Chapter 30 #2
“Yep,” Seth says, and I want to scream with joy because I love this town.
The sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway cuts me off. We all turn to watch as a truck pulls up beside my car. It’s Seth’s father.
“Dad. What are you doing here?”
His father gets out of the truck, giving Seth a smile that appears strange on his face, not because it’s fake, but because I haven’t seen it often. “You think I’m missing this? I’ve waited a long damn time to see you settled, son.”
Then his attention shifts to me.
The look he gives me isn’t soft, exactly. It’s assessing, sure. But it’s also the kind of approval that doesn’t ask for permission. It says he’s already decided I belong here, whether I’m ready to believe it yet or not.
“June,” he says with a firm nod. “You’ve been good for him. For all of them. I’m glad they found you.”
I wipe my cheeks, still trying to pull myself together. “Thank you. I’m glad too.”
He clears his throat and turns back to Seth, the warmth still there, but tucked under that gruff tone he never fully drops. “I’ve got a gift. For all of you. Call it a housewarming.”
Seth’s shoulders go tight beside me.
His father reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thick envelope. When he hands it to Seth, it’s not casual. It has weight. Intent.
“I’m retiring,” he explains.
Seth just stares at him.
“The circuit,” his father continues, watching Seth closely. “It’s yours now. Legally, officially, completely. You and your pack run it however you see fit.”
Seth opens the envelope with hands that don’t shake, but they’re not steady either. He scans the paperwork once, then again, gaze moving faster the second time, as if he’s trying to find the catch hidden in the fine print. I watch his expression shift in real time: disbelief, shock.
“You’re… giving it to me?” he asks, voice rough.
“I’m acknowledging what’s been true for a long time. You’ve had the vision for this circuit for years. I dug my heels in because for too long I wanted it done my way. That stubbornness cost you time.”
Seth swallows, blinking hard once. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” His father gestures toward the ranch around us.
“Make this place the home base. Bring riders here. Change the schedule and build a circuit that doesn’t swallow your whole life.
You’ve got a pack now.” His gaze flicks to me, then returns to Seth.
“You’ve got a family. It’s time you stop living out of bags and motel rooms just because I did. ”
Carter and Kai exchange a look, both of them processing what this means in practical terms, not just emotionally. A life that doesn’t require constant running.
Seth glances up from the papers, and for a second, he appears younger than I’ve ever seen him, caught off guard in a way that strips the armor right off. “Thank you,” he manages. “Dad… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” His father’s mouth twitches. “Just don’t screw it up.” Silence. “I’m proud of you, son. I should’ve said that more.”
The quiet that follows isn’t awkward but heavy in a different way. Decades of tension shifting, not fixed, not erased, but finally acknowledged.
His father claps Seth on the shoulder and turns toward the house. “Now. Do I get to see your new place?”
Seth takes my hand, and we all step up onto the porch, where his dad says, “And don’t take too long giving me grandkids. I’m not getting any younger. I’m not too far away in Colorado if you need me.”
“Come on,” he says, offering me a loving smile. “Let’s go inside. We’ve got it ready.”
I let them guide me through the front door, still dazed and emotional. Is this real life?
The inside of the house is stunning, just as I remember it from when I came to take photographs for the sale. High ceilings, exposed beams, huge windows that let in floods of natural light. But it’s the living room that gets me every time.
Only it’s already set up, as if we aren’t the first people to ever set foot in here.
There’s a bar cart stocked and ready, bottles lined up, glasses polished, a hand-lettered sign that squeezes my chest. Platters of food cover every surface, the kind of spread you throw when you want people to stay awhile.
Decorations in soft colors that somehow perfectly embody me, not generic party-store nonsense, but chosen specifically for this party.
And the walls are covered in framed photos of me with my three Alphas, like we’ve been living our lives here for months instead of minutes.
Me pressed between them in front of the pyramids, perched on someone’s knee with a Scottish castle looming behind us, Kai throwing a grin at the camera with the Eiffel Tower over his shoulder, Carter looking annoyingly perfect beside some ancient ruin, Seth riding a horse, as he’s been superimposed on all the photos.
Then I finally notice the people.
“SURPRISE!”
I jolt, then laugh, because it’s too much and perfect and I don’t know what else to do with the swell in my chest. I clutch at all three of my Alphas, overwhelmed and grateful and so impossibly happy that my eyes sting again.
I stare around properly, and my brain scrambles to catch up.
Sophia is there with her three cowboys, all of them grinning as if they’ve been in on this for weeks.
