“Stop looking at me like that, Riggins. Your mom has fried chicken with my name on it. Come on.” She holds her hand out for me, tossing her bag over the opposite shoulder. I take her hand and lead her up to the house. She pulls free once we reach the front door, and even though I hate it, I don’t pressure her. Instead, I place my hand on the small of her back and lead her into the house.Chapter 13SawyerThey have a piece of my heart—all seven of them. Tonight is the first time since I lost my parents that I’ve felt as though I was a part of a family. Lena and Stanley welcomed me into their home, to their table, and treated me as if they’ve known me for years. Royce and his brothers were cutting up all through dinner, recapping our day out on the lake, and every once in a while, Royce would slide his hand under the table and give my thigh a soft, reassuring squeeze. It’s almost as if this entire day has been a fairy tale.
“I hope you all saved room for dessert. I made apple pie.”
“I hope you made more than one,” Owen comments. Lena gives him a look that says “you know I did,” and disappears into the kitchen. Not a minute later, she’s back with a tray carrying two pies that smell like heaven.
“There’s two more where this came from. Let me grab the ice cream.”
“We love you, Momma!” Marshall calls out.
“Kiss ass,” Conrad mutters.
“Come on, man, it’s her apple pie with vanilla ice cream,” Marshall defends.
“You doing okay?” Royce asks, leaning in and placing his lips next to my ear.
I can’t stop the goose bumps that break out across my skin. He notices immediately and traces his index finger over my bare shoulder.
“Yes.” I nod as if he needs to see the visual acceptance that I am indeed doing okay.
“Uh-hm.” A voice clears. Royce gives me a lazy grin and a wink, making him seem so carefree before turning to face whichever of his brothers who deemed it necessary to break into our moment.
“What’s up?” Royce leans back in his chair and throws his arm over the back of mine, his fingers softly caressing the bare skin of my shoulder.
This man is trying to kill me.
In front of his family.
“Dig in,” his mom says, and I can only assume that she busted us… snuggling, flirting, canoodling? Is that a thing these days?
The apple pie is delicious and hit the spot after that meal and a long day out on the lake. I insist on helping Lena clean up, and she comments how nice it is to have another woman around. I’m tempted to ask her how often other women are here eating with them around their table, but I bite my tongue. It’s none of my business, but I am curious.
“You two need a ride?” Owen asks.
“Nah, Sawyer only had one, and that was hours ago. She can drive us home.”
Us. Home. Royce doesn’t seem the least bit fazed at how that sounds.
“You’re letting her drive your car?” Conrad asks.
Royce shrugs. “She’s of legal age and has a driver’s license.”
“Yeah, but—” Conrad starts, but Owen reaches out and smacks him on the back of the head, and he closes his mouth.
I glance over at him. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” Royce assures me. “You ready to head out?”
“Yes.” I turn to face his parents. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. Today was so much fun, and the food was delicious.”
“You’re always welcome,” Lena assures me.
“You keep those boys in line.” Stanley points at me, wearing a kind smile.
“Thank you,” I say again when Lena steps forward and wraps me in a hug. “It was so nice to meet you.”
“All right, don’t scare her off,” Royce says, pulling on my hand, making his mother release me from her hold.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner,” Royce tells his parents.
“Oh, Sawyer, are you coming tomorrow? There’s always plenty,” Lena offers.
“Thank you,” I say politely. I assume it’s some kind of family gathering. “I have a lot to do to get ready for the workweek.” That sounds better than I’m not sure your son wants me here.
“Like what?” Marshall asks.
“Marshall,” Lena scolds him. “You don’t pry.”
“She started it.” Marshall winks at me, making me laugh.
“Laundry, the grocery store, cleaning my apartment, the list goes on and on.”
“I can come help with all of that. You don’t want to miss one of Momma’s Sunday dinners.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Royce speaks up before I have a chance to.
I stiffen at his blatant refusal of my attendance. He notices and squeezes my hand. When I look up into his eyes, they tell me a different story. “If she needs help, I’ll do it. But don’t pressure her,” he says, not taking his eyes off mine. “Let her make her own choice.” He breaks the connection and looks over at his brothers. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Mom, Dad, thanks for everything.”