Page 6 of An Alpha’s Guide to Finding the One

My own eyes widen. “What?” I screech. “Why would we try to find him?” The question is hysterical, but the thought of this guy thinking I’m lying or worse, trying to baby trap him, makes me want to puke all over my friends.

“Are you keeping it?” Parker asks bluntly.

I find myself nodding without conscious thought. I am all for women having the freedom to choose, but I’ve known about this baby for ten minutes and I am already attached.

“Then hon, he deserves to know, doesn’t he? Even if he wants nothing to do with this baby, doesn’t he deserve the choice?” Posey asks carefully.

Well, when she puts it like that. “I feel like an asshole for not thinking of how he might feel.”

Posey just smiles and offers me a sideways hug. “Take a few days to process, and then we’ll do what we can to try and find ball boy, alright?”

Taking a deep breath, I place my hand on my stomach and nod, bracing myself for whatever comes next. “Alright.”

Slamming the front door shut with a groan, I scrub my hands down my face when I hear the shitty sad boy music coming from upstairs. After pulling a nearly seventy-two-hour shift at the station, I barely have enough energy to take off my shoes, let alone deal with more of Lucky’s emo bullshit. But it’s been nearly three months of this and it’s so unlike my energizer bunny little brother that I’m worried, meaning I need to drag my exhausted ass up there and find out once and for all what’s going on with him.

When I reach his bedroom, I nearly groan out loud. He’s on his bed, facedown in a pillow, with his sad boy playlist blasting through the room loud enough to shake the walls.

The first thing I do is turn off the music and when he doesn’t so much as flinch, I wonder if he fell asleep like that. But then one hazel eye peeks out to glare at me and I know he’s just choosing to ignore my presence. Naturally, I ignore the nonverbal warning and sit my tired ass down on the edge of his mattress. “Alright, out with it, Luck. What the fuck is going on with you lately?”

He groans, flipping me off and turning his head just enough to speak out of the corner of his mouth. “Fuck off, Law. I’m not in any legal trouble, so it’s not your problem.”

The blow hits center mass, exactly where he intended it to, and guilt turns my already stressed gingerbread scent so spicy it hurts to breathe in. We’re chronically understaffed since losing the sheriff and two deputies to retirement last year, so the only time I see my brother lately is when he’s in some shit and I have to go bail him out or play big bad sheriff to one of his latest conquests.

Lucky turns over fully, guilt written across his face along with lines from the pillow. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I know you guys have been slammed at the station and they need you more than I do.”

I’m already shaking my head before he finishes speaking. “No one is more important to me than this pack, Lucky. I’m sorry I haven’t made that more clear.” What makes it worse is that I don’t have to work. The life insurance payout we got after our parents passed, plus residuals from the sportswear company our dads founded, have set us up so that we never have to work again if we don’t want to. But I love my job. Or I did, before I was elected to replace Sheriff Johnson when he retired. But now instead of helping people, I’m stuck behind a damn desk and babysitting my employees when I could be spending time with my family. Or hell, going on a date. I can’t remember the last time I actually had the company of more than just my hand.

Lucky drags his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up everywhere. “I’m sorry I’ve been a mopey asshole lately.” He sighs. “But…”

I see the look in his eyes and don’t know whether to groan or laugh.

“Who are they?” I ask curiously. For my playboy brother to be this tangled up over anyone is both deeply concerning and amusing as all hell.

He groans a guttural sound that morphs into a growl. “I have no idea.”

I’m honestly taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she refused to give me her name, wouldn’t ask for mine, and she smelled like nothing I’ve ever scented before in my life.”

My body jolts, a sudden awareness making tingles spread down my arms. “What did she smell like, Luck?”

“Remember those huckleberry hand pies Mom used to make for special occasions?”

I nod, mouth watering at the thought of something we haven’t had in years. Our mom was an incredible baker, and she used to make those hand pies for every birthday, holiday, and big event up until she passed two years ago.

“Yeah, well, she smelled like that. My entire body practically liquefied when I caught her scent and then I saw her and fuck, Law. Her picture could be in magazines across the world and I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Lucky…” I don’t want to scare him off, but it sounds like he’s describing a scent match. “Have you ever heard anyone describe what a scent match feels like?”

He nods. “Of course, Dads described it enough times that I feel like…” his head turns sharply. “No. You don’t think?”

Shrugging, I drag a hand down my face. “I can’t know for sure without scenting her, and if you don’t even know her name…”

I watch as guilt and a bit of shame fill his eyes before he reaches under his pillow and pulls out a scrap of neon orange fabric. My eyes widen in disbelief. “Are those?”

“Her panties?” He barks a sharp laugh. “Yup.”

He waves them in front of my face and I swear to god I almost pass out. There’s a distinct chemical tinge that tells me the wearer is likely on suppressants, but the scent itself? Fucking hell. “Holy shit,” I gasp, ripping the panties from his palm and bringing them to my nose for as deep of an inhale as I can possibly manage. I don’t even care that this would be considered disgusting to most rational people. My alpha is on the verge of going feral from a hint of scent that is months old.