Page 16 of Sweet Obsession (Honeysuckle, Texas #5)

The morning air in the Sweet kitchen was thick with the scent of strong coffee and a fragile, unspoken peace.

Blake sat at the long wooden table, nursing a mug, the warmth a welcome anchor in the sea of ‘what ifs’ that had kept him awake most of the night.

Across from him, Jillian was quietly stirring sugar into her tea, her movements small and deliberate.

Every so often, her gaze would lift and meet his, a furtive, charged look that said everything and nothing at all.

He’d come so close to losing her yesterday, just hours after realizing he’d finally found the one woman for him.

The thought was a cold knot in his gut that even Alice’s coffee couldn’t touch.

“Boy, these folks don’t waste any time,” Carson scrolled through his phone. “The fire, the rescue—it’s all over the mainstream news and social media.”

Blake’s stomach tightened. “How bad is it?”

“Actually, not bad at all. ‘Country Star Blake Kirby, his Beloved Grandmother, and Local Woman Risk Lives to Save Reporters in Fiery Crash.’ Y’all are being hailed as heroes.”

Preston leaned over to read Carson’s screen. “There’s video footage from someone’s phone. Shows you both collapsed by the fiery wreckage. Who the heck took that?”

“By the time the fire was out it could have been any of the firefighters or the line of passersby who had piled up to see what had caused the fireball in the sky.” At this point, he honestly didn’t care what the news said anymore.

He caught Jillian’s eye again, and this time neither of them looked away.

The memory of her refusing to leave that woman behind, of working together under impossible circumstances, of nearly losing each other to save two strangers—it had changed everything.

“Let me see that.” Alice reached for Carson’s phone. After a moment, she looked up with tears in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you both.”

The quiet moment was shattered by a loud whirring sound that seemed to be getting closer and louder.

“It can’t be what I think it is.” Kade stood up to look out the window.

The sound grew more annoying, and Brady began barking frantically.

“If you’re thinking helicopter,” Garrett stood next to his brother, “then not only are you right, it’s landing in our front yard.”

“Cool!” Rachel jumped up from the table. “Wonder if we can get a ride?”

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head at his wife. “Down, girl.”

The whole family crowded onto the front porch as the helicopter, a sleek black machine, descended with a deafening roar, its rotors kicking up a storm of dust and dry leaves. It settled onto the wide expanse of the front lawn with surprising grace.

“Figures,” Blake muttered, the knot in his stomach tightening for a whole new reason. He recognized the logo on the side. “My manager.”

“He has a lot of nerve showing up here,” Alice said, her voice tight with a protective fury that Blake found deeply touching. “None of this mess would have happened if he’d just respected your privacy in the first place.”

The rotors slowed and the side door slid open. Phil Mercer hopped out, ducking his head, a briefcase in one hand and what looked like a ridiculously expensive gift basket in the other. He approached the porch, his usual brisk confidence replaced by a look of strained contrition.

“Blake.” The man stopped at the bottom of the steps. “We need to talk.” He glanced around at the silent, formidable wall of Sweet siblings. “I, uh… I brought muffins.” He awkwardly held up the basket.

Blake crossed his arms, not moving. “You’re a little late for breakfast, Phil.”

“I know. I’m sorry. For all of it. The ‘missing’ story, the pressure… it was a bonehead move.” Phil’s gaze was surprisingly sincere. “I heard what happened yesterday. And about your grandmother. How is she?”

The unexpected question disarmed him slightly.

“She’s fine. She’ll have some tests next week, and then we’ll know more.

” He thought of his conversation with the memory doctor.

The physician had reassured Blake that even with a dementia diagnosis, it could be a very slow progression, and with the right care, by recognizing the problem early, they could help his grandmother maintain her quality of life for years to come.

Phil nodded, looking genuinely relieved. “Good. That’s good to hear.” He took a tentative step closer. “So… the other part of the story the press is running with. Is there really a girl?”

Every eye on the porch swiveled to Jillian. Blake didn’t hesitate. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and pulling her to his side. She looked up offering a lazy smile meant only for him.

“Most definitely, yes.” Blake couldn’t hold back his own grin. “There’s a girl.”

