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Knot Convenient

Page 62

by Melissa Huxley

Milo was also unusually calm. He contented himself with sitting in the stroller and watching the world go by. All the locals waved at him, and he took great pleasure in waving back. Willow Grove was certainly friendlier than our last home.

“I may have found something useful,” Noah declared, walking around the corner.

“Edie will be pleased!” I said.

He grimaced. “Not for Edie, but something for your room!”

“I have everything I need.” I frowned.

Noah shook his head. “I’m pretty sure you mentioned that there was at least a box or two of books coming from your old apartment, am I right?”

“You are…” I trailed off. “They’re taking a lifetime, but the last update said another week or two.”

“Well, go look at these.” He pointed to a few bookcases in the back. “They’re that duck egg blue color you keep getting for your nest! What do you think?”

The bookcases were beautiful. Taller than me with little copper-colored feet, someone had clearly taken their time while painting and restoring them.

“I think you’re right!” I admitted. “They’re not too expensive, are they? I can get some cheap ones from the big box store that’ll work just as well.” I bit my lip. One thing our little antiquing adventure had taught me was that some old pieces of furniture were ridiculously expensive.

“That doesn’t matter.” Noah waved off my concern. “As my students would say, the vibes are good! So we are getting them. Books deserve nice bookcases. Why don’t I talk to the shop owner while you check out those cute mixing bowls you were eyeing earlier—don’t think I didn’t see that.”

His hand rested on my lower back as he shot me a knowing look.

There had been a rather beautiful set of mixing bowls. Noah’s smile was so sweet, I didn’t have it in me to argue with him.

“You’re too good to me, you know?” I whispered, shaking my head.

He shrugged. “You need to get used to it.”

I grinned, lifting onto my tiptoes, reaching up so my lips brushed his cheek. His freshly baked bread scent had been teasing me all day, and I wanted to be closer.

Noah turned to me, a smile on his face as he leaned forward, capturing my lips. He moved slowly, giving me plenty of time to get away if I wanted—but I didn’t.

It amazed me how each man was different when it came to kisses. Marshall was wild and rough in the best way, Emmett was controlled and fun. Noah was gentle, but I got the sense that there was more under the surface, like he was trying to restrain himself.

I wanted to see him unrestrained, but all in good time.

“Do you think these are any good?” Noah asked, looking between the two cabinets with a frown. He stood between two startlingly similar pieces of furniture, Milo in his arms, his chubby fists buried in Noah’s hair. I had tried to take my wriggly son away from him, but he’d waved me off again, seemingly content with Milo’s mischief-making.

Turning back to the furniture, I took a moment to look more closely before giving him my opinion. They were both solid, traditional pieces, but after visiting three antique stores, everything was starting to look the same.

“This one has some scratches, so it depends. Personally, I don’t think they’re too bad, and you could probably get a nice discount because of them. But if Edie dislikes imperfections, then definitely go for this one,” I said, pointing to the lighter wood one.

Noah looked between me and the cabinet. He had this desperate, almost lost expression as he weighed his options before turning to me. “Sold.” He nodded, his brows up in a way that showed how very done with shopping he was. “You want to go get ice cream?”

I smiled, walking up to him and patting him on the back. “You did good. I definitely think that calls for ice cream.”

Chapter 27

Tobias

Family time was best when our whole pack gathered together. It was always immensely fun, but there was a special kind of anticipation driving home knowing that I was going to be the first home and get to spend a little alone time with Summer and Milo.

Wanting to do something for Summer, I had stopped by one of the small stores on Main Street on my lunch break and picked up a blanket that I thought she would like—there was even a matching one for Milo.

When I got inside, Summer was curled up on the couch in the living room, book in hand. She was clearly absorbed in it because she didn’t move an inch when I entered. Her gaze was locked firmly on the words in front of her.

Knowing she’d probably jump, I walked up behind her. “Where’s the little monster?”