Chapter 21 Lia
Lia
Ididn’t agree to be this flustered before noon.
The vineyard kitchen is lit up with that golden late morning sun, and I watch as flour dust floats in lazy spirals through the light streaming in from the tall windows toward the back of the kitchen. The smell of sugar and butter is thick in the air, almost like I can taste it.
“You need the butter in chunks like this, right?” Knox asks as he tilts a bowl toward me.
I survey the little cubes of butter. “Perfect. Set those over there and get me the measuring cups. They’re stainless steel and should be sitting—”
“These?”
I look down and see the stacked measuring cups in his hand. “Thank you. I’ll have to prep more dough since I’ll be using the dough I’ve already got ready. Did you get it out of the fridge?”
“I did, and it’s room temperature. What now?”
I peer over my shoulder. “You know you don’t have to help, right?”
He just snickers as he unbuttons the sleeves of his flannel and rolls them up. “Just tell me what needs to be done, Sunshine. Any time with you is time well spent.”
I feel my cheeks flush for what seems to be the twelfth time just this morning. Knox has that sort of effect on me, apparently.
“The dough needs to be kneaded,” I say, turning my attention back to the mixer in front of me.
“Ah, so we have something in common, then.”
I snicker. “Set a timer for five minutes and knead it around. Make sure to flour the surface. If after that five minutes it’s still sticking to your hands, knead it only until the dough comes clean off your skin.”
“Should I flour my hands as well?”
“Flour the surface and then your hands will be naturally floured.”
“And we see why you’re the professional.”
I giggle and shake my head as I dump the ingredients for more fresh dough into the mixer. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“Will do, boss lady.”
I can’t help but to peek over my shoulder every once in a while, just to check on Knox and see how he’s doing. The timer goes off, but when I look over at him he’s still got some dough on his hands. He flours the surface once more, his forearms flexing as he kneads the dough with both fists.
He’s staring at it like he’s got something to prove, too.
“Why are you glaring at it?” I ask.
“I’m not glaring,” he says as he punches the dough with his hand. I watch it deflate as he checks his fist. “I’m focusing.”
I can’t help but smile. “You’re definitely glaring. What did that dough ever do to you?”
“Ah-hah!” he says triumphantly as he turns and holds out his hands to me. “No dough on the fingers. What happens now?”
“Wash your hands and come watch this mixer.” I turn it on. “Turn it off when everything is incorporated and the dough is shiny. The dough you’re working on has to proof for another hour before I can shape it.”
“All right, tag-team time. Let’s do this.”
We dance around one another in the kitchen, and it makes me smile.
For once, I don’t need my music to help drown out the voices of insecurity that I battle every time I get my hands dirty with my creations.
Knox’s laughter and joking nature fills the crevices for me, muting the voices that usually rush through my head.
My mind is quiet when I’m with him. It’s also quiet when I’m with Eli.
I wonder if Walker will be the same way.
“Dough’s shiny and incorporated,” Knox says as I hear the mixer slow to a stop.
I place a damp rag over the top of the cinnamon roll dough, and I set it to the side. “Perfect. Let’s get what you’ve got over there dumped out into a bowl and put in the fridge.”
“Won’t the cold slow down the process of everything?”
I smile at him. “Yes, and that’s what we want. I won’t be using this dough for another day or so. The fridge will help develop the flavor without over proofing it.”
He returns my smile. “You’re just a wealth of knowledge, aren’t you?”
“It’s just science and chemistry. Nothing really to it.”
“Well, science was my worst subject in school, so you’re practically a superhero to me.”
After getting all of the dough where it needs to go, all we have to do is prep the filling and let it sit. I clean down the surface where we’re going to chop up the produce while Knox washes his hands, and then it’s my turn at the sink.
“Okay, now,” I say as I make my way to the walk-in fridge. “The cherries have to be pitted and sliced in half. The rhubarb will be a bit easier. You just chop off the last two inches of the stalk, toss it, and cube up the rest. Shouldn’t take us but maybe half an hour to prep the produce.”
I pluck the bag of cherries and the stalks of rhubarb that I need from the shelving units, but when I turn around, Knox is standing there with a look on his face that makes my thighs clench together. His gaze rakes down my body, lingering on my skirt, and I wonder what he’s thinking.
“Knox?”
His heated gaze whips back up to me. “Here, let me take that from you.”
He comes inside the walk-in and my vision tunnels. My god, he’s handsome. It should be illegal, how handsome Knox is. He crowds me as he takes the produce from my hands, and my nostrils flare. His scent hangs heavily around me, wrapping me up in a tight embrace. I have to close my eyes.
