And Joyce hadn’t arrived alone. Her mate was with her. He hung back on the front porch initially, unsure what sort of welcome he might find and allowing his mate to reunite with her family first.
Gene Hamilton was kind and easy-going. He hardly spoke, but his smile attested to the fact he was used to his mate steamrolling through life with her tiny frame and huge heart.
“So, you’ve been living near Gene’s family?” Miles asked. He had his arm around Rebecca where they sat on one of the couches. Griffen was at her other side.
“Yes, son. About a hundred miles west of here.” Joyce sat on a large plush footstool right in front of Miles. She took his free hand and squeezed it for the millionth time. “Twenty-seven years. I can’t believe how tall you are.” A new tear fell onto her cheek, and she wiped it with the wad of tissues she held constantly.
Melinda leaned into her mother from her perch on the footstool with her.
“Nearly three decades and you were so close,” Mimi repeated for the third time. The woman sat in an armchair at an angle that faced everyone.
Joyce nodded. “I couldn’t take the chance. I never wanted to put any of you in harm’s way. As long as any of the six elders who chased me off were still living, I refused to put you in jeopardy. They were deadly serious when they told me and Gene we could either split up or leave the reservation never to return. If either of us was ever seen in the vicinity, they promised to murder all three of you.”
Her voice shook as she sniffled again. “I was pregnant already. And I knew Mimi would take good care of you. After all, she raised me to be a strong, independent woman. It was the toughest decision I’ve ever made, but there was no choice, really. They wouldn’t allow me to even say good-bye. We left with the clothes on our back and barely enough money to make the trip to Gene’s birthplace. When I heard that jackass Randal hung himself in the county jail last week, I knew it was time.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Melinda whispered, running her fingers up and down her mother’s arm. “Grandma knew you were mated and pregnant when you left. She only told us last year.”
Joyce nodded, setting her hand on her mate’s where he stood behind her in a protective stance that made Rebecca smile. He was a good man. She knew it in her heart.
Joyce spoke again. “I was. That baby was a boy. Two years later I had a girl, and two years after that another boy. You have two half-brothers and half-sister now. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”
“Do they know about us?” Miles asked.
“They do now.” Joyce dabbed her eyes again. “We couldn’t risk telling them before now, but we called them a few days ago when we realized we were making the trip here.”
“If only we had known you were so close…” Melinda’s voice trailed off. “But we never even looked for you. The elders told Grandma they found no evidence of your body after an extensive search that probably never occurred. And then right after we learned Randal had a hand in your disappearance, he proclaimed that he killed you all those years ago.”
Rebecca shook with renewed anger at everything that man, his cronies, and his own child had done to this family. And all because he was a bigot. He’d even gone to his grave lying through his teeth and leaving the Bartels with no hope. Bastard.
“God. It’s all so crazy.” Miles shook his head.
Rebecca leaned into Miles’ embrace, and he hugged her tight, his hand settling on her belly.
Joyce’s gaze went to Rebecca with warmth. “And now my baby is having his own baby.” She choked on a sob. “I can’t believe it. You look so beautiful, honey. You’re glowing.”
Griffen lifted Rebecca’s hand and rubbed it across his cheek. “We can’t wait to meet the little guy.”
Everyone laughed at that. Tears mixed with the laughter until they were all sniffling and wiping their faces.
Finally, Mimi stood, all four-foot ten of her, and clapped her hands together. “Well, everyone. We have a party to prepare for. And now it’s a celebration too.” She kissed her daughter on the cheek and grabbed her hand. “Everyone except Rebecca,”—she shot a pointed look in Rebecca’s direction—“to the kitchen.”
Rebecca let out a slow exhale as she relaxed into the warm embrace of her mates. She closed her eyes as they both kissed her hair, each with a hand on her belly.
Suddenly, her belly tightened, giving her a slight pause.
Without opening her eyes, she smiled inside.
“You okay, love?” Miles asked.
“Perfect.” She knew it was only the beginning, but she also sensed nothing huge would occur for many hours. She had a party to attend.
The sweet bundle of love in her belly would wait. She had to. It wasn’t her time.
Tomorrow was soon enough to welcome her into the world.
“Do you suppose he looks like me or Griffen?” Miles asked, his hand stroking her belly.
Griffen chuckled deep. “If the little fellow’s ugly, then you’ll just have to back off while I claim our mate’s pussy for a while. Sooner or later we’ll get a handsome one.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. Would they never stop with the posturing over whose sperm won this race? It didn’t matter to her. And she knew deep down it didn’t matter to them either.
But she did remind them of the promise they’d made her nearly nine months ago. “Don’t forget there will be no sperm anywhere near my eggs for several months. You both promised I could finish my Spartan trifecta this fall. And I’m holding you to it.”
Griffen kissed the top of her head again. “Of course, baby. You shall race. I even got new shoes so I could train with you.”
She smiled at her belly, watching the rise and fall as her daughter squirmed around inside. Naturally, neither of her men intended for her to race alone. That would be asking too much. She didn’t care though. She loved having them with her. Both of them. Either of them.
She lifted her gaze. “Love you both so much.”
Griffen kissed her lips. “Love you too, baby. With my entire soul.”
“Me too, love. Me too.” Miles lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
About the Author
Becca Jameson lives in Atlanta, GA, with her husband and two kids. After years of editing, she is now a full-time author. With over 25 best-selling books written, she has dabbled in a variety of genres, ranging from paranormal to contemporary to BDSM. She loves chatting with fans, so feel free to contact her through email, Facebook, or her website.
…where Alphas dominate…
http://www. Beccajameson.com
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Rebecca's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 6) Page 28