Page 14 of Sweet Surprise (Honeysuckle, Texas #2)

Carson squinted against the morning sun, watching the small moving truck rumble up the drive.

He’d hoped the truck would be here before the wedding, but the day after was better than not at all.

For the tenth time that morning, he wondered if he’d made a mistake.

The plan had seemed perfect when he’d first spotted the forwarded notice from the Dallas Courts system tucked in with the other mail.

He hadn’t opened it—he’d never invade Jess’s privacy like that—but the return address and official seal told him enough.

That, combined with her casual mention of month-to-month rent and the obvious financial strain she was under, hadn’t taken much to piece together she was being evicted.

A quick call to his friend Declan and within hours, his suspicions had been confirmed.

It had taken a bit more finagling to locate the name and phone number of the one neighbor Jess spoke of fondly.

In exchange for paying the back rent, the landlord had agreed to allow the neighbor to box up all the belongings in the tiny apartment.

The truck came to a stop in front of the house, and Carson took a deep breath before heading down the porch steps. A skinny man in his forties hopped out of the driver’s side, clipboard in hand. “Mr. Sweet?” The driver extended his hand. “I’m Dan. Got a delivery for you from Dallas.”

“Thanks.” Carson shook the man’s hand. And once again, he wondered if he should have said something last night while he tried hard not to toss and turn and ignore the beautiful woman sleeping a few feet away from him.

The screen door swung open, and Carson turned to see Mason bounding out, followed by a curious-looking Jess. The driver lifted the tailgate and Jess’s gaze settled on an old sofa. “That looks like mine.”

Carson nodded.

Jess’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as she stared at the contents of the truck. “How did you…? When did you…?”

“I saw the court notice in the mail,” he admitted. “I didn’t open it, but I had Declan confirm a hunch. Mrs. Kellerman agreed to help pack it all up. She insisted on making sure that the movers didn’t pack and take trash.”

Jess chuckled. “Yes, apparently when her sister moved to Dallas from New York, the movers took the trash bags out of the cans and packed it in boxes.”

He hesitated, studying her expression. “I hope you’re not mad.”

For a moment, Jess said nothing, her gaze moving from the truck to Carson and back again. “I honestly don’t know what I feel right now, but no, mad isn’t it.”

Mason, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, suddenly darted forward. “Is my dinosaur collection in there? And my books? And what about—”

“Easy, buddy.” Carson laughed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Let’s start unloading and see what we’ve got.”

To Carson’s immense relief, Jess stood on her tippy toes and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. “I had decided that what mattered most had come with me to the ranch. Mason, apparently, has other ideas. Thank you.”

Another man who had climbed out of the passenger seat held a small box. “Where do you want these?”

“For now, just set it all on the front porch. We’ll sort it out.”

“Look at this.” Jess stared down at the first box labeled kitchen drawers. “Mrs. Kellerman labeled the boxes.”

“I figure the stuff that will fit in the new house can be stored in the loft. Things you really don’t want can be trashed or donated, and things y’all will need now can be brought into the house.”

Jess nodded her agreement. “Okay. That,” she pointed to a recliner that had seen better days, “can be kindling.”

Laughing loudly, Carson nodded. “Works for me.”

She proceeded to read every box before directing the driver whether to put it on the porch or to the side.

“It’s here.” Garret came out, a hot mug in hand. His gaze looked over his brother from head to toe. “And you’re still alive so I guess you didn’t screw up.”

“He did not.” Jess smiled up at his brother. “It was very thoughtful of him.”

Garret grinned. “Yeah, that’s my thoughtful brother.” Setting his mug to one side, every time Jess said house, Garret lugged a box inside.

By the time the entire truck was emptied, all the siblings were moving items around like ants protecting the queen.

A pile of furniture sat on one side of the porch to be donated, on the other side of the porch she placed bed frames and dressers that still had plenty of use in them to be stored in the loft.

The trash items were tossed in the back of the ranch pick up to be hauled to the dump.

Mason found the box labeled toys and within minutes had his new grandmother lugging the box inside and stabbing at it with a knife.

Carson had to chuckle at the memory of the family at the breakfast table and Mason carefully broaching the subject of names.

He had logically concluded that if his mother and Carson were married, then that meant Alice was sort of a grandmother.

His mother had proudly announced she wasn’t sort of a grandmother, she was now his official grandmother.

All had agreed that soon they would tell him the truth of his Sweet bloodline, but for now, the changes happening so fast seemed to be a lot for the adults to take in, never mind a little boy.

Another few moments and they’d settled that her new name was Nonnie.

All in all, by the end of the morning the front porch looked like a warehouse.

“I found it!” Mason’s triumphant voice rang out from the other side of the room, where he and Nonnie were digging through the box of toys. He emerged holding a plush Tyrannosaurus rex, its fabric worn from years of love. “Rex is here!”

“I thought we’d lost him forever. I’ve actually tried finding another one online, but no glory.” Jess smiled at her son’s delight. “Guess I can cross that off my to-do list.” She glanced up at Carson. “Thank you again.”

“Thank you for not handing my head to me on a silver platter.”

