Bring It Home (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 3)

“I just can’t believe my baby girl is getting married.”

“Believe it, Grandma. It’s happening.”

“You’re too young, just a baby.”

I side-eye her. “You got married at eighteen.”

“I was an idiot.”

Everyone starts laughing as her fingers lace with mine. “Liar. Y’all have been together like fifty years.”

She smiles at me in the mirror. Everyone says I look like her, but I don’t see it. Maybe the eyes, but the rest of me is my mom. I’ve always been Grandma’s favorite, though. We’d cook, craft, and just hang. Golden Girls is our jam, and I even gave her the log-in to my Hulu so she can still watch it. She’s always said I had an old soul. As I hold her hand, feeling the wrinkles, I’m so thankful I waited to do this until she could be here. I want her to be here.

“Want to know the secret to a good marriage?”

I beam at her. Piper is carefully putting glitter on my eye, and I swear I’m gonna look like that ice queen Shelli played way back when on Broadway. “Sure.”

“Always hide the receipts when you go shopping.” Oh, this is going to be good. Everyone is laughing, agreeing, as she holds my gaze. “Always make sure he is full. Carry snacks—I swear, they can act like toddlers sometimes. Plus, when you’re hungry, then you have snacks.” I grin widely, and for some reason, my eyes are welling up. This kind of advice doesn’t just come at any time. No, it’s special for a special day like this. “Never let him have the remote, or you’ll be stuck watching hockey, SportsCenter, or anything that deals with any sport at all.”

Mom giggles as Sofia nods. “It’s so bad!”

Grandma nods, but I grin. “Grandma, I love sports. It’s okay.”

“Okay, ignore that one. But my last bit of advice, my sweet, beautiful girl,” she says slowly, her eyes burning into mine. It’s almost like staring into my dad’s eyes. She’s so beautiful.

“Yeah?”

It’s like everyone is waiting too. The girls have stopped getting me ready. Mom and Harper are listening intently instead of finishing my mom’s hair. All eyes are on Grandma.

With the widest smile and such excitement in her eyes, she says, “Blow jobs, honey. You have to suck that cock like a porn star, and I promise you’ll get everything you want.”

I think I just swallowed my tongue. Everyone loses their shit laughing. Except my mom. She cries out, “Jenna! For the love of God!”

Grandma just looks at her. “What? I’m not stupid. I know how you have Shea wrapped around your finger and how I have Mark.”

“That’s your granddaughter!”

She nods. “My knocked-up granddaughter. She’s obviously been around the bases a time or two.”

I can’t breathe, I am laughing so hard. The whole room is in a ruckus, and I am loving every second of it. When Shelli pops her head in, I’m crying, I’m laughing so hard. “What is happening?”

Grandma looks at Shelli with a straight look. “How do you keep a man?”

Shelli grins like a cat with a canary in her mouth. “Keep him fed and drained.”

“Jesus Lord!” my mom cries, but I’m lost in my giggles. I hold my belly as I laugh, and as I look around the room at everyone laughing and cutting up, it’s like growing up all over again. Yes, we had our dramas—people are human—but this is what I loved. The laughter, the comfort, and the love that my mom provides everyone with.

Once the giggles subside, it’s time to get my dress on. As my grandma and mom pull up my dress, both stopping to rub my belly, Shelli stands behind me to put in my floral headpiece. As they adjust and start to zip, I can see into the kitchen where Audrey has put together a beautiful masterpiece of a cake with lace designs and orchid flowers. If I’d known, I would have told her I only needed one tier, but she did three. Tears rush to my eyes at the outpouring of love I am receiving from all these amazing women. When my mom squeezes my shoulder, I take in a deep breath.

“All right, everyone! Come on! She’s about to see herself!” Mom yells as Shelli steps up to me with my shoes, helping me into them. Soon, everyone is running into the room. Amelia’s son Carter squeals in excitement, and I grin at him as everyone beams at me, tears in their eyes. “Okay, sweetheart.”

Why am I nervous? I hold my breath as I turn slowly, and the image that looks back at me… I don’t believe it’s me. My hair is up in a huge, slick bun with a thick braid wrapped around it. On the side is the comb of beautiful orchids. I may resemble the ice queen from Shelli’s Broadway show, but a Southern ice queen—even though that makes no damn sense. Either way, I’m stunningly beautiful.