Page 32 of Call It Love (Sterling Mill #5)

Anna

The front porch light glowed warm and welcoming, but I still sat in my car, hands gripping the steering wheel for a full minute, like I was bracing for impact.

It was just a girls’ night. Drinks. Snacks—of which I’d brought both sweet and savory since I didn’t know what they liked. Hopefully, some laughs. No big deal.

Except it felt very much like a big deal.

I hadn’t hung out with any of them since high school. Not since my name meant something other than Mason’s wife . And even though Bristol had included me, the weight of the awkward girl I once was came rushing back.

I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I’d dressed casually. Light makeup. Light curls. Jeans paired with a loose top—cute, comfortable, and exactly the kind that would have made Mason roll his eyes.

I grabbed the plates of bruschetta and lemon bars I’d made, squared my shoulders, and stepped out of the car. Before I even made it up the front steps, the front door flew open.

A woman I didn’t recognize leaned against the door frame, a half-full glass in her hand. Her glossy ponytail, perfect makeup, and blazer with jeans made her look like she’d just stepped out of a lifestyle blog—until she smirked.

“You coming in, or are you still rehearsing how this evening’s going to pan out?” she asked. “No judgment. I’ve done the same.”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off, but her tone was more amused than hostile.

A breath of laughter slipped out. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

“You don’t,” she said, waving her glass. “I just got up for a refill and spotted you. I was hoping you weren’t going to make a run for it. Us non-locals have to stick together, you know.”

“I’m Anna. I used to live here, but it’s been a while.”

“Paige,” she said, stepping aside to let me in. “Bristol’s best friend and professional chaos wrangler. I don’t bite. Unless it’s the last piece of chocolate. Then it’s every woman for herself.”

Recognition clicked. She ran the salon side of the business with Bristol. I’d heard of her in passing, but never expected her to be this…funny. Something about her energy and irreverence made me feel like I didn’t have to try as hard here.

“It’s not chocolate, but hopefully, you won’t hold that against me.” I held out the plates wrapped in Saran Wrap.

She peeked at the plates and gave a low whistle. “Bruschetta and lemon bars? Oh, we’re absolutely friends now. Forget chocolate. In fact, we should ditch the rest of them and eat these ourselves.”

“Now Paige,” another voice piped up, “no kidnapping our new friend. ”

Another woman stepped into the foyer. Her smile lit up the space before she even spoke.

Everything from the multiple bangles jingling on her arms to her bright pink lipstick said she was someone who exuded confidence.

The kind of person who sparkled not because she was trying, but just because she couldn’t help it.

“Anna! I’m so glad Bristol talked you into coming. Welcome.” She reached out and clasped my hand in both of hers like we were already close friends. “We met briefly once before, but I know it’s overwhelming to remember so many names. I’m Megan.”

Her greeting was so effortless and genuine that my nerves instantly relaxed.

“Thank you. I’m grateful to be included.”

“I’ll take these,” Paige said, slipping the plates from my hand and turning toward the front door as if she might actually carry through with her earlier idea.

“Paige Hartfeld, you put those in the living room with everything else,” Megan warned, her bracelets clinking as her hands flew to her hips.

Paige winked over her shoulder. “It was worth a try.” She spun around and headed in the opposite direction.

“We’re all set up in the living room,” Megan said, shaking her head as she watched Paige disappear down the hallway.

I followed her through the foyer, the hum of voices growing louder as I stepped into the living room.

The house had pops of color in every direction—sunny yellows, soft blues, and bold patterns on throw pillows and paintings.

Like the people who lived here weren’t afraid to embrace life.

It was a stylish room that could be in a magazine, yet still felt warm and homey.

Em and Bristol sat on the couch talking to another woman whom I recognized as the real estate agent I’d spoken to about finding a place to live. Teagan, I believed her name was.

Paige set the plates down, and Em immediately snatched up a piece of bruschetta. “Oh, my,” she said, closing her eyes after she took a bite. “I can’t believe Chase got to you first. I could really use you at the restaurant we’re opening.”

