Page 51 of My Three Hometown Alphas

“Okay,” I huff, reaching down to slide my shoes on.

“So, you’re coming?” he asks.

“Like I had a choice,” I say, motioning to the grump on my other side.

“Yes,” Lyla says from behind me. “Grandma makes the best food.”

“Hey,” Will says.

“Your food’s good, too,” she adds quickly. “But… Grandma’s is better.”

I’m pretty sure she didn’t want anyone else to hear that part, but we all did.

Will starts laughing as he backs down the driveway, clearly not offended by his niece’s words.

A fingertip trails down my neck, just behind my ear. Another round of shivers courses through me.

Owen.

He doesn’t say anything, but his thumb continues its path up and down across my skin. I lean into his touch, not wanting him to pull his hand away.

I am so screwed.

Gregory and Shana Kingston are probably the nicest people I’ve ever met. Within two minutes of walking into their home, they had both wrapped me in a warm hug and made sure I had a cold drink in my hand.

I might have been a little nervous before we got here, but they’ve made me feel like I’ve been here a hundred times before.

Now, I sit on the shaded deck on the porch swing, sipping a frozen margarita Shana made for me.

Lyla and Miles are filling up a bunch of water balloons with the hose. Owen and Will are gathered around the grill, talking to their dad while he grills the hamburgers and hot dogs.

Shana walks out through the sliding glass door with her own margarita in hand and sits down beside me.

She gently pats my leg. “I’m so glad you could be here, sweetheart.”

“Thanks for having me.”

She waves me off, like it’s nothing. To her, it probably is. To me, it means a lot.

I might have resisted coming when Will literally manhandled me into complying, but it’s nice to be around a family again. Even if they aren’t mine.

“You’re from Texas?” she asks.

“Austin, yeah.”

“I’ve only been there once, but it’s a great city. Are you going back after the summer?”

Austinisan awesome city, but it isn’tmycity anymore. Maybe when the grief of losing my dad isn’t as fresh, I’ll be able to appreciate all the little things that bring back memories of him.

But that time isn’t now. It’s too painful, too raw.

I shake my head. “No, I won’t be going back. At least not right now.” I have the urge to tell her more. “My dad died a few months ago, and it’s too painful to be there.”

“Oh, honey,” she says softly. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into her side. “I knew something had happened, but none of the boys would tell me anything specific.”

I let my head fall against her shoulder, soaking up her motherly comfort.

“Is your mom in the picture?” she asks, almost tentatively.