Page 33 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Twenty-One

Chloe

N athaniel’s jacket slips partway off my shoulders as I hop out of the golf cart, and my ankles wobble in the unfamiliar high heels.

Dominic leaps from the back seat to catch my elbow and takes the leather folder I stole from Sinclair & Associates Law Firm. “Careful.”

“I can’t wait to put my slippers on.” I tip into his side as we walk toward the front porch, my small purse clutched in my other hand. “My feet aren’t used to heels anymore.”

“Aww, poor baby,” he teases. “Do I need to carry you the rest of the way?”

I smack his arm, my shoes clacking unfamiliarly on the Homestead’s wooden steps, as if I’ve stepped into someone else’s story. “No mocking me until you’ve walked around in heels for half a day.”

Nathaniel jogs ahead of us. “Should we order Dom a pair, sweetheart? It seems only fair.”

“Hey, I would rock high heels.” Dominic throws his head back, nose in the air. “Only buy them if you want to be put in your place.”

Nathaniel pauses at the door to turn back and consider it before pulling out his phone. “Challenge accepted.”

Dominic’s lips part. “No, wait?—”

The door flies open, and Quinn barrels out, her arms flung wide. “Aunt Chloe, you’re back! Uncle Holden made your favorite muffins and?—”

She skids to a stop so fast she nearly takes a tumble, her sneakers squeaking on the porch boards. Her pale brown eyes, so much like Blake’s, widen as they take in my appearance. The excitement drains from her face, replaced by confusion and a flicker of fear.

Her small hands rise to cover her mouth as she stares. My heart clenches. In my navy blazer and styled hair, I must look like a stranger to her.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, toes curling inward with uncertainty. “Aunt Chloe?”

Holden appears in the doorway, his sleeves rolled up and flour on his apron.

His attention latches onto me, and his shoulders relax as relief crosses his face.

Blake steps up behind him, his hair down from its usual bun.

His attention lands on Quinn first before he finds me, taking in the corporate armor I’m still wearing.

Understanding flickers across Blake’s features before he moves to scoop Quinn into his arms. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, her small body tense, and I catch the muffled sound of her breathing in his smoked applewood and cider pheromones, seeking comfort.

“Hey there, princess,” Blake murmurs, one hand smoothing down her hair. “It’s still Chloe. She had to dress up today. You play dress up, yeah?”

I release Dominic’s arm and approach, keeping my movements gentle and non-threatening. My fingers find the edge of Nathaniel’s jacket, pulling it tighter around myself to hide the fancy clothes.

“Quinn?” I rest a hand over my heart. “It’s still me. I might look different, but I’m still the same Aunt Chloe who reads you bedtime stories and lets you braid my hair.”

She peeks over Blake’s shoulder, one brown eye visible between strands of hair. She studies my face, searching for the familiar beneath the makeup.

“Uncle Dom and I had to go to battle dragons today,” I explain, trying to connect with her love of telling stories.

“Remember how knights wear armor when they fight monsters? Well, this is my armor.” I gesture to my face and styled hair.

“We had to look very important so the dragons would take us seriously.”

Quinn’s grip on Blake loosens, curiosity winning over wariness. “Did you win?”

Dominic steps up beside me, his hand settling on my shoulder. “Your Aunt Chloe was the bravest knight I’ve ever seen. She told those dragons what she thought of them.”

Quinn’s lips twitch. “Were they scary dragons?”

“The scariest,” I confirm. “But we protected each other, as pack should.”

She wriggles in Blake’s arms until he sets her down, and she takes a tentative step toward me. Her small finger reaches out to touch the silk of my blouse, the fabric so different from my usual soft cotton shirts.

“Why does your face look shiny?” she asks, tilting her head. “And your hair looks like doll hair.”

I laugh, the sound bubbling up despite the heavy emotions of the day. “The shiny stuff is called makeup. It’s my warpaint, but it also makes my skin itch.” I touch my cheek where the foundation sits heavy and unnatural. “And these pins in my hair are poking my scalp.”

