My Three Hometown Alphas: A Spicy Small Town Reverse Harem Romance, page 6
Will follows behind him, still grumbling about her needing to be safe.
I’m grinning like a fool because this family makes me happy. Despite everything that should make me run for the hills, I’m smiling an awful lot lately.
Unbuckling, I scoot across the seat to the door Miles left open. Owen is standing there, taking up all the space between the side of the truck and the door.
I don’t even think about what I’m doing; my body just moves on its own. I twist on the seat so my thighs are now on either side of his hips.
His large hands settle on my bare thighs. One of his fingers teases at the frayed hem of my denim shorts.
“What are you doing?” I breathe out because my mind can barely formulate a coherent thought with his hands on me like this.
“Fuck if I know,” he says, shaking his head like he’s just as confused as I am.
Well, that’s some comfort, at least. Right?
His grip on my thighs tightens for a second before he slides his hands up to my hips. “Come on, angel.”
He lifts me from the truck like I weigh no more than a feather, setting me before him on the dirt lot.
Reaching down, he retrieves his bag from where he must have set it on the ground. He takes two steps toward the field, then pauses.
He looks at me over his shoulder, giving me a wink before continuing to walk away. I have to lean back against the truck to keep from melting to the ground.
What the fuck?
How am I going to stay away from these men if they’re going to do things like that? My heart is pounding, and certain parts of mine are tingling with awareness.
While things might not be the same between all three of the brothers, they have all contributed to this confused, horny state I currently find myself in.
“Ugh…” I groan, pushing off the truck and making my way toward the field.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Will
“No,” Lyla screeches when I slide the bookmark into the book we’ve been reading. “We have to read another chapter.”
“It’s late, kid. We already read four chapters.”
“But it’s my turn to read next. Don’t you want me to be a good reader?” she says with her most innocent smile.
Nice try, kid. I swear she’s going to be a lawyer when she grows up with her negotiating tactics.
“It’s bedtime,” I say firmly, trying to keep from smiling.
She flops back dramatically onto her pillow, and I have to fight an eye roll.
“I’m not going to be able to think about anything else until I know what happens,” she groans, pulling her blanket up over her.
“I guess you’ll have some good dreams trying to figure it out, then,” I say, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Love you, kid.”
She sighs and nestles her cheek against her purple pillowcase. “Love you, too.”
“Sleep well,” I say before closing her door.
The house is surprisingly quiet for eight o’clock at night. Miles went out for a late run and hasn’t gotten back yet, and Owen disappeared into his room shortly after dinner.
I walk by the main bedroom with an ensuite bathroom that still sits untouched, even though we’ve lived in this house for over two years.
When we moved in, none of us could decide who would take it. It’s a five-bedroom house, so there were enough other rooms for all of us.
I grab some clean clothes from my dresser. As I’m turning to go take a shower, something bright red catches my eye out the window.
Avery is wearing a bright red oversized hoodie. She’s hauling one of the chairs from her kitchen to the grass behind the guesthouse.
With her feet pulled up to her chest, she starts to read her book. The position doesn’t look that comfortable to me, but she seems content. Her dark hair is pulled back in a braid with several pieces blowing around her face in the breeze.
Every once in a while, she looks up from the device in her hand to the fading colors that are dusted across the sky over the mountains.
I blink back to reality, realizing I’ve been standing here staring at her for who knows how long. Quickly grabbing my pile of clothes from the bed, I book it into the bathroom and start the shower.
The hot water does little to divert my thoughts from her. If anything, it heightens my awareness. The urge to stroke my now-hard cock to filthy thoughts of her is strong, but I can’t do that.
She’s twelve years younger than me, for crying out loud.
I let my forehead fall against the cool tile, letting out a resigned sigh. I’m not the only male member of this household who’s taken an interest in Avery. That’s become very apparent over the last week.
Owen wasn’t entirely upfront about what happened between them years ago, but it’s obvious whatever it was isn’t entirely left in the past.
He seems a little lighter since she’s been here, though. There have been little glimpses of the brother I haven’t seen since the day Liv took her last breath.
Maybe she’s reminding him of who he was back then. Maybe she’s giving him a safe space to be that person again. I don’t know for sure, but whatever it is, I’m not going to fight it.
Then, there’s Miles. That idiot doesn’t go five minutes without flirting or messing with her—and unlike most the women I’ve seen him with, she gives it right back.
The fact that Avery is leaving in a few months doesn’t seem to faze my youngest brother at all. I feel like they’re a train barreling toward a crash, but…
I turn off the water, grabbing a towel.
It seems inevitable at this point that something is going to happen between Avery and one of my younger brothers. Hell, maybe even both of them.
A rush of unwanted feelings surge through me, jealousy being the heavy hitter.
Not my monkeys. Not my circus.
