Page 9 of My Three Hometown Alphas

Get your shit together, Avery. He’s your boss.I am me, though, so…

“Sorry, you’re nice to look at,” I say casually.

His eyes dart between me and the road four times in quick succession, like he can’t quite believe I just said that. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words come out.

He’s probably going to yell at me or turn around and take me back to the airport. I’m shocked when his head falls back against the headrest, and he starts to laugh. It’s a deep raspy sound that sends a shiver up my spine.

There’s a smile on his face when he briefly locks his eyes with mine. “You’re a little rebel, aren’t you?”

I shrug because he isn’t wrong. That part of me has been put on pause for the greater part of the last four years, while I was taking care of my dad, but it’s still there.

Maybe that part of me can come out of hiding again.

“What did I get myself into?” he groans, running his hand over his trimmed beard.

He doesn’t sound mad, though. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say he’s apprehensive with a touch of amusement thrown in the mix.

“I’ll be good. I promise,” I say in my most innocent voice. It almost sounds believable, even to my ears.Almost.

There’s a slight shake of his head with his mouth upturned at the corner. “I’ll believe that when I see it. You being a good girl doesn’t really seem to fit all that well.”

“Good girl.” Fuck me.

It should be illegal for a man who looks like him to say words like that, especially when you’re in a small, confined space with him.

“Well, you don’t know me all that well, Mr. Kingston. Maybe I’m not a rebel in all... settings,” I say after contemplating the final word for a second.

He drags in a deep breath, closing his eyes for far longer than he probably should, since he’s still cruising the interstate that winds its way into the mountains.

He looks like he’s fighting a battle within himself. What that battle is, I’m not quite sure.

My head swivels from side to side as Will drives into Aspen Springs. It’s the cutest town I’ve ever seen. Quaint historic buildings with a few modern touches line the road.

I roll down my window, soaking in the smell of fresh mountain air. The peaks that seemed so far away from Denver are now right there, like you could reach out and touch them.

Will slows the truck, pointing to his left. “That’s the hardware store my family owns.”

There’s a big sign that reads Kingston Hardware above the building.

“You run it with your two brothers, right?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, Owen is there wrapping things up for the day. Miles is at home with Lyla right now.”

Owen.

I’ve only heard that name a few times over the last four years, but every time I can’t keep myself from thinking about the stranger I stumbled into in the Dallas airport all those years ago.

Wherever he is now, I hope he’s happy, no matter what his life looks like.

Will continues a little farther through town, driving into a more residential area. He turns into a driveway in front of a large brown house with white shutters.

“Home sweet home,” he says, shifting the truck into park. He points to the side of the house where a small building sits. “The guesthouse will be yours for the next few months. I’ll help you get your stuff out there later, but you can come meet everyone else now.”

“Okay,” I say, climbing out of the truck. A wave of nerves rolls through me. I hope Lyla likes me.

Will must sense my hesitation because he pauses on the porch. “Don’t be nervous. Lyla’s great. I promise.”

“Aren’t you obligated to say that? She’s your kid,” I say, smiling up at him.