Page 15 of Fixing to be Mine (Valentine Texas #5)

“Yep, unless you love washing dishes,” I say as I hop out of the driver’s side and come around to her door. “Can you run in those shoes?”

“Um,” she hesitates.

Before she can answer, I grip her by the waist and lift her off the seat.

“Colt!” she yelps, laughing as I haul her up and over my shoulder like a sack of flour in a sundress.

“I can’t afford you busting your ass,” I say, already sprinting for the porch.

“Seriously!” Her laughter spills into the warm night air, and damn if it doesn’t light me up from the inside.

I set Sunny down at the top of the porch, gently, both hands on her waist. Her hair’s a little messy from the sprint, and she’s laughing, cheeks flushed and glowing in the porch light.

We’re close. Too close. Her hands are still on my chest. Mine are still on her hips. She looks up at me, breathing a little fast, lips parted. And for a second, everything else fades out.

I could kiss her right now. I want to. God, I want to.

“Damn it,” Emmett yells in the distance. “You cheated! Unfair advantages! Long legs, dirty tactics, and apparently no shame!”

“I warned her about you,” I holler back at him.

“About little ole me?” Emmett acts offended, but he stops running, giving up. “You look up Southern gentleman in the dictionary, and you’ll see a picture of my beautiful face.”

Remi cracks open the door. “Y’all comin’ in or gonna keep flirting on the porch all night?”

“We’ll be right there,” I tell my sister, glancing down at Sunny, and I’m still holding her close.

Something dangerous flickers in her eyes, and I let my hands fall away and step back, clearing my throat.

“Let’s go, darlin’. Time to introduce you to the Valentine army.”

The house is buzzing with voices while laughter rolls from the dining room and the faint sound of a Willie Nelson song drifts in from the kitchen speakers. The air smells like comfort with the scent of butter and warm bread.

We stand inside the entryway, the bouquet still tight in her hand. Her eyes sweep over the space, taking in the old wood floors, the gallery wall of mismatched frames, and the way nothing here is curated. It’s lived in, full of love, and loud.

She doesn’t move, and her shoulders stay a little too high.

I reach for her hand. “You okay?”

She nods, but it’s small. Her gaze lingers on a crooked photo of all of us in the front yard when I was about thirteen, my arm in a sling and Emmett grinning like he caused it. I had fallen off a horse after it spooked.

“This is what going home is supposed to feel like,” she says.

“Yeah,” I admit, studying her.

She doesn’t say anything for a beat. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this.”

I glance at her, my eyes scanning over the dress, the earrings, and the pinkness blooming on her cheeks. I notice the weight she carries and how her edges go sharp when she’s trying not to show anything real.

“I’m so damn happy you’re here with me,” I say.

Her eyes meet mine, and something I can’t name shifts between us. It’s like a live wire is being pulled tight. She doesn’t look away. Neither do I.

The door behind us swings open, and Emmett glares at me, then lifts a brow at Sunny. “Don’t I get a proper introduction?”

I roll my eyes.

Sunny grins at him. “I’m immune to flirting.”

He bursts into laughter. “I like you.”

From the other room, a chair scrapes across the floor, followed by London yelling that dinner’s ready.

The moment breaks apart, and I lead her into the dining room.

We step inside, and the chatter stops. Focus is on us.

Beckett looks up from slicing the brisket.

“Everyone, this is Sunny,” I say.

I go around the table, pointing out everyone, and they smile, saying hello. Once introductions are done, Sunny hands the bouquet to Mama like she rehearsed it, smiling enough to be polite. Mama melts immediately, holding the flowers like they’re a promise.

“Thank you, honey. This was very sweet,” she says, giving her a hug, and I swear I feel Sunny exhale beside me.

My dad shakes her hand and introduces himself politely.

We take the last two open seats—side by side, of course—and the second we sit down, a dozen conversations fire off at once.

Kinsley is recounting a dramatic tarot reading she did earlier that day, then fills us in on some town gossip.

Emmett is already halfway into a story about being chased by a rooster this morning.

Fenix is arguing with London over the best George Strait album.

Vera is chatting with Harrison as Sterling passes around a bowl of mashed potatoes like it’s a sacred ritual.

Remi watches us, not saying much, along with Beckett.

Beckett eyes us over his fork. “When’s the wedding?”

“Don’t start,” I shoot back.

Summer leans in. “We’re glad you brought someone. You never have.”

“Y’all sure he didn’t hire her?” Emmett grins at Sunny. “I mean, she’s beautiful and smart. It’s suspicious she’s with you.”

Sunny doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m not for sale.”

Laughter rolls through the table, and my hand brushes hers beneath it. She doesn’t pull away, and I don’t move either.

The conversation shifts again. Vera talks about a flower order mix-up at the nursery, and London talks about her gig at the rodeo. With so many of us at dinner, there is never enough time to completely catch up.

“You’re coming, right?” London glances around the table.

“We’ll be there,” Sunny says. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Thank you,” my sister replies, beaming. “I expect you all to be there.”

“I’m tryin’ to figure out how you ended up with my brother,” Harrison says, and Grace elbows him hard in his side.

Sunny tilts her head and gives Harrison a look like she takes no shit. “Colt is charming. Caring. Funny. Why not?”

“See,” I say, smirking.

It’s all in good fun until Remi tilts her head, eyes narrowing.