Quinn’s expression shifts to sympathy. “That sounds uncomfortable. Why did you have to wear uncomfortable things to fight dragons?”

“Because sometimes, to beat the tricky dragons, you have to play their game first.” I crouch down to her level, the movement awkward in my heels and skirt. “But now we’re home, so I can take off all this armor and go back to being me.”

“Okay,” she accepts with six-year-old logic. “Can I help you take it off? I’m great with hair. I practice on Uncle Blake all the time.”

Warmth floods my chest at her offer. “I would love that. But first, I need to give a proper hello to my pack.”

I rise and turn to find Holden, Nathaniel, and Blake watching us, their expressions soft with a tenderness that catches in my throat. Holden lingers at the doorway, hands twisting in his apron, a quiet tension written in the lines of his face.

I approach him first, concerned by the vulnerable set of his mouth. When I rise on my toes to brush my lips over his, the bitter vanilla of his worry fills my senses. His hands hover at my waist without quite touching, as if he’s afraid of getting me dirty .

“I missed you,” I whisper to him.

He tilts his head toward mine, breath catching. “Missed you, too.”

Blake steps forward next, Quinn still clinging to his hand. His kiss tastes of cider and home. His free arm wraps around my waist, pulling me close until the steady rhythm of his heartbeat reaches me.

I turn to Nathaniel, who I already greeted at the docks.

He waits with characteristic patience, though I catch the way his fingers drum once on his thigh.

When I reach him, his palm cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my makeup with a gentle sweep.

His kiss is controlled but heated, a promise of deeper conversation to come.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs, his leather-and-clove scent wrapping around me.

“Don’t forget to buy those heels,” I whisper, smiling.

Last but not least, I turn to Dominic, who’s been watching with growing amusement. The moment I step within reach, he sweeps me off my feet, tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Dominic!” I squeal, grabbing fistfuls of his suit jacket to steady myself. “Put me down!”

Quinn dissolves into giggles at the sight, her earlier uncertainty forgotten.

“My damsel’s feet hurt, and we both need to get out of this armor,” Dominic announces to the group, patting my thigh where it rests over his shoulder. “Before we forget who we are underneath all this corporate nonsense.”

“No playing on the stairs,” Nathaniel calls as Dominic heads for the front door. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Hey, Grady!” I call to my bestie as we pass him coming out of the back hall.

“A-afternoon, Chloe,” he calls back, waving the book in his hand.

“Come on, princess!” Dominic calls to Quinn as he sets me down at the foot of the stairs, but keeps hold of my hand. “If you want to help with Aunt Chloe’s hair, now is the time!”

His fingers intertwine with mine, warm and callused from drafting with a pencil.

He takes the small purse from me and passes it and the letter folder to Nathaniel. Then we head upstairs, Quinn scrambling up ahead of us.

At my bedroom door, Dominic turns to me, his hands rising to cradle either side of my neck. His thumbs brush along my jawline, and the kiss he gives me is slow, sure, and achingly tender.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on mine. “Go get comfortable. I’ll wait for you.”

“Wait for me!” Quinn plunks down outside my room to tug off her sneakers with both hands before she follows me inside.

I close the door behind us and draw in a deep breath filled with the scents of my pack.

No courtroom. No Sinclair offices. Just home.

“Why don’t I sit at my desk while you help me with the pins?” I suggest.

“Okay!” She follows to stand behind me.

I guide her hands to the base of my neck. “There’s a pin right here. Be gentle, okay? These things have been trying to kill me all day.”

She giggles and begins working, tiny fingers combing through stiff, hair-sprayed strands. Each pin she frees clinks onto my desk, and one by one, the tightness releases until my scalp can breathe again.

“You’re pretty when you dress up,” Quinn says after a while. “But I like how you usually look better.”

I look at our reflection, her small hands still in my pink waves. “Me, too, princess. All the makeup and fancy hair were for pretending. This is who I really am.”

When the last pin drops onto my desk, I shake my hair out and sigh with relief.

“Do you want to help me pick out my new outfit?” I ask .

“Yes!” The word trails behind her as she races into my closet.

