Power Play (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 2)

“Because you’ve been grilling the hell out of her!” I yell, and I don’t care who hears me. “That’s unfair. The moment she said what her parents did, you decided she wasn’t for me. She was nervous as hell to meet you, and you—”

My words drop off when Posey comes up beside my mother, her phone down at her side. Mom looks up at her, and Posey takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for taking that call. One of the questions you missed was about my health. I have a thyroid disease, and that was my pharmacy with news they couldn’t fill my prescription, so I had to deal with that immediately.”

Mom seems caught off guard. “Oh, it’s fine.”

But it’s isn’t fine. Posey’s eyes are dark and focused on my mother. “And while my parents haven’t met Boon as my boyfriend, they will absolutely adore him because he is a good man,” she says, her shoulders back, and I want to scream out in victory. “They don’t care about money or social standing. This isn’t the 1920s. They care about how he treats me. And he treats me like the queen I am.”

There’s my girl.

My mom is speechless as she looks away. “With our experience—”

“I am not Julia. Boon knows that, and I thought you would give me the benefit of the doubt to realize I’m not either.”

Mom presses her lips together, her eyes cutting back to Posey’s. “You can understand my worries.”

She shrugs. “Sure, but I would hope you’d give me a chance before you cast judgment,” she says simply. “Yes, I’m not showing my feelings for Boon all out in the open like he does with me. He’s comfortable with you. I am not. You have no clue what I feel for him because I haven’t shown you. I shouldn’t have to, in all honesty, because as long as he is happy, then what is the issue?”

A silence falls over the table, and my mom scoots her chair back, standing up so that she isn’t being looked down on. I stand up with them, just as she says, “I don’t like your tone, missy.”

“My name is Posey,” she says sternly. “And I apologize for my tone. I hadn’t realized I had one, but I don’t like my relationship with Boon being questioned. I have never in my life met anyone like him. No one has ever touched my soul the way he does. He makes me feel like I am the only person in the world he wants to see, touch, and talk to, and that is something I’m not willing to allow anyone to doubt. You can doubt me all you want, but my feelings for Boon, you are not allowed to touch.”

“I can and I will if I feel you don’t feel for—”

“I love him,” she says very firmly. Holy shit, did Posey just say that? Everything inside me explodes, and my heart screams for her. My body tingles, and I wish she’d look at me. I’d tell her I feel the exact same and wrap her in my arms, but she keeps her eyes on my mother.

“I love him more than I love myself most days, and I would never hurt him. I have the bar set crazy high for my romantic expectations, given how much my parents love each other, and Boon exceeds them. I push him to be a better player, and he pushes me to be a better coach. We challenge each other, but we love even harder. My day doesn’t start if I don’t speak with him. You can think what you want about me, but as long as he loves me and wants to be with me, I will be with him.” She’s holding her breath as she turns, walking around the table to where her bag is hanging off her chair. Not meeting my gaze, she takes her purse and says, “Baby, I’m sorry, but I need to go get my meds taken care of. Can you call me later?”

I grab hold of her bag, stopping her. She looks up at me, and she’s shaking. Lord, she’s killing me. I grab her jaw, and her wide-eyed gaze meets mine. “No.”

“No?” she says, and I can see the anxiety swimming in her blue depths. “I’m sorry. I know she’s your mom and my mom is probably gonna kill me, but—”

“No, love. I’m not saying no because of that. I’m saying no because I’m coming with you.”

Her lip wobbles, but tears don’t fall. “Oh.”

“Posey, I love you. I love you so damn much.”

She leans into me, her hand coming up to trace the scar along my cheek. That’s one of the things I absolutely love about her—she doesn’t just see my scar; she sees me. “You do?”

“Oh, lovely, I always have. Been a while now, ever since the night you weren’t feeling well and I held you in that white dress I still dream about.”