“So … is this serious?” she asks, but I have a feeling my sister already knows the reality.

The table goes quiet, but Sunny doesn’t react to the attention. It slides off her shoulders like she’s been in the hot seat before. This woman is confident, unbothered, and I find that so sexy.

Sunny doesn’t flinch. “I don’t know what this is. I’m hesitant to give titles to anything.”

Mama lifts a brow like she’s impressed. “Smart woman.”

I shift in my seat and give Sunny’s hand a little squeeze under the table. She squeezes back once.

Once we’ve cleared our plates, Mama passes out pie and peach cobbler like we won the lottery. Sunny chats with Kinsley and Summer, and I can’t help but watch her as she laughs.

“Yeah, I heard Tessa was still trying to convince folks she was Colt’s soulmate today in town. You know, some girls peak in high school. She’s one of them. Never liked her,” Kinsley adds.

“How about we talk about something else?” I ask. “Unless you want me to start talkin’ about your exes.”

Hayden chuckles as Kinsley rolls her eyes.

After we eat dessert and chat about the weather this week, the table starts to clear in waves. Emmett tries to disappear before the dishes are picked up, which earns him a sharp elbow from Remi and a death glare from Mama.

As Sunny chats with Vera and Fenix, I pick up empty plates and carry them to the kitchen. Beckett catches me at the sink.

“You look calm for someone who’s in over his head,” he says, leaning one hip against the counter like he’s got all night to get to his point.

I shoot him a look.

He smirks. “You’re not as smooth as you think.”

I wipe my hands. “You done?”

“Not quite.” He nods toward the dining room. “She’s got anchor energy. The kind that roots people before they even realize it. How old is she?”

“Thirty-four,” I tell him. “Does it matter?”

“No. She seems like she has her shit together, unlike everyone else you’ve ever been with. Are you ready for commitment?”

I follow his gaze, catch a glimpse of Sunny as she smiles and easily holds a conversation without me needing to be by her side.

“She’s temporary, Beckett,” I say, though the words feel like gravel in my mouth.

“Sure. Make sure you remember that when she leaves because from where I’m standin’, it looks like she’s already got her hooks in and you’re not trying to stop that from happenin’.”

Before I can reply, he’s gone, like he didn’t walk up and punch me with a paragraph.

I glance back at Sunny, still seated, still looking like she belongs here in a way that makes my chest tighten.

I remind myself again that this is temporary. Even if I don’t want it to be.

Emmett moves into the kitchen, cursing under his breath. “Wanna help?”

“Did you help me last time?” I pat him on the back with a laugh. “That’s your answer.”

He groans, and I leave the kitchen. Sounds of plates clank together, along with running water. When I move back to Sunny, I can see overwhelm in her eyes. I lean in, brushing my hand lightly against her back.

“Come on,” I say under my breath. “You look like you could use some air.”

She glances at me like she’s surprised that I even noticed. Everyone else moves into the living room or the kitchen to help Emmett.

I guide Sunny out through the front door, holding it open as she steps onto the porch. The warm night air greets us, heavy with the scent of honeysuckle and the soft chirp of crickets. The house glows behind us, but out here, it’s quieter.

I motion toward the porch swing. “Sit with me for a minute.”

She does, tucking one leg beneath her. Her dress shifts with the movement as she settles in, and it looks like she’s still deciding whether she belongs here.

I sit close beside her and let the quiet settle between us.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice low in case any of my family members are eavesdropping.

She exhales and then nods. “Yes. Makes me realize how families are supposed to act.”

“Your family doesn’t get together?” I ask.

“They do, but no one wants to be there. I’d say it’s like we’re a bunch of strangers in a room, but after that friendly, welcoming experience, I’m not sure I can use that analogy again.” She looks over at me, and something like gratitude flickers in her eyes. “You noticed I needed a breather.”

“It was easy,” I tell her. “I’d been watching you all night.”

She huffs out a quiet laugh. “You’re intense with your truth bombs.”

“Maybe,” I say, leaning back against the swing. “But it’s not bullshit, which I’m sure you appreciate.”

She lets the words hang between us and leans in a little closer.

“I don’t remember the last time someone made sure I was okay.”

“You deserve better than that,” I tell her.

She turns toward me, and the way she glows in the warm porch light nearly knocks the breath out of me. Her hair is loose again, a little windblown. Her lipstick has worn off. She looks soft and a little raw.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

I stretch one arm along the back of the swing, not quite touching her. She leans into the space like she’s comfortable.

“I forgot what this felt like,” she says softly.

“What?” I ask.

“Belonging. Even if it’s for a night.”

“You didn’t just belong,” I say. “You fit.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I know I said too much, but I don’t take it back.

We stay like this, with our shoulders touching, for several long seconds.

She tilts her head, studying me. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Good.” I smile.

She brushes a piece of hair behind her ear, and the movement is small, but it unravels me.

I want to kiss her. I almost do. Instead, I lean away from her, against the armrest beside me, needing contact with something solid to keep myself grounded.

She glances away, her voice soft as she says, “We’re fucked, aren’t we?”

“Yep. We sure are,” I say with a smile, appreciating the confirmation that we’re on the same page.

Sunny softly laughs, scooting closer to me, not letting me escape her. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, and she leans her head against me, and that’s how we stay for a long while.

We’re two people caught between something neither of us can name.