Page 43 of The Tex Hex (Bitches With Stitches #3)

TEX

We’ve barely talked since we crossed the state line. I think we’re both nervous. Just… in different ways.

I clear my throat. “We’re thirty minutes out.”

He nods once. “You okay?”

“No.” I smile faintly. “But also, yeah.”

Mandy doesn’t say anything. Just reaches over and grabs my hand, pressing a kiss on the back of mine. That one quiet gesture settles something in me. Like always.

We pull into the driveway of my parents’ house just after five. I can smell the grill already. My stomach knots.

The place hasn’t changed. Brick facade, basketball hoop still crooked above the garage, a chain-link fence clinging to rust. It’s the same place I ran from when I enlisted, thinking distance would fix something broken in me.

My mom steps onto the porch first. She wipes her hands on a dishtowel and blinks like she doesn’t quite believe I’m real.

I walk toward her, heart pounding like I’m eighteen again, waiting for judgment.

But her arms are open before I can doubt her, and then she’s hugging me tight, whispering, “My baby,” like no time’s passed at all.

I step into her hug and fold my arms around her.

Her hands are smaller than I remember, and she holds on like she’s afraid I’ll vanish again.

I bury my face in her shoulder and breathe her in—fabric softener, lemon, and home.

When she finally pulls back, she swipes under her eyes and looks past me to Mandy. “And you must be?—”

“Mandy,” he says, offering his hand. She pulls him into a hug, too. “You’re taller than I imagined. I like that.”

She should, she raised two hulking sons just like him.

Behind her, the screen door slams, and my brothers barrel out like linebackers.

Will and Caleb. Both taller and broader than I remember.

Both built like trucks, tattooed and sunburnt from their construction jobs.

Mandy straightens behind me, and I feel the tension roll off him like heat.

I squeeze his wrist before they reach us.

“Y’all be nice,” I warn.

They’re not. Not at first.

We go through the motions—back slaps and half-smiles, manly grunts of acknowledgment. Caleb barely looks at Mandy. Will sizes him up like he’s trying to do long division with his face.

“Big guy,” Will mutters. “Where’d you find him?”

“In North Carolina,” I say flatly. “And he’s not a stray. He’s my partner.”

Mandy extends a hand. “Mandy Cahill.”

Will takes it like he’s testing grip strength. Mandy doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t squeeze back too hard either. Just holds steady until Will lets go.

Caleb slaps Mandy on the back like he’s checking for structural damage. “Damn, you’re a big son of a bitch.”

“I get that a lot,” Mandy says dryly.

“Name like Mandy? Thought that was a girl’s name.”

Mandy’s face doesn’t give anything away. “Short for Armando. Or you can call me Big Guy like your brother does.”

They eye each other for a long second. And then, somehow, they both grin like idiots. Caleb claps him on the back so hard I wince. “You eat steak?”

“I eat a lot of things,” Mandy deadpans.

I groan. “Jesus Christ.”

Inside, the house smells like home cooking and lemon cleaner.

Mandy’s eyes flick across the worn furniture and dusty picture frames, taking it all in.

I watch his shoulders ease when he spots the family photos on the mantle.

Me at ten with a buzz cut. My brothers in football uniforms. Mom holding all three of us like a warrior queen.

Later, we gather around the grill, Will flipping burgers with his usual precision like he’s hosting a cooking show.

Caleb’s nursing a beer and talking about a roof job gone sideways, complete with gestures and half-finished sentences.

Mandy listens, nodding along, one foot hooked around mine under the patio table.

It’s subtle. No one else would notice, but I feel it. The little tether.

Eventually, Will flips the last burger and hands it to Mandy. “Here.”

Mandy takes it. “Thanks.” But like he always does, Mandy fixes the burger to my liking and passes me the plate. He always serves me first, like I’m a king. It’s a small thing, but I think it’d break my heart if he ever stopped.

Will crosses his arms, watching Mandy with scrutiny. “You make him happy?”

Mandy doesn’t hesitate. “Hope so.”

Will nods once. “Good. That’s all I care about.”

Caleb walks by and claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t screw it up.”

Asshole. “I’m trying not to,” I say.

“You won’t,” Will adds. “You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re solid.”

It’s not poetry. But it’s what passes for brotherly love in this family. It’s more than I expected them to say in my defense.

My brothers are giving Mandy grief, but it’s lighter now. Will looks him dead in the eyes and says, “You hurt him, I’ll break your legs.”

Mandy nods. “You can try.”

Caleb hoots. “Shit, I like him already.”

Will narrows his eyes. “You military?”

“Army,” Mandy replies. “Demolitions.”

Will glances at me. “You brought home a bomb guy?”

“He brought himself,” I say, crossing my arms.

Caleb leans in, like he’s sharing a conspiracy. “Is it true y’all wear silk boxers under your fatigues?”

Mandy’s face betrays nothing. “Only if they match the combat boots.”

Will snorts. “God help us, there’s two of them now.”

Something in Will’s face softens. He gives me a once-over, then nods. “Took guts to bring him here.”

“It took more to get here in the first place,” I admit.

They ask about his military record. His scars. The knitting, which Caleb doesn’t understand, but Will looks slightly interested. He answers everything calmly. At one point, he makes them both shut up in a card game. That’s when I know he’s won them over.

My dad stays quiet through most of dinner. He doesn’t say much, but I catch him watching me. Watching us. When Mandy wraps an arm around me without thinking, my dad’s eyes narrow, but then he nods once. Just once. Not a smile. Not words. But for him, it’s enough.

I find Mom in the kitchen later, elbow-deep in dishwater. I grab a towel and help dry.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. Then, quieter, “It’s easier with him. Life. Me."

