrape against the tile with a sharp screech. "You look different."
"Tired." He stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. "Been up since four."
"That's not what I meant." I move away from the table, circling around to get a better look at him. "You're not wound tight as a spring for once."
Liam abandons the counter and walks over, wiping his hands on his lab coat even though they're clean. "How's Violet doing? After last night?"
Garrick's expression shifts. Something soft bleeds through the usual gruffness. "She's fine. Hungover, but fine."
I stop pacing and lean against the wall beside the window, arms still crossed. The afternoon sun warms my back through the glass. "You went to check on her this morning."
It's not a question.
"Yeah." Garrick runs both hands through his hair, more flour drifting down to his shoulders. "Made her breakfast. Stayed for a bit."
Liam perches on the edge of the examination table, one leg dangling, the other foot planted on the floor. His fingers drum against the metal surface. "And?"
Garrick stands abruptly, the chair scraping again. He paces to the window on the opposite wall, staring out at Main Street. A truck rumbles past. "And I think she's going to stay."
I push off the wall. "What makes you say that?"
"She let me in." He turns around to face us, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Her apartment, her space. She was vulnerable as hell and she still let me take care of her."
Liam stops drumming his fingers. His whole body goes still. "That's not something she does lightly."
"No." Garrick pulls his hands out, crosses his arms instead. "She asked me to stay. Not ordered. Not hinted. Actually asked if I would stay with her while she slept off the hangover."
I move toward the center of the room, my boots thudding against the tile. "She's never asked any of us to stay before."
"Exactly." Garrick starts pacing again, moving from the window to the far wall, then back. Quick strides that eat up the small space. "And when I was there, in her kitchen, I realized something."
Liam slides off the table, landing lightly on his feet. He walks over to stand near the counter, giving Garrick room to pace. "What?"
Garrick stops moving. Plants his feet. Looks at both of us with something raw in his expression. "I'm done holding onto the past. Done using Rebecca as a reason to keep everyone at arm's length."
