“Oh, lord, that’s awful and will take forever. Why doesn’t Nick ride with us? We’ll make sure he gets to your parents.”
Now, I’m the one getting annoyed. This old bitty won’t take a hint.
“That’s a great idea. We can show Nick around town. He’s got to be bored out of his mind watching you fix your mistake.” Sheri steps closer, doing that lip-licking thing again.
A low growl escapes from Grace, and when I glance at her, I brace myself. The claws are coming out.
“Nick, baby, this is that southern hospitality thing I was telling you about. Everyone is always showing so much kindness. Mary and her friends making us a welcome dinner last night, and stopping by unannounced today. Just last year, Sheri was gracious enough to show my friend, Pledge, around the pecan property. He had a terrible problem in his pants, and she helped him out. He was able to release some pressure. It was awfully gracious of her to step up to the plate. I did feel bad, though. Grandpa completely got the wrong idea and shot at him.”
“Grace Rae!” Mary sneers.
“Oh, that’s not all.” Grace squints at me with an evil glint in her eye, her lips starting to twitch. “Pledge called me a month later and told me Sheri was kind enough to give him a gift… the kind of gift that requires a doctor’s visit, an antibiotic, and a soothing cream you apply down there.” She points to my groin.
I know this last part is not true, but Grace pulls it off without a hitch.
“How dare you! That’s a lie!” Sheri screams.
“Grace Rae, what has gotten into you?” Mary clutches her neck in horror. “Sharon and Carl would be ashamed!”
“I’m sorry, Mary. What did I say?” There’s so much saccharine and sarcasm in Grace’s tone, I lose my battle to keep a straight face.
I drop my chin to my chest and laugh quietly.
“We’re leaving! I can’t believe the way you’ve treated us.” Mary stomps out, motioning to Sheri to follow.
Sheri spins around but stops, eyeing the kitchen island. She looks between us and the pie suspiciously. “That’s a fucking handprint.”
At this, Grace bursts into a fit of giggles and leans into me for support. I hold her close and hope like hell we have time before Mary gets to Sharon and Carl.
Because I’m going to fuck Grace again. This time, I’ll move the pies.
“The dog and pony show over?” Roy grumbles, watching another guy walk away from our table with my autograph and a dozen selfies. “Ridiculous.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
&nb
sp; “I do! I’m here to watch football, drink beer, and relax. These fools are aggravating me.”
“Everyone aggravates you. It doesn’t take much,” Logan mutters. “Maybe you should stay home.”
“And ruin tradition? No way. Not happening.”
“Touché.” Logan tips his beer before taking a long gulp. “Besides, with Grace and Six being two hours late, he kept a lot of eager townsfolk waiting.”
He doesn’t even try to hide the implication behind his statement. Grace was able to cover for us well, explaining to her mother the issue with ‘dropping’ the pie and Mary’s uninvited arrival. Sharon seemed okay, but all the Monroe men clearly weren’t fooled.
As a precaution, I sent Shaw and Mathis a message with the exact address of Roy in case he did kill me and bury me in his back yard. Even though every second with Grace this morning was worth it, I was afraid of Roy’s reaction. So far, I’m still breathing easy, but the day isn’t over.
When we finally got here today, Grace walked me around to the vendors and introduced me to tons of people. I’m used to getting attention, but it wasn’t me who these people wanted to see. Grace is loved in this town, everyone referring to her as the ‘Peach Princess’ and asking about her gallery. After an hour, she brought me to this sports bar, where she explained the men spent most of the day.
It was then I became the center of attention, meeting the men of Thomasville. It was all going smoothly until Roy had enough of the constant interruptions of his football games and ran the last guy off. Grace was right; the Monroes are the aristocrats of this town. Even with Carl being the Mayor, it’s obvious Roy holds the most respect.
I peer across the street and see Grace laughing with a bunch of women who appear to be our age. One of them hands Grace her baby, which she cuddles close, kissing its forehead.
My heart swells, watching her interact. A sense of déjà vu overwhelms me, remembering Bizzy with Brayden the first few times. It’s a beautiful sight. But with Grace, it’s more of a longing. I think about what kind of mother she’ll be.
Mother to our children. Our children…