She took hold of his hand, squeezed it, and softly said, “Never.”

If Carson could stand here for the rest of his life, in this spot, with his wife and son smiling so happily, he would never ask God for another thing. Too bad, if wishes were horses.

Jess couldn’t stop staring at the boxes now piled on the living room floor. Her entire life in Dallas, packed up and delivered to her doorstep without her having to lift a finger. She knelt beside a box labeled “Photo Albums” in a hasty scrawl, carefully peeling back the tape.

She still couldn’t believe Carson had done this.

In one gesture, he’d saved memories she’d resigned herself to losing, treasures from Mason’s childhood she thought were gone forever.

More than that, he’d done it without being asked, seeing a need and filling it.

“Oh my goodness,” she lifted a padded light blue photo album with a single baby photo on the cover from the box, “I haven’t seen this in ages. ”

Carson immediately abandoned his organizational efforts and crossed to sit beside her. “What is it?”

“Mason’s baby book.” She opened it gently as if her world would crumble if anything happened, revealing a photo of a red-faced newborn swaddled in a hospital blanket. “Look how tiny he was.”

Carson leaned in, his shoulder pressing against hers as he studied the photo. “He has the same serious expression he gets when he’s drawing.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Jess laughed, turning the page.

Another photo revealed a sour faced infant, face scrunched, clearly about to let out a scream to wake the dead.

“Mason had colic. I spent a lot of nights pacing the floor with him. Mrs. Kellerman was the one who told me to put his tummy on my shoulder and that it would help with the discomfort. I finally found an infant gas medicine that seemed to help. Even though it was hard pacing every day and night with him, I’d do it all over again if I had to. ”

Carson stared at the photo, let his finger barely rub over it. “Didn’t Todd help?”

“Pfft.” Practically spitting the sound, she shook her head. “No. Todd wasn’t into babies, and he had to work early. He needed his sleep.”

“So did you.” Carson kept his gaze on the photos.

He had no idea how much those three little words meant to her. For so long she had been solely responsible for everything—herself, her son, and Todd. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, not even herself, but she was tired. Bone weary, to the soul, tired.

For the next hour, they sat side by side, poring over albums and memory boxes.

Jess shared stories of Mason’s first steps, his obsession with dinosaurs that started at age three, his earliest drawings—stick figures that somehow already showed the promise of artistic talent to come.

Carson listened intently, asking questions, occasionally reaching out to touch a photo or a memento as if trying to connect with the years he’d missed.

Mason drifted in and out of their reminiscing, sometimes pausing to explain a particular toy or drawing before darting off to play with other re-found toys. Brady followed him dutifully, sniffing each new treasure with curious interest. Mason’s new best friend.

It had only been a few weeks since she’d driven into Honeysuckle with no plan beyond telling Carson the truth about Mason.

Now here she was, surrounded by the physical evidence of her old life, seamlessly integrating into her new one.

And at the center of it all was Carson, steady and reliable, offering support she hadn’t even known to ask for.

So this was what it felt like, she realized, to have someone truly have your back. To have a partner in all the ways that mattered, even if the foundation of their relationship was built on practicality rather than passion.

“Look what I found!” Mason’s excited voice broke through her reverie as he bounded back into the room, clutching a small wooden box. “My rock collection!” Apparently, he and Nonnie along with Uncle Garret had been sorting through the boxes from Mason’s old room, now piled in his new room.

He plopped down between them, carefully opening the box to reveal an assortment of stones in various shapes and colors. “This one glows in the dark,” he explained, holding up a pale green rock. “And this one has real gold in it. See the sparkles?”

“That’s amazing,” Carson said with genuine interest. “I used to collect rocks when I was your age too.”

“Really?” Mason’s eyes widened. “Do you still have them?”

“I think they might be in a box in the attic.” Carson glanced at Jess, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If I still have them, I bet Nonnie knows exactly where they are.”

“Cool!” Mason turned and practically vibrating with excitement, bolted back up the stairs, calling Nonnie on his way.

“I don’t know that I have ever seen him quite this happy, every single day.”

“I’m glad.” Carson’s gaze returned to the last pages of another album. Ones with Mason older, his first day of kindergarten, his last birthday, Christmas.

Carson flipped forward and back a few pages. “I don’t see any of Todd. Not very photogenic?”

“Not very present.” She didn’t want to think about all the years with a good man she’d robbed her son of. “I should have left him years ago.”

“Hey.” Carson reached under her chin with one finger and turned her head to face him. “You did the best you could under difficult circumstances. The proof that it was more than good enough is in how happy and well adjusted Mason is despite the man you thought was his father.”

His smile was warm, genuine, and for a moment, Jess allowed herself to forget that this was all temporary, that in less than a year they’d be going their separate ways.

For now, it was enough to be here, surrounded by the pieces of her past while building something new, however fleeting it might be.

Yes, Jess thought, watching Carson push to his feet and carry the box of memories upstairs to their room.

Even if none of this would be forever, even if their budding relationship was built on convenience rather than love, what they had right now was real enough.

And after everything they’d been through, maybe that was all that mattered.