Page 138 of Fixing to Be Mine

Mom

Heard you two are back in town. Dinner’s at six. No excuses. You two are the talk of Valentine right now.

I exhale a slow laugh and hold the phone out so she can see.

She reads it and snorts. “They don’t waste time, do they?”

“Nope. And if the whole town’s already talking, it means someone spotted us within ten minutes of landing.”

She shakes her head, amused. “Do they know what happened?”

“Hard to say.” I pocket the phone again. “But you know how it goes around here. One whisper turns into a full sermon before breakfast.”

Stormy’s expression shifts. “Are you okay with it? Them knowing?”

I nod without hesitation. “Let ’em talk. The people who matter already know what kind of woman you are. And the rest? They’ll figure it out when they see the way I look at you.”

She nestles closer, her head resting lightly on my shoulder.

“I love moments with you on the porch,” she says.

“Me too.”

By the timewe pull into my parents’ driveway, the sun has dipped behind the hills, leaving just enough light to paint the sky in dusky gold and lavender. The front porch is glowing, strung with the same twinkle lights Mama hangs up every time she hosts something bigger than our monthly family dinner. Which means this is a welcome-home party.

I glance over at Stormy as I shift the truck into park. Her hands are folded in her lap, fingers interlaced, shoulders straight, but I can tell she’s nervous.

“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,” I tell her. “They’ll ask, but they’ll also understand if you’re uncomfortable.”

She grins. “I know. I’m not nervous about what they’ll think about my past.”

“No?”

She gives me a soft smile. “Just want them to like the real me.”

“They love you. Trust me.”

The front door swings open. Emmett comes bopping down the steps, grinning, as obnoxious as ever.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Manhattan’s finest,” he says, opening Stormy’s door before I can get there. “Back from taming the big city?”

Stormy steps out with a playful roll of her eyes. “Hardly.”

I round the front of the truck and catch Emmett winking at her.

“Good to see ya came to your senses and came home. Family missed ya.”

“’Scuse me.” I clap a hand on his shoulder and move past him. “Come on, darlin’.”

Stormy takes my hand as Emmett chats with her about New York.

“Maybe I should go sing in my underwear while wearing a cowboy hat. I’d be rich.”

“You can’t sing,” I tell him as Stormy laughs.

“With what I’d be showin’, no one would care. Who knows? Maybe London will teach me.”

The second we hit the porch, Mama’s there. She doesn’t hesitate, just opens her arms and pulls Stormy into a hug like she’s known her all her life.

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