Page 75 of Knot My Sin

Chewing on my bottom lip as I watch the buildings, I think about how much has changed. I haven’t really gone out much in the last ten years.

“We’ve got you, Wren,” Flynn murmurs in my ear. I’m trying not to freak out through the bond, but don’t know how it all works yet.

“It’s a short trip, Sweetness,” Shaw rumbles as he turns into the grocery store. It’s huge, and I see that there’s a lot of cars in the parking lot. “We’re running low on some staples, and I want to pick up some of your favorite foods.”

“I don’t really have anything like that,” I murmur. “Any food is usually pretty good.”

“Well, then we’re on a mission to find your favorites,” Ambrose grunts. “Find your preferences, what you hate, it’s totally okay to dislike something.”

“I really hate peanut butter sandwiches,” Flynn divulges. “It’s the texture, I can’t do it. I can make cookies with peanut butter just fine, though.”

“You kind of have a sweet tooth,” Everest teases him as Flynn elbows him.

“I don’t like mushrooms,” Ambrose says. “They’re slimy.”

His words make me giggle, because I guess I can see that. After Shaw parks, we get out of the vehicle, and Flynn tucks me tightly against him as we walk toward the entrance.

“I’m not a big mustard fan,” Shaw reveals. “Most condiments weird me out.”

Giggling at the way he says that, I decide he’s right. May as well figure out what I like. Everest and Ambrose grab carts as they pass them, and I continue down the list of food aversions.

“Any food aversions, Everest?” I ask as we move toward the food aisles.

“Eh, I could live without ever seeing another piece of broccoli,” he says. “I was forced to eat it as a kid, and now even the thought of it makes me gag.”

The face he makes makes me snicker. “I guess I should figure out what I do and don’t like,” I murmur.

The guys pull things off the shelves as we walk, and the first cart gets full fast. Eyes wide, I shake my head as we shop.

“Chicken or steak, Wren?” Shaw rumbles as we stand in front of the meat section. God, there’s so many options.

“How are we making it?” I ask, eyes wide. “Alone, in tacos, or… I have questions.”

“And I love them,” he says with a chuckle. “We should definitely make tacos. Flynn makes a fucking amazing steak salad, so the answer is both then.”

Smirking at me as he pulls portions of both from the refrigerated shelves, I roll my eyes.

“Don't be a brat,” Everest teases me, kissing my cheek. “Damn, did we get ice cream? We’re almost done with our shopping.”

“I remember where the ice cream is,” I exclaim, eyes sparkling. I also saw a pint I wanted to try.

“We’re sending a search party if you take too long,” Ambrose growls as I start walking toward the freezer section.

“I hope so,” I call over my shoulder, giggling. God, these men.

Humming under my breath happily, I slow at the ice cream section of the store and take in all of the options. Chocolate caramel, peppermint brownie, hmmm there’s the blackberry buttermilk.

Focus Wren! You really wanted the cookies in cream. Why are decisions so difficult?

Opening the door, I hear shoes scuff the floor behind me as I reach inside. The air smells suddenly like motor oil, making my nose wrinkle as I pull out a pint of ice cream.

“Such a pretty little omega. Why do you smell so good?” a nasally voice asks.

Jerking back, I almost run right into his arm that wraps around my neck. Looking over my shoulder in fright, I see an unkept beard, greasy hair, and cruel eyes.

I know this person.

“Leave me alone,” I rasp, forcing myself to stomp on his foot and shove away his arm to scramble away.

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