“Be right back,” he says.
I clear my throat and give the walk-in one last look, running through the ingredients in my head to make sure there’s nothing I’m forgetting. But when I turn around, I find Knox standing right behind me.
Crowding my body with his bulk.
“You okay there, Sunshine?”
I swallow hard as I open my eyes and gaze up into his face. “Yeah. You?”
His eyes search my face. “Always, when I’m with you.”
Time stills. Everything fades away, including the order for the cinnamon rolls we’re supposed to be preparing. My attention falls to his mouth.
The swell of his lower lip taunts me, making me want to press mine against his. My nostrils flare again. A shiver runs up my spine, making the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end.
I clear my throat. “We should finish the produce and get it simmering on the stove with some sugar.”
My voice is still more breathless than I’d like.
“Anything you need,” Knox says before he finally steps backward.
The rush of chilly air between us makes me hustle out of the walk-in. I wait for him to follow me and then close the door before pressing my forehead to it. I just need a minute to gather myself, that’s all.
My preheat prickles beneath my skin, forcing thoughts of thick knots to my mind. I have to slow my breathing. It’s much too quick. In through my nose, out through my mouth.
In, and out.
In, and out.
The last thing I need to be thinking about is hopping into Knox’s lap and taking him for a ride. I have to focus on work. My heat is still a week or so out. I can do this.
But then, a shadow falls over me as warmth crowds my back.
“Knox?” I whisper.
“Mmmm,” he hums as his hands fall to my hips. “You look like you’re struggling, Sunshine.”
I swallow thickly. “We should—”
His lips fall to my shoulder, stopping my words in their tracks. “We should… what?”
I let out a trembled breath. “We should, um…”
His chuckle is dark as his hands massage my hips. “Tell me no.”
I pause. “What?”
He kisses the crook of my neck, right where my scent gland is. “Tell me no, and I back off now. No questions asked.”
I don’t make a sound, though.
I don’t want him to stop.
“Lift that skirt for me, Sunshine,” he mutters against the shell of my ear. “I’ve smelled you all morning. I need a little taste.”
I groan and gather my skirt up in both of my hands. But instead of getting onto his knees, he crowds me with his body until my front is flushed with the closed door of the walk-in. His hand wanders, his other hand pinning my hip to the door as his lips pepper kisses along my shoulder.
“Knox,” I whisper.
His nose teases the pulse point of my neck. “Yes?”
I brush my ass back against him. “Please.”
He nips at my ear. “Good girl, begging for me so well.”
His fingers slip inside my panties as he teases my folds. I’m so wet for him, and the squelching sound it makes when he parts my pussy lips makes him growl. The rumble rattles in between my shoulders before his lips find my neck, kissing and licking right against my scent gland.
“Knox,” I whimper.
“So needy for me,” he mutters against my skin. “Can’t get enough.”
His fingers waste no time finding my clit. I gasp as my leg kicks, and it bucks my ass back against him again. His cock pulses against the swell of my ass, and my preheat kicks into gear. It spins up like a weapon, the flush of it through my body already dampening my skin.
His tongue works along my scent gland before he presses his nose to it. My gland expresses, making me moan, and I hear him inhale it directly from the source before something in between a growl and a groan leaves his lips.
The Omega inside of me is trying to claw her way free.
I can feel her.
“Fucking hell, Sunshine, you smell divine.”
His touch is like lightning. My hips move without permission, grinding down into his touch as if it were a fountain in the middle of a desert and my body is starved for water. My body burns for him, my head thrown back against his chest as he pins me to the walk-in.
Sweat beads against my brow.
“What if Walker hears us?” I pant out.
“Let him watch,” Knox growls against my shoulder.
“Fine by me,” Walker says.
I jump at the sound of his voice as something crunches. How did I not scent him when he walked in? How did I not hear his footsteps? I peer over my shoulder just as Knox pinches the tip of my swollen mound, and my eyes roll back.
“Fuck. Knox. He’s—Walker’s—”
I hear another crunch and flutter my eyes open enough to find Walker eating a bag of popcorn. His eyes blaze, watching me as Knox’s hand cups my pussy.
“Just on break,” Walker says as he crunches down on another popcorn kernel. “Don’t mind me.”
“You heard the Alpha, Sunshine,” Knox says as he dips down and gathers some of my slick on his fingers. “Let’s give him something to help him unwind.”