With my cell phone in hand, I slip through the door next to the kitchen and find a perch on the top porch step because Iwill absolutely fall asleep within five minutes if I settle on that antique-looking rocking chair.
Birds trill, and there’s a nice cool breeze. It’s still warm this late morning, but better than the uncomfortably sticky heat I was grateful to leave behind in Weldon.
The phone rings twice, which is one more than I expected.
“If this isn’t my neglectful daughter that I was ready to go out huntin’ for, I don’t want to know who it is,” a male voice booms down the phone, and a smile spreads across my face at my dad, Bryan’s greeting.
My mom, an omega like me, is a florist, and my two dads, both alphas, are mechanics who’d just opened their auto repair shop in Weldon after moving from Nashville when my mom walked in with a car that kept breaking down. She said it was love at first sight. Trey said he was terrified of getting any closer to her in case she smelled his sweat from a stressful morning. Bryan demanded to know if she had an alpha. Trey smacked him on the back of the head and told him that was no way to court a woman. After Mom stopped laughing, she agreed to a date at the movie theater. I came along two years later, and the rest is history.
“Dad, you cannot answer the phone like that. What if it was someone important?”
A huff sounds down the phone, and it’s easy to picture him scratching his dark-blond beard with grease-stained fingers, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “Then I’d tell them to get themselves off my line in case my daughter, whom I miss and love very much, was tryin’ to get through.”
I smile. “Hey, Dad. How is everyone?”
Mom will be busy at the flower shop this mid-morning, and Trey is likely out picking up a broken-down car to bring to their auto repair shop. If Trey were there, Bryan would have put the phone on loudspeaker so I could talk to him too.
My family held me together so well that I would have completely fallen apart after Simon died. Without them, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to start this road trip at all. I’d be curled up in my nest, soaking every pillow I have with my tears.
“Hey, honey,” he says, all the love in the world in his voice. “We’re all laughing, thriving, and working hard, same as always. How’s that road trip going?”
If Pack Lowe had a motto, it would be: Laughing, thriving, and working hard. I grew up hearing it all throughout my childhood.
“Slow and dusty, but there’s been some nice sights on the way.”
I’m not thinking of statues and old buildings, or even about Rios, as pretty as this small town is. But about my scent match, who I’m creeping through entryways to avoid because I want to touch him so bad. About a firefighter who I’m certain was flirting with me when I slid into the booth where he was watching my son. And a short-order cook who became my son’s best friend and my hero in record time.
“Well, your mom’s busy with flowers for a wedding, and Trey’s gone to save an idiot who got himself stranded on the side of the road. But they’re missing you and Little Biscuit as much as I am.”
I grin at Dad’s nickname for Ben, which came about during the holidays when he was little, and Dad caught him trying to eat a biscuit he said was bigger than he was. It had us all howling with laughter. Ben loves it as much as I do. Except before we left Memphis, Ben barely smiled. He was quiet and sad, missing his daddy.
“You shouldn’t call your customers idiots, Dad,” I say, and not for the first time.
Bryan is big, loud, and will undercharge a person every chance he gets. Trey is quieter, serious, and handles all the paperwork for the auto repair shop. Both are overprotective as hell, and I love them to death.
“They know I don’t mean it. How’s Ben liking the trip?”
“He’s having a great time.”
He hums. “That’s good to hear, honey. And you? You back to smilin’ again?”
I look down at my sneakers, tempted to lie but knowing I won’t about this. My future is still up in the air. I was so sad to leave my parents, but I wanted them to be happy instead of spending all their time worrying about me. Leaving was the right thing to do, at least then. But now? I’m not sure about any of it.
“I’m getting there, Dad.”
“That’s all I care about. That you're driving safely and taking plenty of breaks.”
I reflect on my morning sickness that caused us to pull off the road and stop in a tiny town where I met my scent match. What were the odds of that? A million to one? Ten million to one?
“I’m taking plenty of breaks from driving. We’re in Rios, this small town in Iowa.”
“Don’t remember that being on your map, honey,” he says mildly, though I detect the worry he’s trying to hide from me.
For two weeks, I pored over a map, stuck pins in it, and worked out exactly where we would stop along the way. And I promised my parents I would check in with them so they would know where we were. They probably memorized every place that Ben and I intended to stop.
“It was a spontaneous stop. It’s nice. Ben likes it too. He’s going to see a fire truck in the firehouse here and go to Lina, the diner waitress' son’s birthday party in a couple of days.”
“Then I’d say that boy is living his dream right about now. Fire trucks and cake…” He lets out a low whistle.
