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Kenna laughs, returning my Ma's embrace. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Carmichael. I've heard a lot about you."
"None of it is true, dear. He's a wicked boy. Don't believe a word he says."
"Ma!" I protest, laughing. "Stop lying to her. You know damn well that you're a menace. And let her up for air before you scare her off."
My dad smacks me over the back of the head. "Don't talk to your Ma that way, boy."
"Shit. Sorry," I grumble, ducking out of the line of fire before he smacks me over the head again. He's got good aim. He's had a lot of years of practice.
Ma lets Kenna up for air, cupping her cheeks between her palms to get a good look at her. "I just adore you already," she whispers to my girl, over the moon with excitement. "It's about time I've got some girls around here to help keep these boys in line."
"You've done a great job, Mrs. Carmichael," Kenna says to my mom. "He's a good boy. Wicked and annoyingly bossy. But good."
"Hey!" I protest, narrowing my eyes on her.
She shoots me a mischievous look, completely unrepentant. I should have known she and my Ma would be on the same side. They're going to be thick as thieves.
"He is bossy," Ma agrees. "He gets it from his father."
"Hey now," Dad grumbles like he doesn't know what she's talking about. As if we aren't just like him. "Don't bring me into this shit. I didn't do anything."
Ma huffs at him before looping her arm through Kenna's to drag her into the house. "I want to hear all about you, Kenna. My son hasn't told me anything." She shoots me a baleful look over her shoulder. "He's a cruel boy."
"Ma!" I say, laughing. "I brought her to meet you, didn't I?"
"That was rude of him, wasn't it?" Kenna says, taking her side. She pats Ma's hand, encouraging her. As if she needs any of that. The woman is already a menace. Clearly. And Kenna is loving every fucking minute of it.
I watch the two of them, shaking my head and grinning ear to ear. If this is what my future looks like, I'm fucked. And I can't fucking wait.
Dad pats me on the back. "Never come between a Southern woman and the future daughter-in-law she's been praying for, son. She'll be reminding you of it for the rest of your life."
"Uh, Zion and Zayne did the same thing," I complain. "Why isn't she giving them hell?"
Dad arches a brow. "What? You think she can't give all three of you hell at the same time? She's been doing it your whole life."
"Jesus." I shake my head and then laugh. He's not fucking wrong about that.
"How's she doing?" Dad asks me. He knows what happened. So does Ma, but Ma won't bring it up to Kenna unless Kenna brings it up first. She may be hell on wheels, but she's got a gentle soul.
"Good. She's good."
He jerks his chin in a nod. "Good. You make sure she stays that way. That's your job now."
"Yes, sir."
I turn to head into the house, determined to keep Ma from telling Kenna any of the embarrassing shit I did as a kid—and let's be honest, there's a lot of that—but Zayne's truck pulls up at the curb.
Dad and I wait as he hops out. A few seconds later, Zion climbs out of the back, his arm still in a sling. He's mad as hell about that, but Makenzie is making sure he wears it.
They circle around the truck, opening the doors.
"Well, shit," I mutter as they help Emma and Makenzie out of the truck. "Guess we're all meeting Ma today."
"Jesus Christ," Dad grumbles. "She's not going to stop talking about this shit for the next six years."
I chuckle, shooting him a look that says don't bullshit me. "We both know seeing her happy is your favorite fucking thing in the world. It always has been."
He grins, not denying it. "Doesn't mean I can't bitch at you boys for fucking up my plans for her."