When I join her, I find her standing in front of the long hanging-rod filled with my onesies. “You have more costumes?”

I join her and lift a sleeve. “I do.”

She bounces on her toes. “You should wear one of these!”

“You think so?”

“Yes!” Her whole face lights up like it’s Christmas. “Can I wear one, too?”

“Of course,” I say without hesitation.

I pull out my frog onesie and hand it to her for inspection. She giggles at the floppy eyeballs on the hood, then spots a different onesie she likes even better.

“What about this one?” she asks, tugging out the cow onesie, which still has the tag on from when Grady gifted it to me.

It’s three times her size, with the padded pink udder dragging at the front of the outfit.

“That one might eat you alive,” I warn.

She hugs it to her chest. “I love it!”

“Okay, but I warned you!” I kneel and help her into it, rolling up the legs and sleeves until she resembles a sleepy baby calf, the udder almost dragging on the ground. She squeezes the dangling parts and giggles with delight, much as I had when Grady gave it to me.

“These are the outfits I wear when I need comfort,” I tell her, taking off the dress suit to hang up and slipping into the frog onesie. “They remind me I don’t have to be brave all the time.”

Quinn’s expression turns serious, as if I entrusted her with a big secret. “Me, too. It’s safe here.”

My heart squeezes, full and aching all at once. “Good.”

We go into the bathroom, where I do my best to wash off all the makeup. Quinn copies me, patting her own face with one of the fluffy lavender towels. She looks adorable, and I braid her hair, then pull up her hood and tweak her cow ears.

She does the same for me, giggling at the frog eyes sticking up off the top of my head.

I offer her my hand. “Let’s go show the boys how cute we are.”

She giggles again, and we pad out of the room together, two mismatched animals, but perfectly at home.

When we step out of my room, Dominic is waiting in the hallway, leaning on the opposite wall with his arms crossed. He’s changed into jeans and a soft gray sweater, his black hair loose, hiding the shaved sides of his head and giving him a softer appearance.

He spots us, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Well, aren’t you two adorable?”

“The most adorable!” Quinn bounces on her toes, and the udders dances.

“So I see.” He pushes off the wall and offers me his arm. “Is this the end of the princess era and the rise of farm-chic?”

“I hope not after you guys just designed her bedroom,” I whisper.

We walk down the hallway together, his arm warm and solid beneath my hand.

The voices of our pack drift from the family room at the end of the hall, Blake’s deep rumble mixing with Nathaniel’s more clipped tones and Holden’s lighter tenor.

My Alphas have arranged themselves on the L-shaped sofa with Holden at one end, his golden-brown curls catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows. The soft green sweater he changed into brings out the hazel in his eyes, though tension still brackets his mouth.

Without hesitation, I release Dominic and Quinn to beeline for him, climbing into his lap. He lets out a soft oomph , but his arms close around me, one hand settling on my hip while the other comes up to cup the back of my head. The vanilla cake scent of him surrounds me, sweet and comforting.

“Much better,” he murmurs into my hair, his tension easing.

I burrow closer, nuzzling the warm skin of his neck. “This onesie reminds me of our movie date in the theater.”

His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. “You mean the one I fell asleep during?”

I nuzzle behind his ear. “Your snores are so cute?”

“Hey, k-kiddo,” Grady says, and I lift my head to find him kneeling in front of Quinn. “Can you help me put together a picnic for everyone?”

Uncertain, Quinn checks with Blake, who gives his approval. “Get all the good treats, and bring Sprinkles up, too. We’re going to have a family night.”

“Since we’re p-putting together the picnic, we get to ch-choose the first movie,” Grady whispers conspiratorially.

As they head off, Blake settles beside us, his thigh brushing mine, his hand curling over my ankle. Dominic drops to sit beside Nathaniel, their bodies angled toward me.

I straighten, sensing a change in the four of them. “Why do I feel like we’re having a pack meeting?”

Dominic leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because we are.”

A deep breath fills my lungs with clove, vanilla, citrus, and smoked applewood in the air. Home .

I push back my hood. “I’m listening.”