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I explain how we met in Vegas a month ago and had an instant attraction but left the fine details out because that’s too awkward to discuss. Then I tell her about the wedding and how Zoey’s here to see if we can really make this work.
Zoey smiles and agrees with everything I’m saying. When I’m finished, she meekly speaks. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
Grandma pulls her into a big hug. “Honey, ’round here, we hug when we meet new people. So you might as well get used to it.” She pulls back but grabs Zoey’s hands. “Welcome to the family. You caught a good one here.” Grandma gives Zoey a wink, causing us to smile. If Grandma accepts Zoey, the rest will, too, because that woman sets the precedent for everything.
We walk away, and Zoey leans in and whispers, “I like her a lot.”
“Were you scared?” I tease.
She snickers. “Just a little. The woman is a little intimidating.”
I grunt. “You have no idea.”
We try to help with decorations but get bombarded at every turn, and I’m forced to personally introduce her. By the time my cousins come over to give me a hard time, there’s no way Zoey’ll remember anyone’s names. Between all the aunts and uncles, cousins, neighbors, family friends, and church members, even I’m a bit overwhelmed. They have no filter and say the first thing that comes to mind, regardless if it’s embarrassing or not. It’s a relief not to hide being married, but I don’t tell anyone it was all based on a dare from Diesel. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.
Eventually, Diesel arrives with a wrapped present for Rowan, and I’m half-tempted to ask him what it is so I can make sure it’s nothing inappropriate she can’t open in front of our family.
Someone yells that Rowan’s parked in the front, so I grab Zoey, and we hide behind the bar. I lean over and kiss her, not caring who’s watching now that people know. When the bell above the door dings, we all pop up and scream, “Surprise,” and I watch as my sister beams and shrieks in shock.
I glance over at Zoey, and she’s wearing the biggest most genuine smile I’ve ever seen. She looks so happy here, and everyone loves her just as I knew they would. I know what we have is real, and as crazy as it sounds, I don’t want her to leave.
Chapter Ten
Zoey
The surprise party for Rowan was amazing, and twenty-four hours later, I’m still buzzing. I was worried I wouldn’t fit in, concerned they wouldn’t approve of our rushed marriage, but I quickly learned how incredibly supportive Riley’s family is. Every person I talked to was so sweet and genuinely interested in learning about me. I chatted about being a hairdresser, and instead of feeling like I wasn’t good enough, they were impressed. They accept me for who I am, and that’s something I’ve never really experienced. Even though I’ve only been here for a day, I already love his family so much.
Last night when Riley dropped me off at the B&B, he reminded me about his grandma’s invite to church this morning and lunch at his parents’ house afterward. Luckily, I packed a few nice outfits and enjoyed sitting between him and Grandma Bishop at the service. We were both taken by surprise when the pastor asked us to stand as husband and wife so we could be introduced to the congregation as newlyweds. As soon as it was over, Riley apologized like crazy, but all I could do was laugh. However, the hard part isn’t over yet. I’m sure lunch with his parents will be interesting since it’ll be small and intimate with more questions.
“They don’t bite,” Riley reassures me as he leads me up the porch.
“I know. I just want them to like me,” I admit before we reach the front door.
“Just be yourself. You’re amazing.” He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a sweet kiss to my knuckles.
I roll my eyes and laugh. “How do you know? I could be a crazy chick who takes advantage of rowdy cowboys.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not arguing that. You’d almost have to be to accept one of Diesel’s dares, but look where it got us.” Before we walk in, he cups my cheeks in his rough palms and leans forward, painting my lips with his. I relax and melt into him until we’re lost in each other’s touch. When the front door swings open and Rowan clears her throat, we break apart.
“Get. A. Room,” she taunts, smirking as she leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed.
A blush covers my cheeks, and I tuck my hair behind my ears. Rowan is only a year younger than me, and just from chatting with her briefly at the party yesterday, I know we could be good friends. She gives no fucks about anything and speaks what’s on her mind, something I’ve quickly learned is a Bishop trait.
