Page 19 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas (Hollow Haven #2)

Rhett

I was cleaning up my tools for the day when my phone buzzed with a text from Elias.

Just left Willa’s after helping with suppressant crisis. She’s stable but had a rough afternoon. Thought you’d want to know. Might appreciate a check-in later if you’re free.

I stared at the message, my alpha instincts immediately shifting into high alert. Suppressant failure was serious business, especially for an omega who was already dealing with stress and adjustment to a new environment.

How bad? I typed back.

Manageable now, but she was pretty shaken. Wes and I stayed for a while to talk. She’s doing better but probably shouldn’t be alone tonight.

Without thinking twice, I locked up the garage and headed for my truck. Willa might not want company, but she definitely shouldn’t go without eating just because she felt terrible. And if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was provide practical support.

Maggie’s Diner was getting ready to close when I walked in, but Maggie herself was still behind the counter.

“Rhett,” she said with a smile. “Little late for dinner, isn’t it?”

“Actually, I need some takeout. Comfort food. Someone’s had a rough day and probably hasn’t eaten.”

Maggie’s expression immediately softened with understanding. “Ah. What can I get you?”

“Chicken and dumplings if you have any left. Maybe some of that cornbread. And soup. Something easy on the stomach.”

“Coming right up. This for that sweet omega girl who’s been working at Hollis’s place?”

Small towns. Everyone knew everyone’s business, but at least it came from a place of caring.

“Yeah,” I said. “She’s had some medical issues today. Figured she could use a proper meal.”

“You’re a good man, Rhett Callahan,” Maggie said, already packing containers with generous portions. “She’s lucky to have people looking out for her.”

Twenty minutes later, I was standing on Willa’s front porch with enough food to feed three people, trying to work up the nerve to knock. Her house looked small and lonely in the evening light, one window glowing warmly but the rest dark.

She might not want to see anyone. Especially not after the day she’d had.

But Elias had thought she shouldn’t be alone, and my protective instincts were in full agreement. Even if she didn’t want company, she needed to eat.

I knocked softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Rhett?” Her voice came through the door, surprised but not unwelcoming.

“Yeah. Brought dinner. Figured you might not feel up to cooking after today.”

The door opened, and I got my first look at her since the suppressant crisis. She was pale, her hair loose around her face, wearing soft clothes that looked like they were chosen for comfort rather than appearance. But her eyes were clearer than I’d expected, and she wasn’t shaking at least.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, but she was looking at the food containers with obvious interest.

“I know. But Maggie’s chicken and dumplings fix most problems, and I figured you probably hadn’t eaten.”

“I haven’t,” she admitted. “I was too nauseous earlier, and then I just… forgot.”

“Well, now you don’t have to think about it. I can just leave this with you if you want to be alone, but there’s enough for two if you want company.”

Willa looked at me for a long moment, clearly debating. Then she stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Stay,” she said quietly. “I could use the company.”

Her living room was small but tidy, with soft blankets scattered around like she’d been making a nest of sorts. The air still carried traces of chamomile and lavender from whatever scent work Elias had done, mixed with her own jasmine and summer rain signature that was stronger than usual.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as we settled at her small kitchen table with the food.

“Better. Shaky still, but not like I’m going to pass out.” She took a tentative bite of the chicken and dumplings and sighed with obvious relief. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and I watched some of the tension leave her shoulders as the warm food did its work.

“Elias said he and Wes stayed for a while after he helped with the medical stuff,” I said carefully.

“They did. They were both really kind about the whole thing.” Willa looked up at me, something vulnerable in her expression. “I told them about my background. About the wildlife photography I used to do.”

“That must have felt good. Sharing something that matters to you.”

“It did. And scary. But they both understood why it was important, why losing it hurt so much.” She paused, stirring her soup absently. “Wes offered to show me some local wildlife spots where I could practice if I ever want to try photographing again.”

“That was thoughtful of him.”

“It was.” Willa was quiet for a moment, then looked at me directly. “Rhett, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you all talk about me? You, Wes, and Elias?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard, but I could see she needed honesty.

“We’ve talked,” I said carefully. “About making sure we’re not making you uncomfortable by all being interested in you at the same time.”

“All being interested,” she repeated. “So it’s not just me reading too much into things.”

“It’s not just you.” I set down my spoon and looked at her seriously. “Willa, I don’t know what your previous alpha told you about how these things work, but you don’t have to choose between us. You don’t even have to choose anyone if you don’t want to.”

“But what if I do want to?” The question came out small and uncertain. “What if I like all of you in different ways and I don’t know how to navigate that?”

There it is, I thought. She’s feeling something for all of us and doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Then you take your time figuring it out,” I said. “There’s no timeline, no pressure. Some omegas prefer one alpha, some prefer multiple. Some don’t want alphas at all. Whatever feels right for you is what we’ll support.”

“Even if that means sharing?”

The question hung between us, loaded with implications. I thought about the conversation at The Tumble Mug, the way we’d all agreed to put her needs first.

“Even if that means sharing,” I confirmed. “Though I’ll be honest, the idea of pack dynamics scares the hell out of me. I’ve never been good at the social stuff, never wanted to have to coordinate with other people or worry about territories and hierarchies.”

“Then why would you consider it?”

I looked at her sitting across from me, brave enough to ask direct questions even after the day she’d had, and felt something shift in my chest.

Because you’re worth changing for , I thought.

“Because I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want the chance to be important to you,” I said, the words coming out more honest than I’d intended.

“I don’t care if that’s as friends, or pack members, or something else entirely.

I just want to be someone you trust, someone you turn to when you need help or comfort or just someone to bring you dinner when you’ve had a terrible day. ”

She looked at me like I’d just handed her the world. Like no one had ever told her she got to choose what love looked like.

Willa stared at me for a long moment, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I’m not ready to make any decisions,” she said quietly. “About relationships or pack bonds or anything like that. I’m still figuring out who I am without someone else controlling what I’m allowed to want.”

“Then don’t make any decisions. Just exist. Just heal. Just let us be here while you figure things out.”

“And if I never want anything romantic? If I just want friendships?”

“Then that’s what we’ll be. Good friends who bring you soup when you’re sick and help you carry groceries and celebrate when good things happen to you.”

“And if I want more than that?”

I reached across the table and covered her hand with mine, noting how small her fingers looked against my palm.

“Then we’ll figure out what more looks like. Together. At your pace, according to your rules.”

She turned her hand over so our palms touched, and I felt the simple contact like an electric shock.

“I like you, Rhett,” she said softly. “I like Wes and Elias too, in different ways. I wanted you to know that, even if I’m not ready to do anything about it yet.”

“I like you too,” I said. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone. And I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you to figure out what you want that to mean.”

We finished dinner talking about smaller things. Her job at the bookstore, my work at the garage, the way small towns felt different from cities. Normal conversation that felt profound because she was sharing it with me willingly, without walls or defensiveness.

When I got up to leave, she walked me to the door and surprised me by hugging me briefly.

“Thank you,” she said. “For dinner, for honesty, for making this feel less scary.”

“Anytime,” I said, and meant it completely.

Driving home, I thought about patience and possibility and the way some connections were worth waiting for. Willa might not be ready for pack bonds or romantic relationships, but she was ready to trust us with her vulnerability.

I fired off a quick text to the others to let them know I’d just left her and she was doing fine. It took me a moment to register not only that I’d done it but how natural it all felt.

Maybe packs weren’t something to worry about changing yourself to make work. Maybe, it just took finding the right people to form a pack with and you all just slotted together naturally.