Page 33 of My Three Hometown Alphas

With the new information, Finn and I come up with a plan. “I wish we could call Cole in to fly this thing,” he says, patting the side of the small aircraft sitting in the middle of the warehouse. “It’d make this a hell of a lot easier.”

“I wish,” I say, shaking my head. We only use the plane for very specific situations. With visibility rapidly decreasing outside, it would do us little good at this point, though.

Plus, neither Finn nor I could fly the damn thing. His older brother Cole is the only one currently licensed to fly it or any other plane.

“You scared your legs will give out on you?” I ask as we climb into his SUV. I’ve been on enough of these trips with him to know that his legs are definitely not going to fail him.

Finn, along with his brothers, is in impeccable shape. I guess that comes with the territory of running a lumber business and refusing to hire anyone else to do any of the labor.

“Fuck no,” he says, pulling out onto the main road. “You’re the one that’s going to have a problem.”

“We’ll see about that,” I say, shaking my head.

Very little light remains from the sun that set a while ago.

He spares me a quick glance before returning his focus to the road ahead. “You seem different. Happier,” he says.

I don’t say anything in return, but he’s sent my mind whirling.

Happier?

If Iamhappier, it doesn’t take a genius to pinpoint the source of said happiness.

A woman with a penchant for tattoos and dark colors…

I can’t get her out of my mind, not that I want to.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Avery

Prying back the curtain,I search the driveway. Owen’s truck is still gone. It’s now the middle of the night. He’s been gone for almost six hours.

The nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach has kept me up the entire time.

Most of it has been spent cleaning every inch of this small cottage. I swear my hands are going to be raw tomorrow with the amount of aggressive scrubbing I did.

When there was nothing left to clean, I resorted to pacing around the small living room and kitchen. I’ve been checking outside every few laps.

I push away the thought that something bad has happened to him.

It’s late. He’s hiking up a mountain in pitch darkness. I’m pretty sure my worry is warranted.

I mean, maybe some of it is fueled by the growing feelings I have for this man. Whatever it is, I can’t change the unsettled feeling blanketing me right now.

There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep tonight until I can see with my own two eyes that he’s okay.

My pacing continues for another hour. Two more hours. Just when I’m sure I’ll go bald from nervously running my fingers through my hair, the sound of tires crawling up the drive hits my ears.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I’m ripping my front door open and sprinting toward his truck. He’s not even fully out of his truck when I launch my whole body at him.

He grunts, instinctually wrapping his arms around me. He leans back against the doorframe so we don’t both go tumbling to the ground.

I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in. My lungs feel full for the first time in hours, since his truck drove out of view. My limbs squeeze around him even tighter, not wanting to chance him slipping away even for a second.

I should probably be concerned that I’m going to hurt him or cut off his oxygen supply at this point, but I can’t find it in me to care.

He’s here. He’s here.