Her welcome did wonders to make my nerves settle. “I’m happy to share recipes. Maybe we can swap a few.”

“Deal.”

I hovered for a second, unsure where to land. Bristol caught my hesitation.

“Come sit,” she said, gesturing to the spot on the couch beside her.

Megan held up a glass and gestured toward a pitcher. “Sangria?”

“Just to warn you, though,” Em added, lifting her own glass, “this stuff is delicious, but don’t plan on driving home if you’ve had a couple of glasses. I make Zach drop me off and pick me up.”

“You’re just a lightweight,” Cam teased, tossing a grin at her cousin.

I smiled politely, but shook my head. “No, thank you.”

Bristol, ever perceptive, tilted her head. “Not a sangria fan?”

“Not exactly. I’ve just gotten used to keeping my head clear.” I tried to make it sound casual, but they must have sounded more foreboding than I meant for them to because something flickered in Bristol’s eyes. Fortunately, she didn’t press.

“Fair enough,” Megan said easily. “We’ve got plenty of options. I make a pretty amazing fizzy lemonade, if I say so myself.” She gave a dramatic wink. “And I do say.”

Relieved, I exhaled and smiled. “That sounds great.”

Drinks poured and plates filled, everyone curled up in one of the oversized chairs or nestled onto the couch. They all seemed so at home. I tried to do the same.

“So, Anna,” Teagan said, leaning back in her chair with a smirk, “I heard you upstaged Beverly the other night. Everyone I’ve talked to seems really excited about this dance. But I feel I should warn you, if you do too good of a job, she’ll rope you into planning everything from now on.”

Em snorted. “Don’t scare her.” Then she leaned in, stage-whispering, “But she’s not wrong.”

I chuckled, feeling more at ease. “I don’t mind. I used to help plan a lot of fundraisers. I actually enjoy it.” I paused and creased my brow. “But usually, I have more time. Right now, I have about five weeks, no caterer, and no band. Not to mention a barn that needs to be emptied and cleaned.”

Megan waved her hand. “Don’t worry about the food. Sterling Mill lives for a potluck. And I have to say, they’re usually fantastic. You might say a few of the ladies—and a few men—are pretty competitive with their dishes. We’ll eat better than most catered events.”

“Too bad we can’t get Hunter Hewes,” Cam mused. “He’s a hometown boy.”

“He’s already performing at Milling About in the fall,” Megan chimed in. “His aunt talked him into it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Teagan frowned at her plate at the mention of the famous country star’s name. But no one commented.

“I might know someone,” Bristol offered, leaning forward.

“Dad and I met this guy who played at some events we went to. His name is Bartholomew, but he prefers to go by Slim. Tall, skinny, and can play anything with strings, especially the banjo. His band’s called Slim Pickins .

They play bluegrass and covers. He owes me a favor. I’ll reach out to him if you want.”

“That would be amazing,” I exclaimed.

“I had a cancellation for two rooms just this morning for the weekend of the dance,” Em added. “I’ll hold it back and donate the rooms for them to stay in. That will help cover expenses.”

I stared at them all, slightly stunned. “You guys, this is so great. I don’t know how to thank you,” I said.

Cam shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s what we do.”

The girls drifted into smaller conversations. Teagan laughed with Megan about something involving a property she’d shown, and Bristol and Em rolled their eyes about a PTA meeting. Everything fell into a comforting, easy rhythm.

I sank deeper into the couch, letting the steady buzz of conversation soak into my subconscious. I felt safe. Not just tolerated, but that maybe these women would have my back. Like I didn’t have to be on guard or brace myself for an incoming barb or an ugly look.

A fresh glass appeared in front of me, the liquid a pretty cranberry red. Cam smiled. “No pressure. But it pairs well with figuring out you’re not alone.” It was as if she could read my thoughts.

