Page 34 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

Mason

T he past two weeks have been blissful.

No matter how busy he may be running his company and checking on the farm, I see Miles every day and spend every night in his arms.

Neither of us has brought up New York or how many weeks I have left.

It’s six and a half, but who’s counting.

We’re living in the here and now, and it’s pretty great.

I’ve never laughed this much.

I’ve never orgasmed this much.

I’ve never felt so cherished.

Today is the first time I’ve felt a twinge of insecurity since I’ve decided to give us a chance.

The anticipation of meeting his grandparents for the first time, at Sunday dinner no less, has me a little jittery.

He asked me to come last Sunday, but I was in the zone and had to keep writing.

Book one in my new series is almost done, and I do believe I may actually have it to my editor well before my deadline.

They say there’s a first time for everything.

I’ve had dinner with his parents several times now, and I really like them. But meeting Pops and Granny feels like I’m about to take a final exam or something.

What happens if I fail this test? His family is everything to him.

“What’s going on in that wicked smart head of yours?” Miles asks from the driver’s seat.

“Honestly?”

“Nah, lie to me and tell me you were having a wild sex fantasy about me.”

I slap away his hand now playfully making its way up my thigh. “Stop it, you heathen.”

He takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. “I may be a heathen, but I’m your heathen.”

“Yes, you are. But will you still be mine if your grandparents don’t approve? I know how important they are to you.”

“Is that what’s had you in your head all day?”

I shrug.

“Babe, they’re going to love you! You have nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do. Everyone who meets you falls head over boots for you, there’s not a thing about you not to love.”

“Head over boots, huh?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Seriously, though. What if?”

“Mason, you really need to stop worrying. Mom and Dad love you. The Crew love you. Hell, Mel the barber loves you. You’re really worrying over nothing.”

“I sure hope you’re right. ”

“Besides, all they care about is whether I’m happy. And Mason…you make me very fucking happy.”

“Right back atcha, cowboy.”

“See, there’s nothing to worry about.”

By the time I hear the crunch of rocks under the truck's tires, his reassurances have settled me a bit, and I’ve found a sliver of my confidence as we begin our drive down a tree-lined gravel road.

Trees so tall they had to have been here for decades shelter us from the hot sun leaving fantastical shadows all around us.

Beyond the massive trees lining the small road are acres of endless green grass with more giant trees perfectly placed here and there, providing shadows of shade and adding to the beauty of the landscape.

And at the end of the road sits the most perfect house.

The house is grand but not massive. A white two-story country house with black shutters, a dream-worthy wraparound porch, and the dark blue of a lake as its backdrop.

Breathtaking.

Magical.

“Miles, it’s beautiful. Are you sure we haven’t just driven right into a Nicholas Sparks novel?”

“Isn’t that The Notebook guy?”

“Yes, and about a hundred other novels set in romantic places just like this. How was this not on the tour?”

“Well, I took you to meet my parents, and that was pretty ballsy for so early on, don’t ya think?”

“You could say that.” I laugh.

“I figured that was enough to start with. Didn’t want to scare you away.” He gives me an endearing grin in place of his usual megawatt smile. “Besides, this is a first for me, so I needed to be sure you were in.”

“A first?”

“City Mouse, the firsts with you are endless. I’ve never brought a girl to meet Pops and Granny because I always knew with them there was no need if I wasn’t bringing home the real deal.”

“The real deal, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to like Elsie Lake.”

“Elsie Lake? That must be the lake behind the house?”

“Well, that’s what Pops named the part of Eastlyn lake that the house sits on. Named it after Granny Elsie.”

“Aw, he named a lake after her. How sweet is that?”

“Well, she’s the love of his life, Mase. My grandparents have been together since they were teenagers, and they’re still as much in love with each other today as they were back then. Like I told you before, I’ve grown up with some pretty great examples of what people in love look like.”

“Wow, we really are entering the land of The Notebook , aren’t we?”

After he puts the truck in park, his chest rises with a deep breath. He inhales and his chest falls when he lets it out. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s nervous.

“It’ll be fine, remember?”

Shaking off the emotions he thought he was keeping hidden beneath the surface, he smiles and kisses the back of my hand again.

Today means a lot to him.