The feel of Blake’s hand, warm and sure, laced through hers sent a jolt of pure, uncomplicated happiness straight to Jillian’s heart.

She leaned into his side, the solid strength of him a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of the last few days.

She met his smile with one of her own, a silent, shared acknowledgment that this, whatever this was, was most definitely, very real.

Phil Mercer’s gaze moved from their joined hands to her face, a flicker of professional calculation in his eyes.

“Well,” his manager mode clicked back into place, “that certainly changes things.” He turned his full attention to her.

“I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but I need to talk some sense into this man. We have a situation.”

Jillian felt her own smile tighten. “I’m sure you do.”

“The European tour is sold out,” Phil pressed, his voice taking on an urgent, pleading tone.

“Months ago. We’re talking stadiums, Jillian.

The kind of venues that can set a musician—and his family—up for life.

He can’t just cancel. And no one,” Phil’s gaze flickered in Blake’s direction, “at least not in his right mind,” he turned back to her, “turns down a king.”

“The King?” Alice’s voice cut in, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Of England?”

“Of England,” Phil confirmed, then barreled on, his focus still on Jillian. “He’s a huge fan. It’s a massive charity event. The PR is priceless. You can’t let him back out of this. He’d be letting down millions of fans, not to mention the band, the crew…”

Jillian felt the weight of it all—the pressure, the fame, the world outside of Honeysuckle that Blake belonged to. A world she was now, inexplicably, a part of. But instead of feeling intimidated, a familiar Sweet stubbornness took root.

“Yeah, well, about that…” she began, an idea, crazy and brilliant, blooming in her mind. She looked from Phil’s frantic face to Blake’s, who was watching her with a look of amused curiosity. She then glanced at her siblings, their expressions a mix of support and intrigue.

Rachel, ever the quick one, caught on first, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You know, Phil, this time of year, Europe can be a great place for a honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” Phil’s face became a perfect mask of confusion.

The word hung in the air, electric. Jillian saw Kade and Garret exchange a look of dawning comprehension. Preston, ever the pragmatist, was already nodding slowly.

“That’s right.” Blake swung his arm around Jillian.

“After the accident yesterday, and with Grams’ health in question, we decided,” he squeezed her a little more tightly, “that life’s too short to wait.

” Now he straightened his spine and faced all the siblings, especially Jillian’s mother.

“So, we stopped at the court house on the way home and got a marriage license.”

Phil’s jaw dropped. He stared at Blake, then at Jillian, then back again, utterly speechless.

“We can’t use it for three days,” Jillian spoke up. “But after the required waiting period, the plan is to get married right away.”

Phil nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Well, I have to say, this changes things. The press is going to eat this up. Rock star marries small-town hero. It’s perfect.”

“It’s not for the press,” Blake drilled him with a fierce glare. “It’s for us.”

Still pressed beside Blake, she shifted slightly and leveled her gaze with his. Hopeful he’d caught on to her idea, she whispered, “What do you think?”

“A honeymoon in England?” he said so softly she was sure only she could hear.

Shrugging, she smiled at him. “It could make everyone happy.”

A brighter smile took over his face. “It could. Are you sure?”

She nodded. The plan, so wild and spontaneous, settled over the house with an air of perfect, undeniable logic.

It solved everything. Blake wouldn’t be letting anyone down, the ranch would get its trust payment, and their sudden marriage would have the most romantic, headline-worthy explanation imaginable.

Not to mention, they’d make a king happy too.

“Then it looks like we have some packing to do.” Blake looked down at her, his eyes shining with a mixture of awe, amusement, and a love so profound it took her breath away.

“Not so fast.” Alice held her hands up. “I have it on good authority that if there’s a wedding in this family there will be a party, and if there’s a party, there are two women ready to have white doves and ice sculptures.”

The whole room—except Phil who had no idea what she was talking about—burst out in deep rolling laughter.

“Fair enough.” Blake nodded at his future mother-in-law then looked down at his fiancée, pulled her into his embrace, his mouth only inches from her, he again spoke so softly only she could hear. “As long as you’re mine for the rest of our lives, this crazy town can do whatever they want.”

“Ditto, Mr. Kirby. Ditto.”