Page 3 of Wild Hearts

Autumn: Awesome, maybe Mom will stop pacing now, wondering why you hadn’t told us yet.

Asher: You say that like you’re surprised Mom was worried about her favorite child. *eye roll*

Dad: Children…. Knock it off. Aiden, I’m glad you made it to Josh’s.

Mom: I wish you came home, but I understand that Shane needs help. That girl works too hard. Give her my love, dear.

Autumn: Like how she doesn’t even deny that he’s her favorite, Ash?

Me: I can’t help it that I’m awesome. And Mom, you know I’ll be home soon.

Mom: Yes, hopefully to stay. I worry about you.

Asher: Yeah, Aiden, it’s time for the prodigal son to return.

Autumn: Please do. Then maybe Mom won’t be sighing every two seconds at Sunday dinner as she looks at your chair.

Dad: Why do I even try?

I look up as we slow down. A fancy black iron fence in front of us with a giant “P” on it. I look down at my phone one last time.

Me: On that note, we just pulled up. I’ll talk to you guys later.

Autumn: Glad you’re home, Aiden.

Asher: What Autumn said. Let me know if you need another set of hands. I’m happy to fly out.

Mom: Love you, baby.

Me: Love you too, Mom.

I darken the screen and slide my phone into my pocket right as we pull in front of a large log house. Jake parks the car and we all slide out.

“Thanks for the ride, man,” I tell him.

“No problem.” He looks between Striker and me. “How about I give you guys a day or two then get together for a few beers?”

“Sounds good,” Striker says.

“I’ll be in touch,” he yells, sliding back into the SUV.

“Later,” Striker yells back.

As we walk up the front steps of the house, Striker mumbles under his breath, “Home sweet home.”

“This is where you grew up, right?” I look around the yard and take it in as he unlocks the front door.

“Yeah, my ancestors were some of the first settlers in the area, so the land has been in our family for generations.”

“So you’re from a founding family? Am I in the presence of royalty?” I tease.

“You know it. Just call me King.” He smirks.

“King bitch, maybe,” I joke, making us both laugh.

We walk in and drop our bags by the stairs. I follow him into the kitchen and look around. The house may be log and rustic on the outside, but the inside is a mix of modern and rustic. The kitchen is large with wood beams on the ceiling, white shiplap walls, and a white marble countertop. A dark copper farmhouse sink and a large gas stove, and an island with brown leather stools. You can see the feminine touches throughout.

It feels… homey.

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