Page 65

REMI

Three Weeks Later …

It’s been a few weeks now since the benefit, and everything has changed. The moment Knox and I took that shower together, it felt like something clicked into place for us.

We have been inseparable. Knox has even stopped going into the office, and it’s like he couldn’t care less about his campaign.

A campaign he has been fighting to win for the last four years.

I will put a stop to that quick, fast, and in a hurry.

I refuse to allow Knox to stop fighting toward his dream simply because I’m living here.

Another thing, I don’t know why I’m still living in their house. The threat of Al is gone, his pack, and Charlene are gone. There’s no one else out there trying to get me. But I find myself hesitant to leave.

Honestly, I don’t want to. I want to stay with them. Be everything they could ever want.

After everything that’s happened, I know they’ve slowly become my everything. Knox didn’t have to save me that night. Knox could’ve walked the other direction or, hell, could’ve not come to check on me and make sure I was okay.

He said he felt something in our connection give a slight tug, and he knew something was wrong. My fear made him come running, and I couldn’t be happier to have a connection with someone than on that night.

The living room is steeped in quiet, the hush broken only by the muted tick of the clock and the faint crackle from the fireplace, its embers glowing with patient warmth. I stand at the window, arms folded around myself as I gaze into the world beyond.

Snow drifts down in languid spirals, each flake catching the pale afternoon light, settling gently on the windowpane, and blurring the edges of the outside into a watercolor wash of white and grey.

Each breath fogs the glass for a fleeting second, a small reminder of warmth in the chill that rests just out of reach.

The house feels impossibly still in this moment, as though time itself has slowed to match the unhurried descent of winter. I watch the snow gather along the fence posts, blanketing the garden in silent promise, carving out a small corner of peace in a world that once felt jagged and uncertain.

There’s a curious comfort in this hush, a softness that wraps around my lingering doubts and soothes them, if only for a moment.

From behind, I sense the subtle weight of being watched, a reassuring presence that draws a smile to my lips.

The life outside may slumber beneath its snowy shroud, but within these walls, warmth blooms—quiet, steady, and unyielding.

I turn my head to look over my shoulder, coming face-to-face with Tripp, Knox, and Boone. The three of them stand there and look at me, expecting something. I don’t know what that could be, but I have a feeling they’re waiting for the ball to drop on their end.

Ever since they started trying to win me back, they’ve had this look in their eye, like everything is teetering on a precipice and I’m the only one that can bring it to safety. It’s not hard to know what it’s about.

It’s about us.

I haven’t told them if I’m going to give them a chance or not.

Yes, each of us has been together sexually, but sex isn’t forever. Sex is fleeting. It can be an emotionless release, and nothing more.

However, every time I’m with them, either together or separately, I feel so much more than simple emotions. It’s hard to describe, but I feel everything when I’m with them. Every high. Every low. And everything in between. They make me feel things I’ve never felt before in my life.

Without them, I wouldn’t be living, merely existing.

“Hey, guys,” I say with a smile.

Their shoulders relax. Each award me with a smile that nearly knocks me off my feet. Butterflies flap around in my stomach just from being in their presence, but they build to a fever pitch when they release those megawatt smiles of theirs.

They’re happy. Seeing me, the guys look like they’re staring at their entire reason for being. It’s a heady feeling that makes me feel light, and makes my skin prickle with awareness of their closeness.

“We have a surprise for you,” Knox states, gesturing for the guys to follow him.

I stare down at the Manila Folder in his hand. My eyes flick back up to him. Confusion swamps me. What could be in the folder?

Without another word, he hands it to me. He steps back once I take it, gesturing for me to take a seat on the love seat.

My fingers tremble as I glance down at the Manila folder resting in my lap, its edges warm from Knox’s touch.

The others hover nearby, anticipation flickering in their eyes, but I can’t bring myself to meet their gazes just yet.

The silence stretches, thick and electric, as I trace the flap with my thumb.

A thousand possibilities churn through my mind—dread and hope wrestling in my chest. Swallowing hard, I slide my nail under the flap, the crisp snap of paper breaking the hush.

