Page 65 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“I’m not gonna turn it on,” Anton snarks.

Fair. Plus, Presley doesn’t look worried, so why should I be?

I nod, acquiescing to my older brother’s point. Anton gestures for Otis to follow him, but Little Man doesn’t move. Instead, he eyes Anton suspiciously.

“Are you a safe grown-up?”

“I am. Do you need some proof?”

Otis looks back to us, and I nod, confirming Anton falls into the safe category.

“This guy, just like the guy with the popcorn, is my older brother. So if you ever get lost, and you see Milo or Anton here, they are safe grown-ups. Right, Mama?” I look to Presley for backup, hoping I didn’t overstep.

Thankfully, she smiles, nodding in agreement. Phew…

“Okay!” he declares, marching over to Anton.

Sure enough, Otis fits in the makeshift bucket the spades make. And he thinks it’s the best thing in the world. His laughter rings out and he does a little dance, calling for both his mom and me to look at him.

Soon enough though, he’s forgotten about us, having moved on to the shaker, sitting behind the wheel, pretending like he’s driving.

“Next generation of peach farmer on our hands?” I joke.

“There are worse things he could grow up to be.” She forces a smile, turning just enough to look over at the squad car, the pain in her voice clear.

I want to ask. Want to know more. Know her. The desire to hold her tight and figure out a way to make that pain go away grows with each passing second. To show her that she isn’t alone anymore. She has me. My family. This town.

“Want me to get a picture?” I ask instead. As much as I want to know, I also don’t want to pry. I don’t want her to think I’m trying to gain information to use against her. Because that’s what I would have done in high school.

“I got a couple.” She holds up her phone, as if to say it’s taken care of.

“Of him. But you should climb up with him. Let me get a picture of the two of you together. You have all sorts of pictures of him around the house, but almost none of the two of you.”

“That’s a mom thing. We’re always the one behind the lens, never in front of it.”

“Not anymore.” I kiss the top of her head, then give her a shove toward the shaker. “I got you.”

Looking back at me, she smiles. The smile of a woman who is thankful and happy. Meaning I’m doing something right.

“Jace too!” Otis shouts.

I quickly snap one of him and Presley, not wanting to miss the shot. Otis is all smiles and giggles, looking at her like she hung the moon. It’s the best thing I’ve seen all day.

“Then who’s going to take the picture?” I answer, trying to get another one. Preferably where they are both looking at me.

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know,” Anton says, holding out his hand to take the phone.

“You’re not a pretty face at all,” I jab.

“I dunno, Otis,” Anton says, loud enough to be heard up in the enclosed cabin. “I’m thinking maybe instead of a photo, we turn this thing on and shake some sense into Jace. Whaddya say?”

“Nooooo…” Otis answers, the sound almost swallowed by his high-pitched laugh.

“You heard the kid.”

I jump up on the other side of the rig, putting an arm around the back of the seat for balance. It’s a tight fight, three of us cramming into the small space built for one, but we make it work. I also take advantage of the situation, stealing a quick kiss from Presley.

“I saw that!” Anton calls, not missing the opportunity to poke.

“Wasn’t hiding it,” I call back, not letting him get to me.

We pose for the photo, then climb on down, making room for the next family that wants a turn. Anton doesn’t hold back in giving me shit, holding up his little finger as a taunt, trying to say I’m wrapped around Presley’s. What he doesn’t know is that it’s both her and Otis. Not that he has room to talk—he’d do anything for his fiancée, Sawyer.

“Fire truck?” Otis asks, completely missing the silent jabs Anton and I are tossing at each other.

“Sure thing, Little Man. Lead the way.” Wait, no…wrong response.

Before I can correct myself, Otis slips his hand in mine, squeezing tight and trying to drag me forward. That little touch is all it takes. My heart bursts, exploding from the inside out, oozing everywhere and coating my insides with a heavy, warm sensation. One that I don’t dare name out loud.

All I know is that it’s deep and real.

I look to Presley, holding out my other hand, ready to take on the rest of this day—this adventure—together.

“Let’s go, Mama.”