Bring It Home (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 3)

Thank God. “Yeah, I’m down.”

“Great. Take your time. Though, my mom and dad are excited to meet the guy who snatched Posey up.”

I flash him a smirk. “I hear they’re pretty awesome people.”

“The best,” he says with a wink, and then he heads for the house. I lean against his truck and bite the inside of my cheek as I go to my mom’s contact. Shea’s words from earlier are still swirling over and over in my head. I think I know how this conversation is about to go, and I’m truly scared. It’s always been my mom and me, and whatever guy she brings in, but I feel that may not be the case anymore. I take in a deep breath and hit her contact.

She answers right away.

“Boon. I’ve been trying to reach you,” she says sternly. “You are being ridiculous.”

I swallow hard. “Elli says she’s been trying to reach you.”

“So, you call when I don’t answer her?”

“Mom, are you coming to the wedding?”

She pauses. “No. I’m back home.”

My stomach drops.

“I told you, I don’t think you’re making a good choice, and I refuse to watch you do this.”

I’m surprised by the emotion that takes over. I suspected it would go down like this, but the sadness is still overwhelming. “Okay. Have a good life, Mom.”

“Boon! Are you serious?

“Yes. I told you, if you can’t support my choice, the woman I love, then there is no place for you in my life.”

“That is insane! You need to see that I am right.”

“Mom, I won’t argue with you.”

“I gave you fucking life. I made you who you are!”

“I know, and thank you. Thank you so much for raising me to be the man I am. A man who can love and be loved fully. I will always love you for who I am—”

“This is pathetic. So, what? You’re pushing me out for her?”

“I don’t want to, but you’re forcing my hand.”

“And what about my bills you’ve been paying?”

I press my lips together, and I hate the traitorous tear that runs down my cheek. She doesn’t care about anything but her bills. She doesn’t care about who I love, the man I am, or the life I am making. She’s always been a bit selfish, but I never expected this. “Goodbye, Mom.”

I hang up and quickly block her contact. I let my head fall back, looking up at the sky, which is the most gorgeous shade of blue with puffy white clouds. I take in a deep breath, letting it out shakily as a sob bubbles in my chest. I don’t know what I am searching for in the clouds. A solution, a promise that it’s okay that no one will be there for me at my wedding. Oh, wait, I’ve got Wes. I always have Wes, but it isn’t about who is there for me—it’s about who I am marrying. I close my eyes as I take in another deep breath. When a body presses into mine, I look down to see Posey wrapping her arms around me and nuzzling her nose into my chest.

I kiss the top of her head as she says, “I love you.”

I smile against her hair. “I love you, my lovely,” I say, cupping her ass in my hands.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now,” I say simply, and she rests against me as I hold her. I take in her scent, enjoying the closeness—needing it, really. After a few minutes, I whisper, “She isn’t coming.”

She sucks in a sharp breath. “She isn’t?”

“No,” I say, my voice breaking.

“Why? What did I do?”

“Absolutely nothing,” I insist, kissing her once more. “It’s not you. It’s her and her selfish jealousy issues.”

“So, I can’t fix it?”

“No, lovely, you can’t,” I admit as I clear my throat, and I know that bothers her. I can feel it in the tautness of her body.

“Can I call her?”

“No, Posey. Promise me now you won’t. I handled it. It’s done. She went back home.”

I feel her shake her head. “I’m sorry. That’s crazy.”

I truly don’t believe it is. I may be blinded by my love for Posey, but she is a good person and has always been respectful. I think it really is about the money with my mom, which is downright pathetic. “Just let it be. I’m fine.”

She tilts her head as she looks into my eyes. “So, what can I do?”

“Just love me.”

“Always,” she says as a promise, like she always does, and I burrow my nose in her hair. As I hold her ass, I take in the orange blossom shampoo she started using since it was the only gluten-free shampoo she liked at Target.

“You know what I need?”

She moves her head to look up at me. “What?”

“A Target date with slushies and popcorn.”

Her face lights up. “I am due for one, too.” She kisses my chin. “But my grandparents want to meet you. Can we go after?”