I pause, staring at my reflection in the mirror above the sink.
But they kind of are my monkeys, and it is my circus.
Fuck my life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Avery
Begrudgingly, I drag my running shorts up my legs. I’ve worn them many times, but never to actually to go on a run. While I work out regularly, running isn’t and never has been on the roster of activities I cycle through.
Knowing that I’m not going to impress anyone, Miles included, I throw on a cut-off T-shirt over my sports bra. I’m tying my shoes when there’s a knock on the door.
I swing it open, finding Miles standing there. A huge smile is plastered on his face. I stare back with the disdain I feel for the activity I’m being forced to participate in.
“It’s way too early for you to be that happy,” I say, leaning against the doorway.
He playfully rolls his eyes. “It’s never too early to be happy.”
I’m going to punch him in the face.
He grabs my hand, pulling me out onto the sidewalk. “The sooner we get started, the sooner you can be done.”
I groan, cursing myself for ever making that bet with him.
Lyla sets her empty cereal bowl in the sink, running up the stairs to get ready for the day.
“I bet she comes down in her white shirt with sunflowers on it,” Miles says, sipping his coffee at the table.
I lean my forearms on the counter. “Nah… she’s going to wear the bright pink one with the ruffles on the sleeves.”
I’m almost one-hundred-percent sure that’s what she’ll choose because she asked me to wash it for her yesterday. Am I going to tell him that? Nope.
“Care to make it interesting?” he says, moving into the kitchen until he’s only a foot in front of me.
I nod, confidence fueling the smirk plastered on my face.
“If I win, you have to go on a run with me,” he says. He smirks, obviously remembering my hatred for the act of running.
I can’t help but cringe, which makes him chuckle.
Asshole.
“Fine,” I say, and I only agree because I know I won’t actually have to go through with it.
I lean my chin against my hand, thinking about what I want to make him do. A million dirty ideas flash through my mind, but I quickly bat them away.
“If I win, you have to give me a massage,” I say.
This only makes his smile grow. Damn. I guess I didn’t think that through. That’s what I want though, so I don’t really care.
“Sounds like I win either way, gorgeous,” he says with that lazy smile that makes tingles shoot straight to my vagina.
Lyla’s feet pound across the floor above us. “Moment of truth,” he says, leaning against the counter beside me. We both stare at the stairs, waiting.
My jaw drops when her sunflower-covered shirt comes into view.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I feel betrayed for some unknown reason. Lyla had no idea this bet was even happening, and she’s a kid for heaven’s sake.
I really don’t want to look at Miles, but I force myself to twist my body toward him. The look on his face is even more irritating than I imagined.
“I guess I’m going to have a running buddy on Saturday morning,” he says, smugness dripping from every word.
Shaking my head, I snap back to the here and now.
I lock the door, walking to where Miles is standing on the grass. I silently follow along with all the stretches he’s doing, trusting his expertise.
“You’re actually going to kill me if you keep that glare up,” he says.
“Good.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go.”
He turns around, slowly running down the driveway. With one last deep breath, I follow behind him.
He glances at me over his shoulder. “You can run beside me. I won’t bite.”
“I might,” I mutter under my breath. He must hear me, though, because he rolls his eyes. He spins, so he’s running backwards.
What the fuck?
“Get up here. I won the bet. Remember?”
Fighting the urge to just tackle him, I move up to his side as we continue down the road. “I’m going to slow you down,” I tell him.
“I don’t care,” he says casually. “You’re here. That’s all that matters to me.”
Holy fuck.
Suddenly, this run went from being a silly punishment after a bet to something seemingly deeper. There’s a softness in his eyes when he glances at me. I just give him a small nod because what else am I going to say?
Miles has a flirty, goofy exterior, but he’s really a softy—a golden retriever through and through. And it seems each time I’m with him, I like him more and more.
Sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of my eyes, I suck in a sharp breath that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m currently jogging. It has everything to do with my growing feelings for this man.
I’m actually going to die. Miles is going to have to dig a hole on the side of this road to bury me in.
I pause, resting my hands on my knees. Sweat drips from my brow as I desperately try to suck in air. I’m sure I look like a hot fucking mess right now.
Miles stops, rubbing his hand on my back. “We only have, like, half a mile left,” he tells me. He isn’t even breathing hard, which makes me feel even more pitiful than I already do.
“How far have we already run?” I ask between jagged breaths. Thank fuck my lungs have adjusted to the altitude some over the last few weeks, or I would have perished a while ago.
“Three and a half miles.”
I jerk to stand all the way up, my eyes popping wide. “I ran that far?”
His smile almost looks like he’s proud of me. “I wasn’t going to go that far, but you were kind of killing it.”
“Shut up. I am definitely not killing it,” I say, sucking in another breath into my aching lungs.
“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug.
