Chapter 23 Beau
TWENTY-THREE
beau
@BullRidingForever: ONE RIDE from history. Beau McCrea is inevitable at this
point.
@BeauMcCreaThirst: The way that man looked in those Wranglers tonight…
@ChampionshipTracker: He’s winning finals. Not even a question. Fourth championship incoming.
@RodeoNewsNow: McCrea looking unstoppable. But who IS she?? Anyone got a name yet?
@FinalsBound2024: Beau McCrea + Finals = Championship. It’s basically a law of nature at this point.
When I woke to find her gone from my bed, my Alpha was definitely not okay. The panic only subsided when I found her nestled in Charlie’s arms, safe and content. A weight settled in my chest, primal satisfaction at knowing she was with pack, even if it wasn’t with me.
I went downstairs to get coffee before checking the horses, overly pleased to find the scent of her and Charlie literally everywhere. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what sort of activities made our entire house smell like her vanilla custard and buttercup scent.
The memory of her sweetness still lingers on my tongue. I am definitely becoming addicted to how she tastes. And when I finally get to sink into her, locking her on my knot, it will come with a promise of forever and a bite making it permanent.
Fuck, just the thought makes me euphoric and hard as hell.
Charlie and Willa come downstairs, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m fucking worked up. Nothing prepares me to see our Omega descending the stairs in one of our shirts, lips swollen and kiss-bruised.
The glimpse of exposed skin of her bare thighs below the huge shirt sends me right back to last night, and I can smell the sharp spike of slick still clinging to her skin.
The sight of her and that shy expression makes me want to do incredibly dirty things to her.
Fuck, get it together, McCrae.
The morning passes in a blur that has my Alpha on high alert for entirely different reasons than I’m used to.
She’s in my kitchen. She moves through the space like she’s testing whether she belongs, tentative but hopeful, and my Alpha settles with satisfaction.
Yes. Here. Ours. Keep her.
I never realized how much I wanted this until it was her. Other women have been in my life, hookups that never went anywhere, but none of them made my chest feel like it was cracking open. None of them made my Alpha settle and rage all at once, desperate to keep and protect and claim.
None of them smelled right.
But Willa does. God, she smells perfect—like she was made to fit into the spaces between us, to complete our pack and fill a blankness that has always been there but I never knew about.
And now that I’ve had her here, I’m never letting her go.
Jake’s at the stove making pancakes, and I’m setting the table, stealing bites of bacon because I can’t stand still. Can’t stop moving. Can’t stop watching her as she hovers in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes tracking each of us.
Her small hands are covered by her cuffs, which she has tucked into her fist. A nervous gesture, I think. Her hesitation makes me restless, my Alpha instinct demanding I soothe her, make her comfortable.
Charlie pours juice and coffee, and Willa just… stands there. Looking lost and found all at once.
“Sit,” Jake commands, pointing at the table with his spatula. “You’re making me nervous hovering like that.”
“I could help—”
I move before I think about it, coming up behind her and steering her toward a chair. My hands settle on her shoulders, and I have to resist the urge to bury my face in her neck.
“You could sit. And let us take care of you.”
The words come out rougher than I intend, but I mean them with every fiber of my being. Let us take care of you. Let us keep you. Let us make sure you never leave.
Breakfast is chaos—the good kind. Jake and I bicker about pancake-to-bacon ratios like we always do. Charlie steals food off everyone’s plates with that shit-eating grin of his. And Willa relaxes and laughs, the sound bright and unguarded, and I feel it everywhere.
This. I want this. Every morning. For the rest of my life.
Buttercup—the rascally little Pomeranian that Charlie insists isn’t his dog but who somehow ends up sleeping in his bed most nights—is dancing around Willa’s feet, yapping excitedly as she announces she needs to go home.
At the growl of disapproval I can’t hide, she just laughs.
“I have to change,” she says, gesturing down at herself, bare legs on full display.
“I need to prepare for tomorrow, remember work? The final qualifiers? You,” she makes a ridiculous gesture with her hands, mimicking a lasso motion, “bull…? And I can’t exactly show up to work in only a T-shirt, as hilarious as that might be. ”
She’s trying to sound light, teasing even, but I can feel the edge of anxiety creeping into her scent. The buttercup sweetness going slightly sharp, slightly acrid—like flowers left too long in stagnant water. There’s a tightness around her eyes, a brittleness to her laugh that makes my chest ache.
