Page 29 of Knot By Design
Maybe this is what I needed—to remember there’s life outside work, outside the ache of what-ifs.
Some people dance near the jukebox, spinning and laughing. Someone calls out a request. My phone buzzes—a message from Wren.
Where are you hiding tonight?
I send back a picture of the glowing bar, the reflection of lights in my glass.The Drunken Fish. You should come with me next time. After the baby.
Her reply comes fast.You’re brave. Just keep your location on. And drink water, okay?
I roll my eyes but smile.Yes, Mom.
Then I let myself move. Not on the dance floor, not yet, but with the rhythm. My body sways in my seat, shoulders loosening, pulse syncing with the bassline.
The second drink goes down easier than it should. I laugh with Tom, flirt lightly when someone compliments my smile. It feels good. It feels human.
By the time I stand to stretch my legs, I’ve almost forgotten why I came. I just know I needed this. I needed to stop thinking about Dorian, or Margaret, or the way Fox Hollow sometimes feels too small for all my memories.
I wander toward the pool table, drawn by the clack of billiard balls and easy laughter. And that’s when I see them.
Jude and Ryker.
For a second, I think I’m imagining it. But no, there they are, standing near the far end of the bar.
Ryker in his usual dark jacket, shoulders broad and watchful. Jude grinning, his cap pushed back, a pool cue in hand.
Jude spots me first. His expression flickers from surprise to warmth. “Well, look who it is,” he says, setting the cue aside. “Twice in one day.”
“Small town, Carter,” I say, trying not to sound too flustered. “You following me?”
“Please,” Ryker mutters, half-smiling. “We came here for karaoke. The Smokehouse was packed.”
“You sing?” I tease.
“Only after three drinks,” Jude says, his cheeks flushed from laughter.
They’re already a few shots in, relaxed in a way I rarely see. I’ve seen them in here just a couple of times. Everyone knows that the two friends keep to themselves, especially after they lost their mate.
It was so tragic, the talk of the town for at least six months, but it seems a lot of people moved on from the news.
I don’t think I’ve ever even talked to them about that, though. About her. I had seen her around town once or twice. She was a gorgeous woman.
Jude gestures to the bartender. “Join us?”
I hesitate for half a heartbeat. Then I nod. “Why not?”
Shots appear—something cinnamon-sweet that burns pleasantly on the way down. We play darts. I lose spectacularly, and Jude cheers like I just won the state fair. Ryker barely says a word, but his quiet grin gives him away. The man’s softer than he wants people to think.
The music changes to something fast and pulsing. A few locals take over the small dance floor. Jude nudges me.
“Come on. You can’t tell me you don’t dance.”
“I can,” I say. “But I won’t.”
He laughs. “Then prove it.”
Before I can protest, he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd. The lights blur gold and red as we move, my laughter catching somewhere between nerves and delight.
He’s surprisingly good, sure-footed. When he spins me, my hair brushes his shoulder, and for a breath, I forget everything else.
