Page 97 of Where the Blacktop Ends

Mom sets down her fork and reaches across the table, taking my hand. “We know, honey.”

I nod. Of course, they know. They’ve always been tuned into my feelings.

“He’s the most amazing man. A father, a grandfather. I’ve met his son and his whole family—his siblings, his dad. They’re all incredible. They support each other, work hard, and really know what it means to sacrifice for family. Everything Troy’s doing, he’s doing it for them.”

“He sounds like the kind of person we always hoped you’d find,” Mom says with a soft smile.

I bite my lip, feeling the weight of the next confession coming. “But there’s more. The only reason he might lose his candidacy is because of me.”

Mom’s smile fades, and Dad leans back in his chair, his brow furrowing. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Georgia...” James cautions. I filled him in on tabloid during the flight to Texas. Though he told me Troy would find a way to protect me from it being released, I’m still not convinced he can. If this reporter is hell bent on ruining Troy’s chances of winning, he’ll find a way. And it’ll be all my fault.

“Someone from high school went to the media with the letter I wrote to the state senator and what happened afterwards. They’ve spun up this story about me, claiming that I’m only with Troy to revive my failed political ambitions after being chewed out by the Texas senator. Basically, indicating that I am anti-whatever Troy’s policies are and therefore Troy will be swayed by me.”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Dad says, slamming his fist down on the table.

I nod. “I know. But I came home to warn you because when this story drops, I don’t know how it’ll affect you. I don’t want it dredging up the past. And honestly, I don’t even know if I should go to North Carolina on Sunday. I don’t want to hurt his chances of winning. He... he proposed to me.”

“Oh, Georgia.” Mom stands, walks around the table, and kneels in front of me, pulling me into a hug. “Do you want to marry him?”

I nod, fighting back tears. “I do. I know it’s fast, but I can’t imagine a life without him and Liam in it. They’ve become everything to me.”

Dad comes up behind me, resting a firm hand on my shoulder. “If he’s as good a man as you say, he won’t let this, or the race impact his relationship with you.”

“He said the same thing,” I whisper, wiping my eyes. “He said he doesn’t care whether he wins or loses as long as he has me. But I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt this for him.”

“Nonsense,” Dad says, his voice full of resolve. “You’re going to North Carolina. You deserve to be there. You belong by his side. I’ll call up your Uncle Clay, and he, Maggie, and Penny will come too. We’ll all go to support you and Troy. Plus, I’d like to meet this guy in person.”

I nod, feeling the shift. What I thought might be an excuse to stay out of North Carolina now looks like it’s turning into a family reunion. As much as I want my parents to meet Troy and his family, I can’t shake the nerves, worrying about what’s going to happen on election night.

Chapter 38 – Georgia

“Are you nervous?” Regan asks, squeezing my hand. My other hand grips Aunt Maggie’s as we stand in the expansive dining room of Whitewood Creek Brewery & Restaurant—the Marshall family’s newest Charlotte location. Our eyes stay fixed on the towering monitors streaming the election results.

The brewery has transformed since I last saw it. Despite the mayor’s best efforts to block Troy’s family from securing permits, Cash bulldozed ahead with construction, and now the place is breathtaking—nearly complete.

Reclaimed wooden ceilings stretch high above us, modern accents weaving seamlessly with rustic charm. The space holds nearly a hundred guests between indoor and outdoor seating, while the event area in the back can accommodate two hundred more, overlooking a hand-built pond with a dock. It’s like a piece of Whitewood Creek farmstead dropped into the heart of the city, ready to welcome the eclectic brewery crowd when the grand opening happens this spring.

"A little," I admit. "But I’m confident he’s going to win this."

Regan squeezes my hand again. "He’s got this."

What I don’t say is that I’m still waiting—waiting for the other shoe to drop. Whoever threatened to use my past against Troy has been silent, but silence doesn’t mean safe. It could mean waiting. Watching. Choosing the perfect moment to strike.

With most votes already counted, Troy is crushing three of his five opponents. But the fourth? He’s close—uncomfortably close.

Liam’s back at the farmstead with Eleanor, but the rest of Troy’s family is here—Clay, Maggie, their kids Penny and Oliver, plus my parents. They laugh, mingle, and drink like they’ve known each other forever. Over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Uncle Clay, my dad, and Troy’s brothers, Lawson and Cash, clinking pints of Whitewood Creek beer, their laughter rolling through the space. Troy’s been tied up with interviews since I landed, handling business while the votes roll in. I haven’t seen him since New York, but I feel him now—close.

And then—Troy’s arms wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.

“Mind if I steal you for a moment?” His deep voice rumbles against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. He keeps his hands on my hips as he guides me away from the crowd and toward the kitchen of the restaurant.

“The results,” I breathe. “They’re about to be announced.”

He shrugs. “Georgia, I never cared about winning for the glory—just for what it means for my family. But lately? The only thing I care about winning... is you.”

A shiver racks through me as he lifts me onto the cool metal counter, slotting himself between my legs. His hands trail up my thighs, slipping beneath my royal-blue dress—the one I chosecarefully, hoping it would show the media I’m no longer the naive sixteen-year-old who blasted a state senator all over social media, thinking she could change the world. I’m a grown woman now, one with strong opinions, a right to stand beside my man with no regrets.

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