Hazel is near the drinks, pink sunglasses pushed up in her hair, looking smug enough to be arrested for it.
I spot the women from the book club, beaming and waving, and a handful of familiar faces from the town shops, plus neighbors I’ve lived beside for years, people who have watched me build a life here with scraped knees and stubborn pride.
There are so many of them who matter.
I turn back to Seth, still half convinced I’m going to blink and wake up.
He leans in close, one hand firm at my waist. “Everyone you love is here,” he says, quiet but sure. “Everyone you care about. We wanted them with us for this.” His gaze holds mine, steadying me. “To celebrate our home, and the start of what comes next.”
My throat tightens. I nod, because words won’t work, and Kai kisses my temple as Carter presses a hand to my back, keeping me upright while my heart tries to spill out of my chest in every direction at once.
I laugh, clinging to all three of them, overwhelmed and grateful and so incredibly, impossibly happy.
The party flows around us. People hugging me, congratulating us, marveling at the house and the property and the future stretching out before us. I float through it in a daze, accepting drinks and food and well wishes, constantly finding my way back to my Alphas.
At some point, we end up in a quieter corner, and Seth’s expression turns serious.
“We need to talk about the business,” he says. “Your real estate business.”
I tense slightly, the old anxiety creeping back in. “What about it?”
“Whatever you want to do, we’ll support you. If you want to keep running it, we’ll help. Buy out your parents’ share, protect it from their mess, whatever you need. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
The offer is practical and loving all at once. I hesitate, really thinking about it for the first time, about what I want, and not what I feel obligated to do.
“I think…” I take a breath. “That I might want to let it go.”
They wait, giving me space to find the words.
“My parents can sell the business and the house. I’m done tethering my future to their decisions. I’ve spent so long trying to save something that was never really mine to begin with.”
“Is there anything else you want to do instead?” Carter asks gently.
The answer comes easier than I expected. “I want to be your photographer.”
A beat of silence.
“Our personal photographer, I love that.” Kai’s grin is spreading. “Perfect. You can start with us, in the bedroom. Very artistic lighting required.”
“That’s not photography,” Carter says dryly when I lift my camera. “That’s straight-up porn.”
Kai raises an eyebrow, amused. “And the issue is?”
“You can’t go capture the moment and then immediately aim that thing at our asses.”
I laugh, shifting my grip. “It’s called documenting real life.”
Seth’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “Real life, huh? You planning to submit those to a gallery or blackmail us later?”
“Depends,” I say sweetly. “Are you going to cooperate and give me new photos for my portfolio, or do I have to work with whatever material you’re offering?”
Kai grins. “I volunteer as tribute.”
Carter groans. “Of course you do.”
Kai tilts his head suddenly, like he’s remembering something. “Should we tell her the final surprise?”
I narrow my eyes immediately. “Should I be worried?”
“Yes,” Carter answers, deadpan.
They take my hands and lead me through the house, pointing out rooms and plans and little touches they set up for me. A reading nook by a window, a dark room that could be converted to a photography studio.
We step out the back door into the expansive yard. In one of the stalls stands Brutus.
“Wait.” My voice comes out strangled. “What’s he doing here?”
Carter delivers it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “He’s ours now.”
“Ours?”
“Farmer Crawford is getting too old to handle him,” Kai explains. “He offered us Brutus because we’re apparently the only people crazy enough to want him.”
Brutus grunts and shifts in his stall, his dark eyes tracking our movement. He looks exactly as terrifying as he did in the arena. Two thousand pounds of muscle and attitude, a living legend of destruction.
He also looks… content? Is that possible?
Brutus huffs, tosses his head, and turns away like we’re boring him.
“Oh, things are going to be so much crazier, aren’t they?” I ask.
They laugh and pull me in like everything I’ve ever wanted is wrapped up in three impossible men and one psychotic bull.
“I love you so much, June.” Kai’s voice is rough with emotion, stripped of his usual humor. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I adore you.”
“You’re everything,” Carter says, quiet but sure, his arms tight around me.
Seth doesn’t speak right away. He just holds me, face tucked into my hair, breath warm against my neck. “I’m going to love you forever, darlin’.”
“I love you all,” I tell them, and the words feel too small for what I mean, but they’re the truest thing I have. “So much it scares me.”
“Good scare or bad scare?” Kai asks.
“The best kind,” I manage, laughing a little.
We stay there, the four of us tangled together in the yard at the start of a life I never let myself picture too clearly.
“This house is perfect,” I whisper, and I mean it. Right now I have everything.
Even if a small, scared part of me is still waiting for my body to catch up.