“That’s it. She’s staying. She’soursnow.”
“Let’s all calm down,” I mutter, but no one’s listening.
Lily bursts onto the porch like a ray of sunshine with too much caffeine, greeting Mia like they’ve been swapping friendship bracelets since kindergarten.
“That dress looksinsaneon you girl,” she announces, eyeing Mia up and down with an approving grin. “Total main-character energy.”
Mia blinks, clearly caught off guard by the enthusiasm, but a faint blush colors her cheeks as she hugs Lily back—just a littleawkwardly, like she’s still figuring out the choreography of this small-town welcome wagon.
“Thanks,” Mia says, voice a little shy, a little amused. “It was the least-wrinkled thing left in my bag.”
“Wrinkled or not, if I had your legs I’d be wearing napkins,” Lily declares with a wink, already dragging her into the chaos like they’ve known each other forever.
Mason steps out onto the porch, quiet as always. He made it back just in time—called out earlier for a firefighter emergency, and knowing him, he ran into a burning house and still made it home for dinner like it was no big deal. His blue eyes land on Mia with that silent weight of his. I introduce her to my best friend. He doesn’t speak right away—just gives a nod in greeting, respectful, unreadable.
I don’t miss how Mia’s eyes widen when they meet his. That silent, broad-shouldered, steel-eyed thing Mason’s got going? Yeah. The ladies eat it up.
A little green gremlin starts gnawing at my ear but I flick it away.There’s no need to be jealous, because there’s more than just loyalty between us.
Mason was there the day Jake died. Helped me pull him out the water.
He was there the moment my world cracked wide open, and he held me up when I damn near fell apart. Devon too. They’ve lived next door to Portree Hill Ranch with their aunt and uncle since they were kids. Their aunt and my mama have been locked in a dessert war for fifteen years—lemon meringue snipes and cherry pie showdowns at every church picnic. It’s the kind of rivalry that involves poisonously sweet smiles and one-upping each other with baked goods, all underpinned by real, unwavering love.
I've been watching this exchange with my family with a mixture of anxiety and amazement. Mia is holding her own, matching each Taylor family member's energy with remarkable ease. But I know it's only a matter of time before someone says something truly embarrassing.
Dad proves me right almost instantly. As we move toward the backyard where tables are set up, he slings an arm around Mia's shoulders.
“So, Mia, you're staying at Grant's place, huh?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Those walls are pretty thin. I hope my son's not keeping you up all night with his snoring—or other activities.”
“Dad!” I exclaim, mortified.
To my amazement, Mia doesn't miss a beat. “Actually, the guest suite is quite soundproof. Though I do hear the occasional moose call. Is that Grant or the local wildlife?”
Dad's laugh is so loud it practically rattles the windows. “Moose call! That's what we've been calling it since he was thirteen!”
“I'm disowning all of you,” I mutter, but I can't help smiling when I see Mia's eyes dancing with amusement.
“Don't mind him,” Mama tells Mia, guiding her toward the food tables. “Eric thinks embarrassing our children is a competitive sport.”
“And I'm the reigning champion!” Dad calls after us.
As we move through the crowd of guests, I keep expecting Mia to retreat into herself, to become overwhelmed by the sheer Taylor-ness of it all. But she surprises me again, engaging with every relative who approaches, remembering names, asking thoughtful questions, and answering some questions about her own swimming career and medals.
“Your family is exactly what I expected,” she murmurs when we finally get a moment alone by the drink table.
“Horrifying?” I suggest, handing her a glass of sweet tea.
She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Wonderful. Loud and inappropriate and completely themselves.” Her eyes meet mine. “They're so much a part of you, Grant. I can see pieces of each of them in who you are.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at her words. The fact that she sees me—not just the surface, but the parts shaped by family and history—matters more than I want to admit.
“Even the inappropriate part?” I ask, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy moment.
Her smile turns teasing. “Especially that part.”
Our eyes lock, and for a second, the noise of the party fades away. There's just Mia, standing close enough that I can smell the subtle scent of her shampoo, her lips curved in a smile that makes me want to kiss her right here in front of my entire extended family.
The moment between us shatters when Mason appears, clapping me on the shoulder.
