Better to put it out there first so we could control the narrative. As soon as we approached my publicist Miranda, she set it in motion.
My phone rings. Seeing it’s Miranda, I pick it up. “I just finished it.”
“It’s a bit of a fluff piece, but still sympathetic. About what I expected that from Glow. How do you feel?”
“Same, but it’s okay. I wanted it to be no big deal. It’s in the past. Leave it there, you know?”
“Right. I think we took the wind out of the sails of anyone who might try to drag this out and make it into some scandal. And that’s what we wanted.”
She’s right. I still don’t feel great about putting Logan through that, though.
Someone knocks at the kitchen door. By the tentative tap, it can only be my momma. “Come in.”
“Is it here?” she asks.
I pass her the magazine. She flips to the article and reads it with one hand pressed to her throat. “I just hate this for Logan,” she whispers when she’s finished.
She sets the glossy pages down on the kitchen table. “Is he okay?”
Well, look who’s all team Rooster now.
I hadn’t been looking forward to telling her we were engaged, but Rooster insisted. She took the news well. Better than I expected. No prenup talk. Only excited chatter about possible dresses and locations.
The back door opens and Rooster fills the space. He lifts his eyebrows as I hurry over.
“What’s up, chickadee?” he rumbles, pulling me in for a quick kiss. He nods to my mother. “Hey, Lynn.”
“Were you careful out there?” she asks, scowling at his work gloves.
“Always.”
“Are you hungry?”
Momma’s been taking that quote about cooking-is-visible-affection seriously while she’s visiting us.
Rooster’s lips curve into a sly smile. “I could eat.”
“Lordy,” I mutter.
“Good.” Momma says, patting his arm with affection on her way to the refrigerator.
He rubs his hand over his stomach, almost lifting his shirt and giving me a peek. “I worked up an appetite clearing those trees, in the hope there’d be chicken-fried steak in my future.”
“I’ll bet you did,” I mutter.
His gaze lands on the magazine. “Is that it?”
“Yeah. Miranda sent us an early copy.”
He walks over and picks it up. Without hesitation, he flips through until he finds the article. His lips quirk. “I like the picture.” He turns so I can see the full two-page spread of us canoodling for the camera.
Glow had offered to do our “official” engagement photos with the exclusive interview. I didn’t have the heart to tell them Trinity had already taken our engagement photos. They were for us, anyway. Not for the public.
“They all came out nice.” I point to the one showing off my ring and stop to sigh at the sweet caption under the picture.
“Shelby’s the center of my universe. I needed a ring to express that, so she never forgets.”
I swear his cheeks redden. “I’m not as gifted with the words as you are.”
I link my arm through his. “You’re more gifted than you think.”
Momma steps up on Rooster’s other side and peers at the magazine. “Are you okay with it, Logan?” she asks softly.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “I am. I don’t have anything to hide.” He shrugs. “This way it’s out already out there. No one’s ‘digging up dirt’ and springing it on Shelby.”
Momma clenches her fists. “That girl better not come near either of ya again, or I’ll give her the ass-whoopin’ her momma shoulda,” she threatens, waving her wooden spoon in the air. She’d about had a fit when we told her what Ashley did.
Logan and I end up setting the table together while momma cooks.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I whisper as I set the magazine aside. Not that we can change it now.
He glances at the magazine one last time. “Yeah, I really am. I’ve been blindsided too many times in my life. It’s better to be ahead of things for once.” He kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. He’s the one who had to open up old wounds.
“Will Jensen be joining us for dinner?” Momma asks without turning around.
“He’s outside. I’ll ask him.”
The kitchen door swings open. “Did someone call for me?” Jigsaw asks, eyes glued to my momma.
“No,” Rooster says, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Absolutely no one asked for you.”
“I did, Jensen,” Momma says. “Join us for dinner.”
“You still need the ride to the airport tomorrow, Lynn?” Jiggy asks.
I open my mouth to explain Rooster and I have it covered, but Momma cuts me off.
“That’d be nice. Thank you.” She turns and flashes a quick smile at Rooster and me. “I don’t want to put you two out any more than I already have.”
“Bullcrap,” I whisper to Rooster.
He raises his hands in the air. “Let it go, chickadee.” His gaze shifts to the two of them over by the stove. “Just let it go.”