Page 58 of Pack Baines

Sure enough, we all see a flash of too much Evron, and I’m laughing with the others as he snaps the towel in front of his dick like he hasn’t flashed us all before. “This isn’t how you were meant to see my junk for the first time.”

“It’s not the first time,” she sleepily replies, nuzzling her face into his neck with a soft sigh that makes me smile.

Evron frowns in confusion, sending us all a questioning look. I know exactly what she’s talking about, remembering the moment with such clarity that it almost feels like yesterday that it happened. Seeing Evron accidentally skinny dipping in a pond to retrieve a pretty rock a little Juno found earlier that day and lost when she stumbled over a protruding root sticking up out of the ground. She’d been running from Creek, Evron, and the twins, laughing hysterically as he chased her through the tall grass, using me as her guide since I was taller and had a better view. I so distinctly remember the devastation on Juno’s face when she lost the pebble. I can see it clear as day the more I think about it. The others caught the sad look, too, which resulted in Evron jumping into the pond to retrieve the stone, only his boxers came off in the process. Naturally, he didn’t notice until he got out of the pond, by which time I’d slapped a hand over Juno’s innocent eyes and directed her back to my house.

“When the hell have you seen my junk before?” Ev wonders, genuinely curious.

“When you found my pebble,” Juno snickers.

Ev shakes his head. “Nu-uh. Creek took you back to the hou—”

“Not before I caught an eyeful,” she interrupts, grinning widely even as her eyes shudder closed and her body melts in Evron’s hold.

“Oh, my god,” he mutters, his cheeks growing slightly pink, in a deeply amusing way. It takes a whole lot to embarrass Evron, so knowing Juno accomplished such a thing has me battling my laughter.

“Don’t worry, babe. You’ve grown,” she mutters, right before biting her lip, likely to stop herself from laughing.

“Oh, my god,” Ev stresses, glaring playfully down at our omega. “Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to mention sizes when it comes to a man’s dick?”

She shrugs loosely. “It’s a compliment. The water was cold at the time, right? You’re very impressive now. It’s fine.”

“Please,” Ev chokes, cheeks deepening in color as he carries Juniper to the couch and drops his body into the corner carefully, keeping Juno planted in his towel-covered lap. “Stop talking, for the love of my dignity.”

Peals of laughter break free from the little spitfire with purple hair, and Ev cracks a matching smile to the rest of us while we finish dishing food and carry it out to the living room where Juno continues laughing. It’s the first time in too long since I’ve heard that laughter, the fun, light-hearted unrestrained sound that is simply music to my ears.

Placing a bowl gently in Juno’s lap, and another balanced on her knee for Ev, I take a seat beside them while Creek and the twins find their places around the living room. It doesn’t escape my notice that we’re all sitting as close as we can possibly get.

And that’s how we stay for the rest of the night, bundled together as a family while we eat, laugh, and watch crappy television shows until Juno is full, happy, and content enough to fall asleep, half hanging off Evron and half lying on me. And, since I found herearlier today, she finally smells like piña coladas, sugar, and all things that make Juno a happy omega.

Chapter 22

Juniper

The remainder of the week goes by without incident, though that doesn’t stop me from jumping at every unexpected sound, looking over my shoulder constantly, and searching every nook and cranny for people lurking in places they shouldn’t be. The phone calls I made to Mac didn’t help, either, for he is a dick who thinks I should ovary up and push on with my life without another thought for the stranger that got into my head. As great as I find the man, he gives the shittiest advice known to all alphas, betas, and omegas alike. It’s worse when he doesn’t have the full story, which I haven’t offered. The less people I tell about the fucked up pack I was born into, the better.

Come Friday, it’s evident that Munro has finally reached his limit.

“Right. That’s fucking it,” he snaps, practically slamming our tray of food down with a glare. His pack around us stare with wide eyes, a mirror image to the expression on my face while we all completely ignore the way I damn near jump out of my skin.

Despite the guys’ best efforts to relax me, to ensure that I feel safe and comfortable, I haven’t been able to shake off the fear that still clings to me like Saran Wrap. I’ve been stressed for days, lacking in any kind of heat spikes, and notably cranky, although the guys keep calling it ‘adorable’ and I’m about ready to tear the word out ofthe fucking dictionary. I mean, how can anyone consider glaring adorable?

“What the hell is your problem?” I blurt, eyeing the guy like he’s a few screws short of a toolbox.

“You. You’re my problem. And when it’s not you, it’s that pastel-haired pain in the ass. But I haven’t seen her today, blessed be the fucking stars, so that leaves my problems narrowed down to just you,” he grouches, sitting and crossing his arms as he stares into my damn soul.

“Gee, thanks. Love that for me,” I mutter, rolling my eyes and dragging the tray with two bowls of mac and cheese, and a plate of garlic bread, toward me. I mean, if he’s going to be an asswad today, then I might as well fill my stomach while he does so.

“Damn, bro. That’s no way to talk to your other half,” Aero snickers, sliding up beside me and slinging his arm over my shoulder like I’m some wounded omega who needs coddling. I don’t remove it because the comfort kind of feels nice, but I’ll die before I admit that much.

Still glaring at me, Munro snaps, “Well, if my other half wasn’t such a pain in the damned neck, then I’d be nicer.”

“You’re never nice,” Rage and Haze blurt before snickering at the same time, and my lips twitch, because they’re wrong. The only person Munro is ever nice to, or at least close enough to being nice to, is me. It’s like we’re twins that were separated from birth and he’s finally claimed his long-lost sister. Which is why I let him get away with talking to me like he has a pineapple wedged up his brown star.

“I’m nice,” he snaps, sending a scathing look at his packmates, before he snaps his glare back onto me.

Glaring back, I damn near growl, “You’re as nice as a papercut, you asswad. What the hell got into you today?”

Clenching his jaw, it takes a moment for him to answer. “Juno, I can smell how stressed you are from here, and I’m a fucking beta. You’ve smelt like it all week, ever since you ran into that creep outside. If I can smell you, the others surely can, so I wantto know why you’ve been lying to me about being fine all week when you’re clearly not.”

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