Page 30 of A Farmer’s Guide To Gamers

“Okay fine. I may have met a pack,” I hedged, not giving more away.

“Scent-compatible?” she asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “The alpha I met first is this adorably dorky guy that’s so cute and loves cheesy pickup lines. Then the others are all his coworkers and college buddies. They develop video games.” I could have mentioned Dean, but I avoided it for now. Giving my mother too much information was dangerous.

She snorted at the last part. “And they matched with a girl who barely wants to own a phone and refused a smart TV.”

“That they did,” I said happily. “That will just make things more interesting. You should have seen the alpha waking up to Leonard."

“That rooster is a menace,” she snorted before hopping down, washing her hands, then grabbing the second ball of dough and working alongside me. I adored my mother and all her chaos, and the idea of introducing my pack to her didn’t scare me. They should see every chaotic, imperfect part of my life and embrace it early on or this would never work.

The fact we were from two very different worlds meant we’d always keep things interesting. I had things to learn about them, and they had things to learn about farm life.

“How was your stay at county, Mom? Get any good poker in?”

Mom sighed dramatically and shook her head. She rambled on about the girls not knowing how to play any poker and that they had made plans to play again, this time not in jail, for a girls’ night out.

Note to self, make sure dads know about this plan because that sounded like a recipe for craziness. Or potentially another night in lock-up.

“But the data centers, Tillie! It’s horrible! Have you seen the statistics of what it does to the local water, not to mention the wildlife around here,” she punched down on the dough a bit too hard. “It just makes me so mad! I need to organize something. Something big.”

“Like what?” I asked, curious as I folded prosciutto, brie, and rosemary into the savory loaf I was making.

“We need an epic protest. Something that they can’t ignore and will make sure people actually know what’s going on. If people did really understand I think more people would be upset.” Mom sighed as she left the poor beaten dough alone to go wash her hands.

“So, basically another mugshot hall of fame worthy moment?” I asked, half joking and half serious.

“Yes!” Mom replied with a burst of real feeling. Just by looking at her and the way she was slowly drying her hands with a far off look in her eyes I knew she was already getting ideas. “Maybe your new pack could help me brainstorm something over a family dinner?”

Oh, she was sly, wasn’t she?

“Sure, Mom. Just give us a few more days to get used to each other before I throw them to the wolves,” I teased.

She huffed out a laugh and ran a hand through her wild hair, twisting it into a messy bun, secured with a pair of chopsticks she had in her pocket. I swear she stuffed things wherever she could, just in case she needed them. Then she’d use moments like this to justify it.

“We’re tame,” she argued, before bursting out laughing at her own words. She knew damn well we were anything but calm and reserved. “I’ll have the dads do a pizza night. They got a new patio gadget and have been dying to show someone. I’ve been eating half-burnt pizzas for a week. The last few were borderline edible, so a few more days will give them the time to work out the final kinks.”

“Pizza sounds perfect,” I promised.

“What combination are we doing in this one?” Mom asked, gesturing to the other dough I hadn’t added anything to.

“I was thinking dark chocolate, walnuts, and cherries. I went to the farmer’s market a few days ago and they had some gorgeous produce,” I said as I turned and pulled them out of the fridge. I’d already washed them, I’d just have to take the pits out, chop them, and get the extra juice out for this particular loaf.

“I’ll chop the walnuts,” Mom offered, heading right for my walk-in pantry. We’d done this enough times that she was familiar with the layout. “Now, tell me about them.”

“I met Jack first. He hit me with a pickup line, so I took him home. It was one of those moments that I just knew it was right,” I admitted a bit wistfully.

“The quiet ones always have the best cocks,” she said as if she was imparting great wisdom upon me. I simply shook my head already knowing her commentary was going to be wild, and continued.

“He’s gentle for an alpha. There’s this sweet, charming quality to the way he talks to me that makes me feel like the rest of the world fades away.”

“Oh, she’s got it bad,” Mom sang out as she took out a knife and bowl, getting to work chopping. “It was the same way with your fathers. Though, they weren’t the quiet type. They’re both quite loud actually. I do like them vocal, though.”

“Mom,” I groaned, “too much oversharing.”

“No need to be prudish, Tillie! You’re telling me about hooking up with an alpha the night you met him. Bit of a pot, kettle situation if you ask me.”

“Oh my god,” I said as I shook my head in mock-resignation.