Page 27 of Knot Her Beta

“Blake’s her favorite.”

“Blake’s her uncle.” Jared grins. “There’s a difference.”

I hide my amusement behind a sip of wine.

Leif shakes his head as he spreads butter over a slice of bread, watching it melt into the warm crumb. “Ever since I moved into the cabin, she’s decided she’s entitled to my time whenever the mood strikes.”

Grady chuckles across the table.

“Yesterday,” Leif continues, “she showed up before breakfast with Sprinkles and announced they were both bored.”

“What time?” I ask.

“Seven fifteen.”

Jared frowns. “Shouldn’t you guys have already been at the school by that time on a Friday?”

“It was a teacher workday.” He sets down his spoon. “I had a full afternoon of meetings at the school lined up and was planning to sleep until eight at least. She informed me the dog needed a walk, and I needed fresh air.”

“That does sound like Quinn.”

“She wasn’t wrong.” Fondness softens his features. “Now she times her arrival to the minute. I come out to lock up, and she’s already there on my porch with Sprinkles, backpack on, with our path already mapped out. We’ve taken every possible path between my cabin and the dock at this point. The longer ones involve significant detours for interesting rocks.”

“Does that mean you’re not getting free meals at the Homestead?” Jared demands as if the very thought offends him. “I can’t believe Holden is letting you skip out on family meals.”

Leif has the grace to duck his head. “I spend more time there than I do in my own cabin, so I try to give the pack some alone time in the morning.”

“But you’re pack, too,” Grady protests.

Leif fiddles with his spoon. “But I’m not a bondmate. It’s good for them to have private time.”

I tear my bread into smaller pieces than necessary before asking as casually as I can, “How’s the cabin otherwise? Settling in all right?”

His shoulders tense a little, though a cabin on the island had always been part of his job as a nanny and tutor. “It’s starting to feel lived in. The bookshelf has books on it, and the shoe rack’s getting a lot of use with my muddy boots.”

“Glad to hear it,” I say before I can stop myself. “You built them both well.”

“We built them well,” Leif says, his knee brushing my leg under the table again and not moving away this time. “We work well together.”

The table goes quiet for half a second.

Grady glances at me, and Jared clears his throat. “What do you think of that spoon you’re holding?”

Leif’s brow creases, and he lifts the spoon in his hand to study it, then turns to me with a question written across his face. “Did you carve these?”

I arch an eyebrow. “Why? You don’t think they’re my style?”

“No,” he rushes out, his knee moving away again. “They’re very…well-made.”

A laugh escapes me. “Yeah, they came out well.”

“Actually, it’s very...” He searches for the word, his lips twitching. “Professional.”

Jared puffs up in mock offense. “Excuse me. I spent weeks whittling these spoons. My blood and sweat went into them.”

“What an appetizing picture you paint,” Grady murmurs as he takes another bite of stew.

Jared waves his spoon in front of Grady’s nose. “Take a good look. Everyone is getting spoons as gifts this year.”