He laughed, turning the engine off and twisting to face me. “Did you think I was being a drama bear?”
“If the shoe fits,” I teased.
Rhys rolled his eyes and hopped out again without opening the doors. Oh, to have long legs.
I opened the door and got out to meet Rhys on the other side of the vehicle. “I can’t believe we drove ten miles and never left the property. That’s crazy.”
Rhys linked our arms again, and it warmed my heart. I’d forgotten how tactile he was, and the truth was I’d missed it. My ex wasn’t really a touchy person, but my papa and dad had been. I grew up with a lot of laughter, smiles, and embraces, dancing together in the middle of making dinner. Even after we lost Dad, the laughter and joy had stayed, a little dimmer but always present. Then, when Pops got sick, all that died. Maybe I was grasping at straws, but it felt like joy lived here.
The door flung open, and the next thing I knew, Mr. Hallbjorn engulfed me in a hug.
“Kian.” Jonathan, the tall, stunning omega, was Rhys’s papa, and he pulled me into another big hug. I sighed and wrapped my arms around him. Then, without warning or a way to stop them, tears rolled down my cheeks. Maybe it was being in the arms of a papa again.
“Oh, sweet child, you’re not alone,” he crooned in my ears, simply holding me on the porch of his home. “You’re not alone.” The more he said this, the more the tears flowed.
I had felt alone for the last few months. I really had.
He pulled back to meet my eyes and simply smiled. I suddenly felt so exposed and ducked my head. He chuckled and took my hands. “Come on, there’s nothing some hot soup and crusty bread can’t fix.”
I saw where Rhys got it from. When I walked into the house, Stefan, Rhys’s alpha dad, pulled me into a tight hug of his own, patting my back twice without saying a word. The look in his eyes said everything.
“Come on. Dinner is ready, son,” Stefan said.
I smiled at the gruff words, filled with warmth. Stefan was a bear of a man, over six-three for sure. However, on every occasion we’d met, he’d been nothing but kind. Plus, the way he treated Jon made it obvious he was a softie.
I followed behind Stefan with Jon holding on to me into a large kitchen that smelled absolutely delicious. My stomach rumbled.
“Right on time, it seems,” Jon said. “Go on and wash up. I’ll just get the food on the table.”
“Thank you,” I said to Rhys’s papa and walked over to the sink.
“Hey!” Rhys exclaimed. When I looked back, I saw my friend rubbing his butt.
“Wash up.” Jonathan had his hands on his hip, and I snorted when my friend snatched another slice of the oven-fresh crusty bread and ran behind Stefan just as Jonathan waved the wooden spatula threateningly.
With every moment that passed, I smiled a little more than I had in what felt like forever, and I said a thank you to whatever God had thought to bring Rhys into my life when he did.
Stefan snorted and pushed his son towards the sink. “Little rascal.” I washed up quickly and turned around in time to see Stefan and Jonathan sharing a kiss. As they pressed their foreheads, whispering to each other, my heart flipped. Seeing them together reminded me of my parents, but it also reminded me that I might never have that.
I sighed, and Rhys came over and nudged me in the hip. “Don’t mind them; they get all mushy all the time.” I looked over at my friend and caught a glimpse of longing there, but it was gone quickly as he smiled at me.
“Papa made beef stew with dumplings, and it’s my favorite. The bread, ugh, so good,” Rhys said. “’Cause I’m his favorite son.”
“Oh, is Gabe here?” Jonathan asked, his tone teasing.
Rhys gasped and put his hands over his heart in mock indignation. “That hurts, Papa. Hurts.”
I laughed at their antics. This was what it had been like with my parents.
“Sit down, drama bear.” Jonathan pointed to the dining table in the kitchen. It was big enough to seat eight, and it looked like there were enough plates in the middle of the table for exactly that many people. Maybe I would meet the rest of Rhys’s brothers. Also, what was with this family and bears? Even their company referenced it: Crazy Bear Ranch. It stood out for sure, and I already had an idea for the branding but still, bears? Weird.
“Wow, this is enough to feed twenty,” I said when the big bowl of soup was placed on the table.
“Or six hungry bears,” Stefan snorted. Jonathan smacked him with the back of his hand, and they shared a look I couldn’t decipher. I was even more confused when Rhys also laugh-snorted as he began scooping soup into his bowl.
“Don’t mind him, Kian. Go on, dish up, eat, eat.” He nodded at the bowl as he put the platter of bread down.
Jonathan’s phone pinged as I was scooping up the thick stew. My mouth watered at the smell. When did I last enjoy a home-cooked meal?
