Page 50 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas (Hollow Haven #2)

The morning sun streamed through the barn doors with the kind of golden intensity that made everything look like a photograph waiting to be taken.

I stood in what would soon be my expanded studio space, watching Rhett and Wes measure walls and discuss load-bearing requirements, and felt the deep satisfaction of watching dreams become concrete plans.

“What do you think about skylights?” Rhett asked, looking up from his notebook where he’d been sketching modification ideas. “Natural light for photography, but positioned so they won’t create glare issues.”

“That would be incredible,” I said, already imagining how the changing light throughout the day would affect my work. “Are you sure it’s possible?”

“Everything’s possible,” he said with the confidence of someone who’d spent his entire life making impossible things happen. “It’s just a matter of engineering and patience. Though I might want to run the structural plans by Jonah Maddox, he’s the best contractor in town.”

“Kit’s alpha?” I asked, recognizing the name from our conversations about the local pack.

“The same. And Reed’s got experience with custom builds too. Between the three of us, we can make this barn into anything you want.”

“We’re not in any rush,” Wes added from his position near the windows. “This is our forever home. We can take the time to do it right.”

Forever home. The words still sent shivers of wonder through me. Six weeks ago, I’d thought forever was something that happened to other people. Now I was planning expansions and renovations for a life I’d never imagined I could have.

"What about the nest room?" Elias asked, appearing in the doorway with four cups of coffee arranged on a tray. "Any thoughts on modifications there?"

"Bigger," I said immediately, making all three alphas grin. "And maybe a reading nook by the windows. Somewhere I can curl up with a book when I need quiet time."

"Private access to the garden," Wes suggested. "For when you want fresh air without having to go through the main house."

"Built-in storage for comfort items," Rhett added, his practical mind already working through the details.

"And better temperature controls," Elias concluded. "Something that can adjust automatically based on seasonal heat patterns."

The casual way they discussed my comfort and needs, like ensuring my happiness was the most important engineering challenge they'd ever face, made my chest tight with emotion.

This was what love looked like in practice.

Not grand gestures or dramatic declarations, but careful attention to the details that would make daily life better.

"What about space for all of us?" I asked, settling into the window seat with my coffee. "I know I need a nest room, but I also want a bedroom that belongs to all four of us."

"Master suite expansion," Rhett said immediately. "Bigger bed, more storage, maybe a sitting area where we can all relax together."

"And a bathroom that can actually accommodate four people getting ready at the same time," Wes added with a laugh.

"Speaking of building our future," I said, pulling out my phone to show them the email I'd received that morning, "the gallery in Millfield wants to offer me a solo show.

Three months to put together a cohesive collection, with full marketing support and a professional photographer to document the opening. "

The silence that followed was profound, all three of them processing what this opportunity meant for my career and our life together.

"That's incredible," Elias said finally. "A solo show is huge for any photographer, but especially for someone just returning to the field."

"What kind of timeline are they looking for?" Wes asked, his analytical mind already working through logistics.

"Six months from contract signing to opening night," I said. "Which gives me time to develop a theme, shoot new work if needed, and prepare everything properly."

"What's your instinct about the theme?" Rhett asked. "What story do you want to tell?"

I looked around this place that had become my home, at the three men who’d become my world, and felt the answer settle into place with perfect clarity.

“Wildlife conservation,” I said simply. “The connection between protecting habitat and the creatures that call it home. What it looks like when animals find their place in the natural world.”

“That’s perfect,” Elias said with understanding. “Your photography has always been about capturing the relationship between living things and their environment.”

“Exactly,” I said, excitement building as the vision became clearer. “I want to document the species Wes works to protect. Show people why conservation matters through the beauty and vulnerability of the animals themselves.”

I nodded firmly to myself as a sense of resolve set in.

“So I’m doing it,” I said, looking between all three of them with growing excitement. “The gallery show, the conservation theme, all of it.”

“That’s incredible,” Wes said, pride clear in his voice. “Your work could help people understand what we’re fighting to save.”

“We’ll support you however we can,” Elias added. “Whatever you need to make this happen.”

“What about you guys and your careers?” I asked. “Are you happy with how things are? Do you want to expand or change anything?”

“I love my work,” Wes said firmly. “Protecting the local environment, managing wildlife populations. It’s exactly what I’m meant to be doing.”

“And I’ve got more business than I can handle,” Rhett added. “Good clients, interesting projects, work that challenges me without consuming my life.”

“The apothecary is thriving,” Elias said with satisfaction. “I’m helping people, building connections with the community. What more could I want?”

“So we’re all exactly where we want to be,” I said, understanding settling into place.

“Exactly,” Wes said. “We don’t need to chase the next big thing. We have what matters.”

The afternoon dissolved into detailed planning sessions for both the gallery collection and the cabin expansion. By evening, we had sketches for the barn studio, a preliminary timeline for my photography project, and a shared understanding of how we wanted our future to unfold.