It means a lot to me.

Another page in our book is turning.

Holding hands, we take the steps up to the screen door together.

When we walk over the threshold, his Eastlyn Beer Company hat comes off his head and is placed on a coat rack next to the front door.

He runs his hands through his hair before kissing me on the cheek and pulling me down the hall behind him.

The hallway walls are covered in black and white family photos and a sweet floral wallpaper. Wallpaper isn’t my thing, but this works.

When we enter the kitchen, I’m knocked senseless by the delicious smells filling the air. The strongest scent is that of a freshly baked apple pie. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in a kitchen with an actual apple pie baking in the oven.

Heaven.

Miles's mom, Krista, is washing her hands over a white farmhouse sink, and a smaller woman with a short silver bob works over the most beautiful chef’s stove.

The house may be a century old, but the kitchen has clearly been updated.

All black and white tiles with stainless top-of-the-line appliances.

However, as it should be, the décor still has that country feel.

Amongst the high tech finery are roosters, cows, and adorable pigs perfectly placed.

The nerves come rushing back at the sight of the tiny woman, and Miles squeezes my hand back when my grip on his tightens. He wastes no time making our presence known in an oh, so Miles fashion.

“And how are two of the most beautiful women on the planet?”

“Oh, my sweet boy is here!” His grandmother’s eyes sparkle like her grandson’s often do, and with her hands in the air, she steps away from her burners. “Get over here and give your granny some sugar!”

He releases my hand and embraces his grandmother while Krista dries her hands with a towel before pulling me into a welcoming hug. She releases me but stands next to me, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed.

Is something wrong?

“So now, we’re two of the most beautiful women on the planet when we used to be the two most beautiful women on the planet.” Her elbow nudges my arm.

With his arm wrapped around the adorable matriarch of the family, they turn with matching sparkle shooting at us from across the room.

“Ah, Mom. You’re both still in my top three. But I mean, look at her. She’s pretty amazing, don't you agree?”

Before Krista can reply, Elsie exclaims, “Oh, Miles, I couldn’t agree more. You must be Mason. Here, stir this,” she says, handing Miles the large spoon in her hand.

He does as he’s told, and she crosses the beautiful dark wood floors with her arms wide open once again.

“It’s so nice to meet you, my dear.” She pulls me down to hug her, treating me like I’m already part of the family.

“I’ve heard so much about you from not only my grandson but from Mitch and Krista too, and I’m so happy to finally meet the girl who has my sweet boy’s heart wrapped around her little finger. ”

Whoa.

“It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Montgomery.”

“Call me Granny, and if you’re not ready for that, call me Elsie. But only for now.” She winks and directs me to one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Sit, and tell me all about yourself.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to just sit here while all of you cook.”

“Don’t worry, from here on out, we’ll keep you busy helping, but today, you tell me all about yourself.” She takes the spoon from Miles and places herself back at the stove. “You, go on and get. Your dad and Pops are out back. Go say hello and give us ladies some time to ourselves. Go on and get.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Miles breezes out of the kitchen but not without closing the blinds on the window above the kitchen sink, placing a kiss on my cheek, and leaving me with a whisper of, “ I love you ,” in my ear.

Thirty minutes later, my life story has been told .

My reward, childhood stories about Miles. Sweet stories, hilarious stories, and stories revealing what makes him the man he is and have me falling deeper in love with him than I was when we pulled up the gravel drive.

Behind me, the bang of a slamming door signals the men. Most importantly, Pops, who I haven’t met yet.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the famous writer.”

I’m off my stool in a flash and turning around to greet Miles, Mitch, and the man who began Montgomery Farms decades ago. It feels like I’m meeting the president or something.

“Mr. Montgomery, it’s nice to meet you.”

My extended hand is trembling, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t take it.

“Sorry, my dear. We’re huggers in this family,” he says, wrapping his big arms around me. He asks me to call him Pops or George. His father was Mr. Montgomery.

“Thank you, for having me, George. You have a beautiful home.”

“And you’re quite the beauty as well. I see what has my grandson so smitten. Brains and beauty are hard to come by. Isn’t he a lucky boy?”

I guess the Montgomery genes are pretty strong. It’s pretty clear where Miles gets it.