Page 43 of Knot The Only Onee

Lucas

Iwatched Bridget walk away, my teeth sinking into the flesh along the side of my mouth to keep from calling after her.

I wanted to wrap my arms around her from behind and nibble on that gorgeous neck while Noah plastered against her front and kissed her as if their lives depended on it.

But she wasn’t quite ready yet.

And I suspected it had something to do with James.

The damn thick-headed numbskull of a beta who had too many stupid alpha-like tendencies.

“He’s infuriating,” I grumbled as I raided the pantry and fridge for the ingredients to make cookies.

I always baked when I was frustrated.

“Who?” Noah asked absently, a forlorn expression transforming his handsome face as he gazed longingly at the stairs.

“James.” I grabbed my largest mixing bowl and set to work putting the sugar, brown sugar, and butter in before I started furiously mixing. Normally, I’d prepare my cookie dough in the electric mixer. Not today. Nope.

Today, I needed to release some excess frustration, so I was mixing by hand.

“Why are you cursing James today?” Noah leaned against the counter opposite me and crossed one leg over the other in his typical alpha stance. Damn it, he was too tantalizing after being revved up by Bridget.

“Pretty sure she’s not ready to go any further until James gets his head out of his ass and tells her he wants her too.” Next were the eggs, then the vanilla and almond extracts.

Noah let out a heavy sigh, and I peeked at him from the corner of my eyes to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. He always did that when faced with a conflict.

Before he could answer me, James opened the door and placed his hat on a peg next to Noah’s. He sat on the small bench and unlaced his boots before sliding them into their cubby.

When he finally looked up, his deep dark eyes glanced from Noah to me and back again. “What’s up?”

I could do little more than let out a growl of frustration as I sifted in the first cup of flour, along with a pinch of salt and baking soda.

“Lucas is making cookies,” Noah remarked as his arms crossed over his chest. “What does it usually mean when Lucas makes cookies?”

“Fuck.” James ran a hand through his hair and rose to his feet. “It means he’s pissed off and wants to murder someone. Especially when he’s mixing them by hand.”

“And who do you think he wants to murder?” Noah asked, leading him to the answer.

I shot him a dirty look and lifted my upper lip in a snarl.

James cocked his head to the side, and for some reason, he was biting back a smile. “You really shouldn’t snarl, pup. It just looks silly on your gorgeous face.”

Okay, calling me gorgeous—or at least my face gorgeous—was a step in the right direction.

But I was still pissed at him.

I just growled, carefully folding in the chocolate chips, and then getting my favorite cookie sheet from the cabinet next to the oven.

Right on time, the oven beeped, signaling it was heated up and ready to receive my cookie goodness.

“Noah, could you give me a clue since someone isn’t spilling the beans.” James sighed in exasperation as he leaned against the fridge.

“Something to do with Bridget. I hadn’t gotten many details other than you need to get your head out of your ass and tell Bridget you want her too.”

“Ah.That.” James rubbed his hand through his hair. James’ brow furrowed as he considered what Noah said.

I ignored them as I spooned the cookie dough onto the sheet tray in perfect rows. It was soothing. Cooking always was for me, and I could finally think clearly afterward.