My Alpha stirs, uneasy. Something’s wrong. Our Omega needs us.
“Hey,” Jake says gently, stepping closer. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Nothing.” She waves him off, but her scent tells a different story. “Just… tomorrow’s a big deal. The final qualifiers. I need to have my head on straight.”
“Your head is always on straight,” Charlie says, scooping up Buttercup before the little menace can trip anyone. “You’re the most put-together person I know.”
“That’s a low bar considering present company,” she shoots back, but there’s no real bite to it.
“Ouch.” Charlie presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’m a delight.”
“You’re a disaster with good hair,” Jake corrects.
“Hey, my organizational system is—”
“Chaos incarnate?” I offer.
Willa laughs—a real one this time—and some of that sharp edge in her scent softens.
“Come on,” I say, jerking my head toward the stairs. “Go get dressed, and we’ll drive you home. You can prep everything you need before we leave for Denver. Get some sleep, and we’ll see you bright and early.”
“Bright is debatable at five-thirty a.m.,” she mutters, but she’s already moving toward the stairs.
Ten minutes later, we all pile into Charlie’s Land Rover for the drive over to Willa’s. Jake and I both head for the back seat at the same time, wanting to claim a spot next to Willa.
“Shotgun, Jake,” Charlie calls out cheerfully. Trying to keep things orderly.
“Fuck that,” Jake says immediately, giving me a pointed look.
“Yeah, not happening,” I agree.
Charlie just grins at us in that infuriating way of his. “Didn’t think so.”
Willa slides into the back seat first, settling in the middle, and immediately comments on the tight fit. “Good grief, how are two massive Alphas even supposed to fit back here? This is ridiculous.”
“We’ll make it work,” Jake says, wedging himself in on one side.
“Cozy,” I add, climbing in on her other side. The space is tight—our shoulders pressed together, her thigh warm against mine. I can feel every breath she takes, every slight shift of her body.
Before she can say anything else, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. With her soft body pressed against me, without conscious thought, without planning, I start to purr.
Low and steady, the sound rumbling up from my chest like distant thunder. It’s pure instinct—my Alpha trying to soothe our Omega, trying to calm the anxiety I can feel building in her like a storm gathering strength.
She goes still for half a second, and then melts into me. Just completely relaxes, her body seeking the comfort my purr offers like a flower turning toward the sun.
Her head finds the curve of my shoulder, her hand splays across my chest, and she cuddles into my side with a soft, contented sigh that makes something possessive and tender twist in my chest.
“That’s nice,” she murmurs softly, tentatively. Almost shyly. “I had no idea Alphas could… I’ve never felt it before.”
The admission hits me like a fastball to the chest. She’s never had an Alpha purr for her? Never had anyone try to comfort her Omega this way? Not even Jake?
I glance up and catch Jake’s expression—pure envy written across his face as he watches her snuggled against me. In the rearview mirror, Charlie’s eyes flick back to us, and I can see the same longing there, the same wish that he could be the one holding her.
“Get used to it, love,” I say, keeping my voice low so it doesn’t disturb the purr. “This is what you get now.”
“Three overprotective Alphas who purr at me?” she asks, a smile in her voice.
“Among other things,” Jake says, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from her face. His fingers linger, and I don’t miss the way she leans into the touch.
Charlie pulls out onto the road, and I increase the vibration in my chest, feeling her sink even deeper into relaxation. Her scent is already starting to even out, the acrid notes of anxiety fading under the influence of pack presence and Alpha comfort.
What kind of life has she been living?
I meet Charlie’s eyes in the mirror again, and his expression has shifted from teasing to something softer. Understanding. He nods slightly, and I know we’re all thinking the same thing—how the fuck did she survive this long without a pack to care for her?
“You like that?” I murmur against her hair, increasing the vibration in my chest. She makes a soft, contented sound that shoots straight to my cock, but I ignore it.
Jake shifts closer on her other side, adding his own scent to the mix—chocolate and warm spices wrapping around us both.
But by the time we pull up to her house, we spill out onto her driveway, the autumn air cool against my skin. It’s a short walk to her porch, but the comfort from moments ago evaporates, and the anxiety I’d scented earlier has come back worse.
Jake’s nose wrinkles, and I can see the concern etched deep in Charlie’s face.