I grip the bottom of my shirt, pulling it over my head. “If I have to run any more, I can’t wear this damn shirt.” I feel like I’m suffocating inside of it.
His eyes dart from my stomach to my chest, and back up to my eyes. I would give him a snappy remark, but I’m really too tired to come up with anything decent.
He reaches behind his neck, pulling his shirt off. Now I’m the one staring at him.
I don’t even bother dragging my eyes away from his sculpted chest and abs. He’s just so pretty to look at. He’s lean, no doubt from all the running, but he’s also toned.
“Good to know I’m not the only one with a staring problem.” He laughs, grabbing my shirt from my hand. “Come on, gorgeous, let’s finish this.”
We run in silence all the way back to his house. I’m out of breath again, but I feel surprisingly happy.
I don’t want him to know that, though. He’d never let me hear the end of it.
I sprawl out on the grass and he stretches beside me. At some point, I must have closed my eyes because next thing I know he’s gently shaking me.
He grabs my hand, helping me stand. My hand remains in his, so I’m forced to follow along as he walks into the main house.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you your side of the bet, too.”
“A massage?” I ask. I wish I didn’t sound so damn hopeful.
He nods as we start walking up the stairs.
Laying down before stretching was probably not the best idea. Everything is already aching, I can only imagine how I’m going to feel come tomorrow morning when I peel myself out of bed.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, realizing the house is silent.
“They were all going to the store after Lyla got up.”
With his free hand, he opens his bedroom door. As I step inside, I realize I’ve never been in his room. I’ve been all over this house over the last month, but I’ve never been in here.
He guides me over to the queen-sized bed with a fluffy comforter covered in stripes of varying shades of gray. I kick off my shoes and socks and starfish across the bed.
I hear him laugh behind me, but I don’t turn to look. “Shut up,” I groan into the comforter.
There’s the sound of a drawer opening and closing, his shoes thudding against the floor, and then he’s climbing onto the bed.
He nudges my legs closer together so he can straddle my thighs. He scoots forward, and now he’s firmly pressed against my ass.
“Don’t get hard right now,” I say, keeping my face down.
“Refrain from wiggling that perfect ass against me, and I think I’ll manage,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss on my neck. I’m sure it’s a salty mess from all the sweating I did, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
I grind my ass back against him just once, biting my bottom lip.
“Avery…” The warning is clear in his tone.
“I’ll be good,” I say.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbles, like he really doesn’t believe me.
I don’t really believe me, either.
Suddenly, something cold and wet lands on the small of my back. My head jerks up, whipping around to look at him.
“Did you just squirt lube on me?” I ask in horror.
His eyes go from looking confused to elated as he bursts out laughing.
“The fuck are you laughing at?” I snap, staring at him awkwardly over my shoulder.
He barely pulls it together enough to hold up a bottle of massage oil.
Oh…
He opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is more bursts of laughter. I smother my face against the comforter, letting out a muted scream.
“If you’re going to scream in my bed, I would rather it be for other reasons,” he says. “Like, involving actual lube.”
Kill me now.
“Less talking. More massaging,” I grumble.
“Yes, gorgeous.”
He starts to work the gel into my lower back. It doesn’t take long before I’ve completely melted against his mattress. The aches from earlier are forgotten.
All I can focus on is the feeling of his strong hands massaging every available inch of me. The clothes I finished the run in stay on, but he diligently works around them.
When he presses a kiss against my shoulder and whispers something about being done, I can’t find the energy or will to move.
He lays down beside me, and I find myself mindlessly snuggling up beside him. My head rests against his chest that’s now covered in a T-shirt. My eyes flutter as his arm wraps around me.
The last thing I’m aware of is the sound of his heart beating beneath me and his fingers tracing lazily up and down my arm.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Owen
I’m sliding the last of the leftovers into the fridge when my phone rings with a familiar tone.
Damn. I really wanted to get some sleep tonight.
“Bye, Uncle Owen,” Lyla says from where she’s kneeling over the coffee table, coloring in one of her coloring books. She’s heard that specific sound enough times to know what it means.
I peek at the screen, tapping into the message. Just as I suspected, they need me to come in for a call about a missing hiker.
When I left the Army, Liv insisted I volunteer for the local Search and Rescue team. I was adamantly against it at first, but she was relentless.
I didn’t want to take any time away from her or Lyla. She wanted me to hold onto the piece of myself I was giving up when I gave up reenlisting.
All these years later, I’m grateful for her persistence. There are times like tonight when I don’t really want to go out, but I always feel alive when I’m out on a call and get to help people.
It isn’t the same as being in the Army, but I get to use a lot of the same skills I gained during that time of my life.
I jog up the stairs, changing out of my sweats and into more appropriate clothes. I grab my duffle that’s always packed and ready for these types of situations. Slinging it over my shoulder, I head downstairs.
