Page 7 of My Three Hometown Alphas

“Bye, Owen,” I say as I step around him.

I keep my eyes on him until I reach the check-in counter.

The lady grabs my ticket, scanning it on the machine. “May that kind of love find everyone,” she says with a wink. “You’re one lucky lady.”

I don’t even know what to say because he’s not mine, but when I glance over my shoulder, he’s still staring at me.

The ache that spreads through my heart makes me wish he could be.

CHAPTER ONE

Will

My phone ringswith Miles’s name flashing across the screen. I’m currently rushing toward the airport, so I press the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel to answer the call.

“Hey,” I say, looking over my shoulder to change lanes.

“Hey. Did you get the hot nanny yet?” he asks.

I swear to all things holy.

I want to throttle him sometimes. He might be twenty-nine now, but he’s still my little brother.

I’m not about to tell him that the new nanny is indeed gorgeous. That isn’t why I hired her. She was available on short notice, and willing to take the job for just the summer unlike the other people I interviewed.

I also thought she’d do a great job taking care of Lyla for the next few months so she isn’t stuck with us at our hardware store all summer.

“No, there was traffic on I-70, so I’m running a little late,” I say.

He sucks in a sharp breath. “The ever-meticulous Will Kingston is running late for once in his life. This must be eating you up inside.”

I just growl because it very much is. Disorder and tardiness are the bane of my existence.

“Get rid of the grumpiness now,” Miles says. “Don’t want to scare off hot nanny before she even gets in the truck.”

He doesn’t even know what she looks like, so I don’t know where he got the notion she’s hot. I was the only one on the video call when I interviewed her a week ago.

“Fuck off, Miles. Go do something productive.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

I slow the truck, looking for the door she said she was waiting at. Seeing the sign with a big number seven on it, I pull over.

At first, I don’t see her. Leaning over the middle console, I search up and down the sidewalk.

Finally, she steps out from the shadow of the building.

She’s wearing a pair of cut-off shorts with a black T-shirt that hugs curves I’m desperately trying not to stare at. Her right arm is covered in almost a full sleeve of tattoos. There are more peeking out from her high-top Converse that she’s marching toward me in.

I must make some kind of noise because Miles starts laughing over the line. I honestly forgot I was even on the phone with him.

“I take it you spotted the hot nanny and sheisactually hot,” he says through bursts of laughter.

“Bye, Miles.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he gets out before I hang up on him.

She taps on the passenger window.