There was no pressure in her voice. No expectation. Just kindness wrapped in understanding. I hesitated for half a second, then took it. “Why not?” I said, wrapping my fingers around the glass. “It’s a new feeling, having friends.”

I took a small sip. It was sweet and slightly tart, a little reminder of how my life was currently shaping up despite the sometimes bitter reminder of how I might have had this all along if I’d made different choices.

Paige plopped onto the arm of the couch next to me and took a sip from her own glass. “Let’s talk about that bruschetta. Either you have magical abilities, or I’ve severely underestimated the power of tomatoes.”

I laughed. “I think it’s just the homemade bread and fresh tomatoes and herbs right out of the garden. Simple stuff.”

“Simple, my ass,” she said, pointing at the now empty plate. “Then again, me and kitchen utensils do not have a good relationship.”

“No wonder Chase looks like a man walking around in a daydream,” Megan chimed, reaching for the last lemon bar. “It’s amazing those guys get any work done out at the farm. They’re probably all too blissed out on food to care.” She giggled. “Not that I mean to use my name as a verb.”

“Or,” Em added with a sly grin, “maybe my cousin is in love.”

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as every eye swung to me.

“Oh, tell us all the details,” Paige squealed.

Bristol groaned and turned up her nose. “Ew, wait. That’s our brother. We don’t want all the details. Keep it PG.”

“You’re no fun,” Paige muttered.

“You can share the swoony parts. There has to be some knowing Chase. Like, who kissed each other first? Was it out in the fields? Talk about getting dirty ,” Teagan said with a smirk. “Pun intended.”

I laughed despite myself. “Sorry. Some things aren’t meant to be shared, but it may have involved the out of doors,” I hinted with a blush, to the hoot of the others. “But the first kiss….well, I don’t know who moved first because it was definitely the kind that makes you forget everything.”

“She got all dreamy-eyed, didn’t she?” Em said.

“She’s definitely glowing,” Cam agreed. “It’s either love or it’s the sangria.”

I snuck a glance at her. There was no derision there at all. Just a look of calm amusement.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad,” Megan cooed. “I love a good second-chance story.”

“I’ll definitely drink to that,” Em shouted.

A round of laughter followed, accompanied by the clinking of glasses.

We continued to chat, mostly about work, with a little town gossip mixed in. All of my stress lifted away, and laughter came easily.

The fun finally ended when Megan’s husband, Clay, walked in with Zach.

“It’s my sexy ride,” Em mumbled, wobbling slightly as she got to her feet. “I warned you about the sangria,” she said, laughing as Zach slipped an arm around his wife’s waist, steadying her like it was second nature. She leaned into him for a kiss, which he met halfway.

I watched them with a quiet smile. They were so easy with each other. So different from my parents or Mason. It was so much more like it was between Chase and me. Was it possible it could always be this way?

The doorbell rang. Reid stepped into the room, and to my surprise, he was followed closely by Chase, whose eyes immediately found me. His expression softened into a smile that made my heart flutter.

“Hey,” he said as he closed the distance between us.

I stood, surprised that the room spun just a little. “What—” hiccup —“What are you doing here? ”

“Heard you had a good time.”

I grinned. “I did.”

“I’m glad. You can tell me about it on the way home.”

I blinked at him. “How? Are you riding with me?”

“I’m driving you home, sweetheart.”

“But I drove here.”

He smiled patiently. “But you’re not driving home.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Bristol pulled me in for a hug.

“I called him,” she said quietly in my ear.

“I’m so glad you came and had fun tonight.

I know I don’t know or understand everything you’ve been through, but I just want you to know I’m so glad you’re back and with my brother.

He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.

” She pulled back slightly. “I’ll drive your car back to the farm, and Reid will follow and then bring me home. ”

A lump rose hot and fast in my throat. “Thank you,” I whispered.

I glanced at Chase, who gave me an easy smile.

“Ready?” He held out his hand, and I accepted it without hesitation. From now on, the past had no power. I was only looking forward.