Page 3 of Knot Her Beta

“Shaker fronts instead of the flat panel we spec’d.”

“Send me the invoice number, and I’ll call them today. Shaker’s a nicer finish if they’ll give them to us for the cost of our original order.”

He grunts in agreement. “They probably have too much stock and are trying to offload it under our noses.”

“Then they can pay for the exchange.” I take a sip of my coffee. “I’ll let you know before first break how to move forward.”

He steps back to rejoin the others.

The water taxi pushes away from the dock, and Kyle guides us through the harbor mouth with practiced ease. The chop outside the bay hits us in short, cold slaps, the spray catching the light.

My crew settles in, conversations overlapping about sub-contractors and concrete cure times while the island grows from a dark smudge on the horizon into solid rocks and evergreens.

The dock at Misty Pines extends out over the calmer water of the protected cove as we approach. The trees crowd the shoreline, massive Douglas firs that dwarf everything around them.

Four figures stand waiting at the end of the dock.

Sprinkles catches my attention first, the giant black Newfoundland sitting at the end of the gangway. Quinn stands beside him in a yellow coat, clutching her Uncle Blake’s hand. The tall Alpha has to stoop a little, the dark bun on top of his head tilting off-center. And beside them, Leif stands with his hands in the pockets of his gray jacket.

My pulse skips on the next beat.

I focus on the dock railing, giving the grain of the wood and the rust-stained bolt at the nearest post all my attention.

The water taxi bumps the dock, and Kyle ties off at the bow. The gangway connects with a clang.

Jared appears at my elbow, and I turn toward him without thinking. His hands cup my face, and he plants a firm kiss on my mouth in full view of the entire crew.

From behind me come loud whistles, and someone shouts, “Get a room, boss!”

“All right, enough,” I say, pulling back. I raise my voice without turning. “Get your gear and get up the path.”

They go, the dock filling with the clatter of boots and tools, but the catcalls keep coming as they walk up the gangway, loud enough for me to easily hear.

I swat Jared’s arm. “You did that on purpose.”

“Little bit.” He gives me an unrepentant grin and falls in with Kyle to help secure the gangway.

I’m still smiling as I disembark and almost fall over at the impact of a small body slamming into me at full force.

I brace myself, catching Quinn as she wraps her arms around my legs. Sprinkles bounds up behind her with an excited bark, his tail working double time.

I pat her between the shoulder blades. “Morning, princess.”

“Sprinkles wouldn’t eat this morning,” Quinn reports, looking up at me with her full attention. “He just sat by his bowl without touching it.”

She gestures at the dog, who sits and thumps his tail against the dock.

“So I had to hold up each piece and go, this one’s okay, this one’s okay, until he ate it.” She pauses. “The whole bowl.”

“That’s a lot of pieces.”

“It was.” She lets out a deep sigh. “And then Uncle Nat said Sprinkles was being a drama king.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t think dogs know how to be dramatic.”

“Not dramatic at all,” I agree.

“Okay, kiddo, less reporting on Sprinkles’s morning habits and more getting onto the boat,” Blake calls out. “You don’t want to be late.”

She huffs but releases me, and I stand by the gangplank to ensure she climbs aboard without a tumble into the glacier water. She vanishes toward the bow, and she launches into her story all over again for Jared and Kyle.