Page 55 of What the Hex

“Gross!” Bailey yelled through the glass. “Stop slobbering on each other and get in here.”

“I want to show King pictures from the homecoming dance,” Bridget added. “Stop hogging him.”

“What about me?” Storm teased. “Don’t I get to see the pictures?”

“No,” the twins chorused.

Tired of waiting, they opened the door and practically dragged King out of the cab. To be fair, he went willingly, laughing as he allowed himself to be led up the walkway by the two chattering hyenas. In fact, he looked to be enjoying the attention.

It really was a crime that he’d been born the youngest of his family. Patient, indulgent, and genuinely interested in what they had to say, the guy made one hell of a big brother.

Storm watched them go and sighed contentedly. He’d missed this. The bright lights and fancy parties had nothing on the blue skies and open plains of Texas.

This was where he belonged, and he’d known it all along. It had just taken a little while to figure it out.

Of course, if King had wanted to stay in Colorado, he would have done so gladly. Home wasn’t a place. It wasn’t a house. It wasn’t where he’d been born.

It was a feeling that couldn’t be described with words but needed to be experienced. It was something many people searched for but never found because it couldn’t be defined. It just…was. If you know, you know, as his sisters would say.

Home was people.

Home was family.

Home was King.

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