Page 38 of Mating With My Grumpy Alphas
“Chicken and dumplings if you have any left. Maybe some of that cornbread. And soup. Something easy on the stomach.”
“Coming right up. This for that sweet omega girl who’s been working at Hollis’s place?”
Small towns. Everyone knew everyone’s business, but at least it came from a place of caring.
“Yeah,” I said. “She’s had some medical issues today. Figured she could use a proper meal.”
“You’re a good man, Rhett Callahan,” Maggie said, already packing containers with generous portions. “She’s lucky to have people looking out for her.”
Twenty minutes later, I was standing on Willa’s front porch with enough food to feed three people, trying to work up the nerve to knock. Her house looked small and lonely in the evening light, one window glowing warmly but the rest dark.
She might not want to see anyone. Especially not after the day she’d had.
But Elias had thought she shouldn’t be alone, and my protective instincts were in full agreement. Even if she didn’t want company, she needed to eat.
I knocked softly, not wanting to startle her.
“Rhett?” Her voice came through the door, surprised but not unwelcoming.
“Yeah. Brought dinner. Figured you might not feel up to cooking after today.”
The door opened, and I got my first look at her since the suppressant crisis. She was pale, her hair loose around her face, wearing soft clothes that looked like they were chosen for comfort rather than appearance. But her eyes were clearer than I’d expected, and she wasn’t shaking at least.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, but she was looking at the food containers with obvious interest.
“I know. But Maggie’s chicken and dumplings fix most problems, and I figured you probably hadn’t eaten.”
“I haven’t,” she admitted. “I was too nauseous earlier, and then I just… forgot.”
“Well, now you don’t have to think about it. I can just leave this with you if you want to be alone, but there’s enough for two if you want company.”
Willa looked at me for a long moment, clearly debating. Then she stepped back and opened the door wider.
“Stay,” she said quietly. “I could use the company.”
Her living room was small but tidy, with soft blankets scattered around like she’d been making a nest of sorts. The air still carried traces of chamomile and lavender from whatever scent work Elias had done, mixed with her own jasmine and summer rain signature that was stronger than usual.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as we settled at her small kitchen table with the food.
“Better. Shaky still, but not like I’m going to pass out.” She took a tentative bite of the chicken and dumplings and sighed with obvious relief. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and I watched some of the tension leave her shoulders as the warm food did its work.
“Elias said he and Wes stayed for a while after he helped with the medical stuff,” I said carefully.
“They did. They were both really kind about the whole thing.” Willa looked up at me, something vulnerable in her expression. “I told them about my background. About the wildlife photography I used to do.”
“That must have felt good. Sharing something that matters to you.”
“It did. And scary. But they both understood why it was important, why losing it hurt so much.” She paused, stirring her soup absently. “Wes offered to show me some local wildlife spots where I could practice if I ever want to try photographing again.”
“That was thoughtful of him.”
“It was.” Willa was quiet for a moment, then looked at me directly. “Rhett, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Do you all talk about me? You, Wes, and Elias?”
