Page 40 of Knot That Delicate

Juniper shook her head. "I can do it," she said, trotting over to the fire and quickly placing all of the potatoes at the edge of the flames. With the heat, they’d bake in no time.

Asher and I quickly got to work setting up the steaks, so they could cook through. While we were doing that, Dylan sat down on the bench with Juniper beside him. He pulled out supplies from our bag, skewering a marshmallow and handing it to Juniper.

"Hey, shouldn’t you guys have dinner first?" Asher teased, casting a playful glare at Dylan.

Dylan shrugged. "Omegas like sweets. S’mores for dinner is a great idea."

Juniper nodded enthusiastically. "You really get it, don’t you?" she said, turning to Dylan with a smile. She glanced back at me. "I’m sorry, he’s totally my favourite now," she said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. "I’m sure that won’t last long, sweetheart," I said, but deep down, I was questioning how Dylan had become the favourite. He helped her cut her hair and offered her marshmallows. I could have done both of those things. So, why was Dylan? Dylan was the last person I expected to behave like that.

Juniper took her time toasting the marshmallow to perfection. Once she had it wedged between the chocolate and graham crackers, she took a bite, humming with delight. "This is amazing! I wish I’d had these before. These are a camping thing, aren’t they? My family never went camping, so I never got to try them.”

I gawked at her. "S’mores and camping are a rite of passage!" I said indignantly.

Juniper shrugged. "Well, it’s a rite of passage I didn’t get to experience," she said, turning to Dylan and holding up the s’more. "What do you think?" she asked, holding it out for him to take a bite.

I paused, expecting Dylan to turn her down—he notoriously didn’t like sweets. But he surprised me by leaning forward and taking a bite of the gooey marshmallow snack, smiling at her around a mouthful of food. "This is really good. You’re a natural.”

At his words, Juniper beamed, kicking her legs happily. She was like a kid at Christmas, so content and happy with the world.

"Okay, guys, finish up the s’mores because food will be ready in a moment," Asher called as he pulled the steaks out of the skillet.

Dylan pulled several items of crockery out from the bag, including plates and cutlery, as we dished up each steak. I handed one of the medium-sized steaks to Juniper. The instinct was to give her a small one because she was a tiny omega and hardly ate, but she could use the protein, not to mention the iron. So, I gave her one of the larger ones in the hopes she would be able to consume it. If she left any, we would just pilfer the leftovers. We weren’t really picky about germs here; I couldn’t count the number of times I had drunk from the same cup as my pack mates, and they were filthy bastards compared to Juniper, who was practically a lady—a lady who liked getting mucky and doing everything feral.

“Come on, trouble,” Dylan said as he passed me, where I was sitting in the living room with a book open on my lap.

“Come?” I asked, looking up. “Come where?” I closed my book reluctantly. I didn’t particularly want to get up from the sofa. I was very comfortable and had a blanket on my lap, and like any good omega, I was very happy when I had a blanket on my lap. But I was also exceedingly curious about what Dylan wanted.

Even though the heat had been out for two days, the knitted blankets and roaring fires were perfect for keeping warm.

“Do you want to learn self-defense or not?” he asked pointedly and continued out of the cabin.

Well, that piqued my interest. Scrambling off the sofa, I hurried after him, almost tripping over my own feet. He grabbed a large black duffel bag from near the front door, and I followed him as he rounded the back of the cabin. He started walking further and further back, the distance between us and the house growing until we were nearly a five-minute walk away.

“Where are we going?” I asked, doing my best not to stumble over the uneven terrain.

“The shooting range,” Dylan said.

My brows shot up. “You guys have a shooting range?”

I could see Dylan nodding his head. “Yep, and that’s where we’re going,” he said simply.

“Why are we going there?”

Before Dylan could answer, we entered a large clearing, where there were several targets with little holes in them, indicating they’d clearly been used for shooting practice. There was a small table set up, and Dylan dropped the duffel bag onto it before unzipping it and pulling out a handgun.

For one brief moment, I considered that I’d finally pushed Dylan too far. I found way too much joy in tugging on his strings, and maybe he had decided to get rid of me.

“I’m just warning you, I’m not going to be an easy body to get rid of,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

Dylan gave me a withering look through his brows. “You’d be exceedingly easy to get rid of if I wanted to,” he said dryly.

I smirked. “Oh, does that mean youwantto keep me around?”

“Do you want to learn to shoot or not?” he snapped.

I gawked at him. “Wait, you want to teach me how to shoot? Like, honestly want to teach me to shoot, like you want to put a weapon in my hands?” I asked, incredulous.

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