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“You’re gonna have to ride in the middle,” Michael murmured, herding me around the hood of the truck.
“Yes, I noticed,” I replied dryly.
“His seat won’t fit in the middle.”
“It’s fine.”
“Safety first.”
We both acted like I didn’t know how much he’d loved when I sat in the middle seat of his truck, my shoulder tucked behind his and our bodies pressed together all the way to our knees.
I fought the feeling of déjà vu as we drove toward Michael’s grandparents’ house on the other edge of town. They’d lived in the same place forever, since Michael’s uncle Will was just a baby, and I couldn’t count the number of times I’d been there for family events. Birthday parties, holidays, family dinners just because—they were all held at the family home. I could still remember the first time Michael had brought me there, the anxiety I’d felt being surrounded by so many people of all ages. They’d welcomed me right into the fold, though, learning my name and including me in their conversations and their plans and their inside jokes. Michael had teased that he was using the family events to prepare me for life at the club and all the chaos that reigned there, but we’d never actually made it to a club event. The only experience I had at that particular place was limited to a tree at the back of the property where we’d carved our initials. By the time I’d been old enough and brave enough to go to a club party, I’d been long gone.
Rhett was excitedly thrumming his feet against the seat and I didn’t have the heart to stop him. He kept up a steady stream of chatter all the way to Grease and Callie’s house. He asked about food, if he could have juice, if he could play outside. He talked about trucks, pointed out a random motorcycle, pulled at his seat belt.
By the time we pulled into the driveway of the familiar house, Michael’s face was slack with sheer astonishment at the number of mismatched words Rhett had packed into a ten-minute drive, and I was trying to keep from bursting into laughter.
“I’m not sure what you did while I was sleeping, but you must have broken the dam,” I murmured as I followed him out of the truck.
“All I did was have him help me put some shit away in the garage,” he whispered back.
“You found the key,” I joked, rounding the hood of the truck. “If you want him to break out of his shell, ask him for help.”
“Good to know.”
“Out,” Rhett ordered as I opened his door.
“I’m working on it,” I said, putting a hand on his knee to stop his fidgeting. “Good gravy, you’re like a grasshopper today.”
“Not grasshoppa. I’m Rhett.”
“You’re jumping around like one.”
“I’m a boy,” he argued.
“Actually, you’re thebestboy,” I corrected, helping him out of his seat. “My favorite boy in the entire universe.”
“Go?” he asked as I set him on his feet.
“Really?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.
“Best mama,” he replied quickly. “Go?”
“I guess,” I huffed jokingly.
My pride was soothed as he grabbed ahold of my hand before walking toward Michael.
“You ready?” Michael asked Rhett. “Not sure who’s gonna be here. There might be a lot of people.”
“Ready,” Rhett said with a smile. He reached out to hold Michael’s hand and my stomach did a little swoop as we walked toward the front door that way.
“I thought I saw your truck,” Michael’s grandma called as she threw the front door open.
“Ooh, Grandma pretty,” Rhett murmured to me, making my lips twitch.
He wasn’t wrong. While Heather looked like she could still be running her kids to preschool, Callie looked like she’d be the one stuffing them with candy and sending them home. She was round and soft and beautiful, her black hair shot with silver, laugh lines around her eyes and mouth.
“Hey Grams,” Michael said, smiling proudly. “This is Rhett.”