“I should probably check on Cassian again,” Wes said as we finished dinner. “Just want to make sure he’s settling in okay.”

“Give him our best,” I said, and the others nodded in agreement. A part of me wanted to go with him but maybe Cassian would feel more comfortable talking to Wes if it was just the two of them.

When Wes returned an hour later, there was tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there when he’d left.

“Everything okay?” I asked, looking up from the photos I’d been editing.

“Cassian wasn’t home,” Wes said, running a hand through his hair. “His car’s gone, and I asked around town but no one has seen him all day. I drove around but couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Maybe he just needed to get away for a while,” Elias suggested gently. “Process everything that’s happened.”

“Maybe,” Wes said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I just hope he’s not doing anything drastic. Losing your entire family support system overnight can make people desperate.”

“He seemed stable when you talked to him yesterday,” Rhett pointed out.

“He did,” Wes agreed. “But you never know how someone’s really handling things until they’re alone with their thoughts.”

I could feel his worry through our bond, the way his protective instincts extended beyond just our pack to anyone who might need help. It was one of the things I loved most about him.

“Want me to drive around with you tomorrow?” I offered. “Check some of the hiking trails or scenic spots where someone might go to think?”

“I’d appreciate that,” he said, settling beside me on the couch. “For now, I guess there’s nothing more we can do tonight.”

After that, the three of us settled into our quiet evening routine. Rhett worked on construction sketches while Elias prepared herbal blends. I edited photos, occasionally asking for opinions on composition or lighting.

It was domestic and peaceful and absolutely ordinary in the best possible way, though I could still sense Wes’s underlying concern about Cassian

“Can I ask you something?” I said as we prepared for bed.

“Anything,” Elias said, speaking for all of them.

“Do you ever miss it? The way things were before? When you didn’t have to consider anyone else’s needs or schedules or dreams?”

They exchanged a look that held entire conversations, the kind of wordless communication that came from deep emotional connection.

“Do you miss being hungry?” Rhett asked finally.

“What?”

“Do you miss the feeling of being hungry? Not just wanting food, but that hollow, empty sensation that comes from real need?”

“Of course not,” I said, confused by the comparison.

“That’s what being alone felt like,” he said simply. “Hungry. Empty. Like something essential was missing but I didn’t know what it was.”

“I miss the simplicity sometimes,” Wes said thoughtfully when he returned. “Making decisions that only affected me, not having to worry about whether my choices might hurt people I love.”

“But?” Elias prompted, knowing there was more.

“But I don’t miss the loneliness,” Wes continued. “I don’t miss coming home to an empty house, or having amazing experiences with no one to share them with. I don’t miss the feeling that my life didn’t really matter to anyone.”

“What about you?” I asked Elias.

“I miss the illusion of independence,” he said with a small smile. “The belief that I was complete on my own, that I didn’t need anyone else to be happy.”

“Illusion?”

“Because it was never true,” he said gently. “I was just good at convincing myself that isolation was a choice rather than a defense mechanism.”

“And now?”

“Now I wake up every morning knowing that my happiness is tied to yours,” he said simply. “That my choices affect people I love, and their choices affect me. It’s more complicated, but it’s also more real.”

“More meaningful,” Rhett added.

“More alive,” Wes concluded.

“What about us?” I asked, settling into my favorite position surrounded by all three of them. “Are we strong enough to do the work?”

“What work?” Rhett asked.

“The work of being happy,” I said. “Of believing we deserve this. Of building something that lasts.”

“We’ve been doing that work every day since we met you,” Wes said softly. “Every choice to trust instead of defend, every decision to stay instead of run, every moment we choose love over fear.”

“And it’s working,” Elias added. “Look around. Look at what we’ve built together.”

I did look around. At the cabin that was becoming our forever home. At the three men who’d somehow convinced me that I was worth loving. At the future we were planning together, full of art and conservation work and shared adventures.

“This isn’t a bond built from instinct,” I said softly, remembering something I’d thought weeks ago. “It’s one we chose.”

“Every day,” Rhett agreed. “We choose each other every day.”

“And tomorrow?” I asked.

“Tomorrow we choose each other again,” Wes said simply. “And the day after that, and the day after that.”

“For as long as you’ll have us,” Elias concluded.

“Forever then,” I said, settling deeper into their warmth. “I choose all of you, forever.”

As I drifted toward sleep, surrounded by the scents and sounds and absolute safety of pack, I thought about transformation one last time.

How sometimes the most important changes weren’t dramatic revelations or sudden shifts, but slow, steady accumulation of ordinary moments that added up to extraordinary love.

I’d come to Hollow Haven broken and afraid, convinced I didn’t deserve good things.

I was falling asleep as part of a pack, completely bonded to three alphas who loved me enough to center their entire lives around our shared happiness, planning a future dedicated to protecting the wild spaces and creatures we all loved.

It was the most extraordinary ordinary moment of my life. And tomorrow, I’d get to have another one. This was our forever, and it was beautiful.