Free Who's Your Alpha? by Vicky Burkholder Page A

part defining who and what they are, what would you tell them?”
    “That’s not fair.”
    “I never promised to be fair. So you’ll come?”
    Sunny sighed. “All right. All right. I’ll come. But don’t expect me to shift and go running through the woods with you. I’m not a kid any more.”
    “You were never a kid. A bitch, yes, but never a kid.”
    “Good-bye, Rommy.” She hung up the phone before Rom could say anything else. It looked like she was going back to Carsonville. When she left ten years ago, she was certain it had been forever.
    * * * *
    Sunny slammed the trunk lid to her car and stared at the hotel that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been in town. Of course, ten years had passed, but still, a four-story hotel? And out on the edge of town, one of those new mega-stores across from a huge gas station/convenience shop, right off the new highway. Where once there’d been cornfields, now apartment complexes stood, catering to the ever-expanding city folks looking for an escape from their cramped, expensive lives. So much had changed in the small town, and yet there were parts left unchanged for over a century.
    She wondered if the people had changed.
    Or the mountain.
    She wheeled her suitcase into the lobby. A small fountain bubbled in the center, flanked by two sofas and tall palms. Everything was done in shades of cream, maroon, and navy. All very pretty—and so very boring. She approached the desk.
    “Hey, Sunny. I didn’t expect to see you here. Surprised a lot of us when we saw the registration.”
    The woman behind the check-in desk smiled a false smile. Her long bleached-blonde hair and too-heavy makeup couldn’t quite hide the ravages of too many cigarettes, tanning booths, and late nights at the local bar. The crisp navy-blue uniform covered a pencil-thin shape. “Ruby Baker. How nice to see you.”
    The woman smiled with her mouth; it didn’t reach her eyes. Eyes colder than the Antarctic in mid-winter. “It’s Montgomery now. I assume you’re here for the reunion?”
    “Yes.” Sunny resisted the urge to straighten her rumpled tunic and creased slacks, or run her hand through her short, dark curls. Though she wasn’t nearly as heavy as she’d once been, Sunny knew she’d never be one of the “thin” girls—the style-conscious clique who decided who counted in their school. And Sunny hadn’t. Though she’d been a leader of sorts in her own right, she was never one of the alphas. “I have a reservation for four days.”
    Ruby turned to her computer. “Ah, yes. Here you are. Non-smoking. Single room. Sunny Clark. Still the same name?”
    Sunny attempted to ignore the smug smile on Ruby’s face. “Yeah. And what about you? I understand Tom’s your second? No, third husband. Oh, wait. He’s already moved on too.”
    Ruby slammed a keycard on the countertop, her smile tighter than a Hollywood starlet’s pushup bra. “Room 401. Enjoy your stay—and the view.”
    Sunny picked up the card. “Why thank you. I think I will.” Whistling an old country song about a cheating farm wife who left her husband, Sunny wheeled her suitcase to the elevator.
    The room looked like a thousand other generic hotel rooms, though maybe a tad smaller. Sunny dumped her suitcase on the bed closest to the door. She opened the curtains and snorted. Her “luxury” room looked out over the rear parking lot and was next to the elevator. At least she could see the mountain from here. Ruby might not think the view was much, but it was exactly what Sunny wanted to see. The late afternoon sun turned the autumn colors to a dazzling kaleidoscope display.
    Sunny checked the clock on the nightstand. Five o’clock. She could grab some supper and then go for a run. Rommy wasn’t due in until late and she’d have to do the family thing first. They’d hook up tomorrow, if possible. She stretched out her hand and stared at it. Her fingernails changed to claws and dark fur grew without her even