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“Okay, gloves are off, huh?” Bennett opened his mouth to say something likely awful to Jackson, but Grace strode in, saving her youngest son from a verbal lashing.

“There you are, Jackson.” Her face soured. “You look like you wrestled with a cow.”

“Close. The bull in the south field got loose.”

“Can I safely assume you won’t be coming to dinner like this?”

“Mom, I just walked in the door.”

Grace’s eyebrows raised as if to say “And?”.

“I was just heading to the shower,” Jax grumbled.

“Quickly, please. We didn’t raise and butcher this beef to let it grow cold on our plates.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He downed a glass of water over the sink and refilled it.

On the way out, Jax looked back at Maggie, giving her two thumbs up and a smile. There was the boy she’d loved like a brother.

She laughed and shook her head. “Anyway, do you need any help with the wedding stuff, Grace?”

“Not a chance. I heard from a little birdie that you’re going on a date with my son, and I’d like nothing more than that from you, Margaret Newman.” She even pinched Maggie’s arm affectionately, sending warmth through Maggie’s veins.

“She has a point,” Bennett said, and Maggie playfully nudged him with her hip as she strode by, her hands occupied with a tray of water glasses.

This had been her second home for so much of her teen years, and right now it felt the same—like she’d come home after a long time away.

This place made her happy, and the Marshalls were part of it.

Only one hesitation cropped up.

This move, this decision to stay would come at a cost. What would her friend think about Maggie’s decision to move the company here, to Austin, so she could pursue both lives?

The hesitancy lingered even as Maggie’s friends all gathered around the table, filling seats and places in her heart that longed for a family, and which had been empty for so long. Only a ringing truth pushed it away.

She wanted this, even if she was forced to settle a debt to make it happen.

*

The doorbell rang precisely at six, and Bennett shook his hands free of the nerves taking up residence there. This was just any ol’ dinner with a woman he’d known most of his life. Nothing to be nervous about. That didn’t stop him from double-checking his hair once more in the reflection of the framed photo beside the front door.

He opened the door and lost whatever breath he had.

“Wow,” he said, giving his hands another subtle shake as he welcomed Maggie in. “You look…”

“Is it silly? It’s too much, isn’t it?” she asked.

She handed him a tart, but he wasn’t half as interested in the dessert as he was in Maggie. Her hair was set in loose waves and her eyes had a thin layer of color on them, making them shine under the waning daylight. But her dress… his mouth had gone dry the minute his gaze had been able to take it in. It was a loose-fitting, white floral sundress with thin straps that showed off Maggie’s toned, sun-baked shoulders—a testament to the hard work she’d been up to. Nothing was more attractive than that.

And to think you doubted she’d be up to the task.

“No, it’s…” He struggled for the right word. Dang it. He was messing this up. He put the pastry on the foyer table, then tilting her chin up, he met her gaze before cupping her cheeks and lightly grazing her lips with his. “It’s perfect,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “You’ve always been beautiful, Maggie, but you look the most like you I’ve ever seen. Not all gussied up like this, though I have to admit, your eyes and hair and that outfit are traffic-stopping. But the past week, you look happier. More at peace than you were even back then.”

She stepped back, beaming. “Did you just kiss me, Bennett Tucker Marshall?”

“All that gushing over your beauty and that’s what you got out of it?” he teased.

“That said it all.”