She smiles. “You look good. Happier.”

“I am.”

She hands me a plate. “Then I’m glad.”

When I return to the backyard, the sun’s gone down and the stars are starting to come out. Mandy’s sitting on the porch steps. I slide in behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. He leans back into me, warm and solid.

“Your brothers are terrifying,” he murmurs, which kills me, because he’s bigger than both of them.

“You held your own.”

“You owe me so much later.”

I grin. “Name it.”

He turns, and I kiss him, a long, deep kiss that makes heat seep into my bloodstream, making me feel warm everywhere. My fingers thread through his hair. He groans into my mouth, and I feel it down to my toes.

The porch light flicks on, and Mandy laughs, pulling away from me. “Better save it for the motel.”

“Deal.” Yeah, we got a motel, because I’m not forgoing fucking my man, not even for the sake of my family. We’re here for four whole days! That’s a long-ass time to abstain when your man is as hot as mine.

We move to the swing, and Mandy sips sweet tea made fresh by my mom. He looks like he belongs here, even if I know he still feels out of place. Caleb shows him how to catch fireflies with a mason jar. Wills got his feet up, beer balanced on his belly.

Mom leans out the screen door. “Boys, help dish up dessert.”

Caleb groans. “She means you, Dallas.”

The name grates my nerves coming from anyone but Mandy, but I grin and bear it, because no matter how many times I correct him, he ignores me.

I haul myself up, kiss Mandy’s cheek, and follow her inside.

As I pass Dad in the living room, he looks up from his recliner and gives me a small smile. Like maybe he’s glad I’m here? Maybe.

Mom and me slice the peach cobbler and head back outside with it and a plate of cookies.

The conversation shifts from teasing to real stories.

We swap memories, most of them dumb. That time I stole my dad’s truck to go to a party, Will nearly blowing his thumb off with fireworks, Caleb falling through the shed roof because he “wanted to see the view.”

Mandy asks questions, listens closely, laughs when he should, and he doesn’t try too hard. He just… fits.

Will nudges me while Caleb and Mandy argue about who can bench press more weight. “You love him?”

“Yeah.”

He nods. “Good. He’s calm. You always needed that.”

Maybe he sees deeper into me than I gave him credit for. That makes me feel… I don’t know, bigger, somehow. Valued. Definitely grateful I came home.

He’s not one for big speeches. Never has been. But that small comment—it lands like a blow and a balm all at once. Because he’s right. I did need calm. I needed Mandy. And I didn’t know how badly until I had him.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

Will doesn’t say anything more. Just picks up his bottle and tips it toward me in a silent toast before taking a long pull. That’s about as affectionate as he gets, and I take it for what it is, a peace offering. Maybe even approval.

Caleb yells from the yard, “Hey, Dallas, your man just told me he could bench press me and my ego.”

Mandy grins. “I said I’d try. You wanna be the barbell?”

I laugh. Loud and unashamed. And Will chuckles under his breath, shaking his head like he can’t believe how far I’ve come.

Neither can I.

When we head out to the driveway and say our goodbyes, my brothers fall over themselves in a fit of hilarity watching Mandy open the passenger door for me. Not because he’s being a gentleman, but because the car’s roof hits below his shoulder.

“Hey, y’all gonna drive that clown car back to the motel?”

Mandy, ever unbothered, raises an eyebrow. “The Mini Cooper? Yeah.”

Will snorts. “How the hell do you fit in that thing? Do you fold yourself in half or does Dallas keep an Allen wrench in the glove box and just disassemble you at the knees?”

Caleb adds, “I swear to God, I saw less struggle getting a fridge through a dog door than what I saw when you got out of that car.”

Mandy says, “It’s all about core strength and dignity. I sacrificed the second one.”

He did. For me. Dreamy sigh and fluttering heart.

My brothers howl with laughter. Even my mom chuckles from the porch where she’s wiping her hands on a dish towel and waving.

Mandy shrugs with a small smile, letting their teasing roll off him like it’s nothing. Like he’s always belonged here. Like he isn’t used to people looking at him with suspicion or pity or derision.

Watching him stand his ground and hold their gaze without flinching gets me right in the chest.

Will says, “We were tryin’ to figure out what it was about him. He’s quiet but, like… rooted.”

Caleb nods. “Yeah. Got that solid energy. You—” he jabs a finger toward me, “you’ve always been like a spark plug about to blow. But him? He’s like an anchor. That’s good for you.”

Mandy flashes me a glance, and I can tell he’s feeling it. Not just the acceptance, but the relief.

Caleb claps him on the back so hard he stumbles half a step. “Alright, big guy. Go fold yourself back into that damn toaster. And take care of our little brother, yeah?”

Mandy gives a mock salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

We climb into the Mini, and I don’t even care how cramped it is.

I’m grinning too hard. As we pull away, I glance in the rearview.

My brothers are still standing there on the curb, waving.

For the first time in years, it doesn’t feel like I’m leaving something behind. It feels like I brought something home.

Later that night, when we crawl into bed in our motel room, Mandy wraps his arms around me, forehead pressed to mine.

“You okay?” he whispers.

I nod. “They like you.”

“Will threatened to break my legs.”

“You should’ve heard what he said about my last boyfriend.”

Mandy kisses me. “I’m glad I came.”

I tug him closer. “Me too.”

He brushes his thumb over my cheek. “You held your own today. I was proud of you.”

“I was proud of you,” I say back.

His eyes soften. “You were scared.”

“Terrified.”

“And you did it anyway.”

I take a shaky breath. “That’s what love is, right?”

He smiles. “Yeah. It’s exactly that.”