The folder feels heavier than it should, as if it contains more than just paper—like the weight of all our shared moments is folded inside.

I pause, heart pounding, breath shallow, bracing for whatever truth lies within.

Finally, with a shaky exhale, I open the folder.

“What’s this?” I ask, reading the letterhead.

Different words pop out at me as I read.

Sole-Ownership.

Foreclosure.

Delinquent on taxes.

Knox comes to sit beside me, taking the folder from my hand and putting it down on the love seat next to us. He grabs my hands and puts them in his lap. His hands never leave mine, his thumbs rubbing the back of my hands. It’s a soothing gesture. It grounds me.

“We bought Sip-A-Brew for you,” he whispers, as if anything louder than that will break the connection.

It takes me a minute. Then two. And then three to really understand what he’s telling me.

Shock slams into me, sharp and dizzying, as if every breath has been knocked from my lungs.

My mind scrambles to catch up with the words I’ve just heard, the meaning of them so overwhelming that for a moment, I can only sit there, stunned.

Heat blooms in my cheeks, and my vision blurs at the edges—this can’t be real, can it?

My thoughts ricochet wildly, and for one terrifying, beautiful instant, the world feels suspended on the cusp of possibility.

The room seems to pulse with the aftershocks of Knox’s confession, and I stare at the faces around me, searching for any sign that this is some elaborate dream.

But all I see is hope. All I feel is the impossible weight of surprise—raw, dazzling, and utterly consuming.

“You bought the coffee shop for me?” I hate to hope, but I want to make absolutely sure.

“It’s all in there in black and white, precious,” Boone says, coming to sit on the other side of me.

Tripp walks around the love seat, hunkering down and setting his forearms on the back of the seat. His face is close to mine. His smile lights him up like a kid in a candy store.

“Yes, we bought the coffee shop for you, baby.”

“Wha … How?” I ask.

Knox pulls my attention back to him by tightening his hold on my hands. I fight the smile that threatens to bloom. “It seems that the monster didn’t pay his taxes or mortgage payments. His business was set to go into foreclosure within the next six months.”

“How did you get it now if the foreclosure was six months away or more?”

Knox looks at me with a knowing smile. “I had a little bit of pull. Since he and his pack, along with Charlene, were arrested, there was no way the payments would be made. I argued my case to the bank, and they accepted that I was right. Within the hour, you became the new owner of Sip-A-Brew.”

I look down at the folder once more. A pang of happiness nearly steals my breath.

I always felt at home there, tending to customers and moving around the place as if it were a second home.

I try to fight it with everything in me, but I can’t seem to.

I look up at Knox and throw myself at him, taking him completely off guard.

I straddle his lap and take his face in my hands, my dress billowing out around me.

“You bought me a coffee shop. You … know how much that means to me?”

Knox gazes up at me, his eyes shining with a quiet pride that seems to settle deep in his bones. There’s warmth in his smile—soft, unguarded, the kind that cradles you in its certainty. In that moment, the whole world narrows and brightens in the space between us.

I see it in the gentle tilt of his chin, the way his hands linger, steady and sure on mine. Love and pride mingle in his gaze; he looks at me as if I’ve become everything he ever hoped for, and he’s grateful—grateful that he could be the one to give this piece of happiness to me.

“I had a hunch,” he jokes quietly.

Tugging on my hands, I slowly lean forward until my front is pressed against his and my lips land on his.

He coaxes my lips open with his tongue, and I willingly open for him.

Our tongues make love with each other, causing that pickling sensation on my scalp at the feeling of him wrapping his arms around me.

He groans against my lips, taking the kiss so much further.

Once he’s kissed me thoroughly, I lean away until our lips are barely touching. His eyes look into mine, and I see the love he has for me shimmering in his gaze. It causes a knot to form in my chest, a blooming feeling to spread throughout my body.

“Mark me,” I whisper emotionally. “I want you all to mark me.”

Tripp is the first one to respond. He lifts me out of Knox’s arms. Tripp drags me up and over him, my clothed pussy dragging the front of Knox’s face, pulling a groan of need from him when he gets a scent of my slick. He tries to grab for my panties, but Tripp already has me in his arms.