Page 93 of Accepting Fate

Grayson drops his head back and lets out a loud laugh. He winces and tries to play it off like it never happened.

“See. That’s what you get for being an asshole.”

His arms tighten around me, and he drops his forehead to mine. “Sorry, Angel. I will be by your side the entire time and if I’m not, Noah will be. The fucker texted everyone claiming you were his best friend and that sent Mom into a rage. She threatened to take me out of this world if we made up some excuse not to come over. And I plan on having a long happy life with mini versions of you one day.”

Damn this man and his words.

Between his dirty mouth and him always knowing the right thing to say, if we weren't outside of his parents' house, I would pull him back into his truck and show him how grateful I am for him being him.

I'm about to respond when the front door flies open and I see Noah bounding down the stairs.

“Hey, lovebirds. Are you going to stay out here all night or come inside?” Noah says while walking up to us.

Grayson lets go enough so we are facing him but wraps one arm around my waist.

As Noah approaches, he looks between both of us. “What’s going on out here?”

I shift closer into Grayson’s side and wrap my arms around his middle. “I’m a little nervous.”

And horny as fuck but I choose not to say that.

Noah shakes his head and rolls his eyes before pulling me out of Grayson’s hold. He throws an arm around my shoulders and guides me towards the house. Behind us, I hear Gray let out a low growl and then he’s at my side, flinging Noah’s arm off and tucking me into his side.

Noah flashes Grayson an evil smirk. What a little shithead.

We all walk up the stairs and when Noah is about to reach the door, it opens. A woman who looks to be in her mid-fifties at the latest, with dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes, reaches out and pulls me into a hug.

It takes a moment for my brain to catch up and hug her back.

“Mom.” I hear Grayson behind me.

She gives me one more tight squeeze and releases me. I take a small step back and look to Grayson for guidance. He places his hand on my hip and secures me against his side.

“Logan, this is my mom, Michelle. Mom, this is Logan.”

Michelle bats her hand at Grayson. “Stop with the formalities, boy.” She pauses to shift her focus to me. “Hi, Logan. Call me Shelly. For now.” She throws a wink at Grayson before waving us to come inside.

We walk into the house and it’s even more magical than the outside. It’s one big open concept to the right with the kitchen flowing into the living room. A long couch, with two matching recliners at each end, sits in front of a fireplace with a TV above it.

Three men stand around the kitchen island. They all turn when they hear us. Wesley and Landon, I recognize, but the third man starts heading towards us. I can tell who this is without an introduction. The boys certainly got their looks from their father. He has the same midnight blue eyes and chestnut brown hair that Grayson, Landon, and Wesley all have. Noah being the only one that took after his mother with the blonde hair.

He holds out his hand. “Hello. You must be the famous Logan. I’m Conrad..”

I shake his hand and smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Grayson guides me to one of the bar stools and motions for me to sit. Shelly all but runs around to the opposite side in front of me. “The short-haired tattooed one is Landon, he’s my second oldest,” she says while pointing at Landon. “The one that looks like he’s pissed off is my oldest Wesley.” As she points at him, Wesley furrows his eyebrows at her and nods his head in my direction.

Noah plops down next to me and leans closer. “Wes is mute.”

“I’m not mute. I just don’t say random shit for the sake of hearing myself talk.”

Damn, that guy’s voice is deep. He almost sounds like a wolf growling. This confirms my previous thought of him slightly scaring me.

Grayson squeezes my shoulders and presses his front against my back. He leans down to my ear and whispers, “He just doesn’t say much. Don’t take it personal.”

I nod and focus back on Shelly.

“So, sweetie, can I get you anything? Wine? Beer? Oh wait, are you old enough to drink?”