I truly felt alive.
And I wasn’t folding myself back into the corner ever again.
***
THE DAY STARTEDclear, bright in the kind of way that made everything feel a little more possible. Sunlight slid over chrome, over gravel, over the clubhouse in a warm gold wash. Chain tossed me the truck keys with a grin that said he was half impressed, half convinced he was making a terrible decision.
“Don’t kill us,” he teased.
“I make no promises.”
He chuckled, climbing into the passenger seat. “Fair enough.”
I adjusted the mirrors, fingers steady. Or steady enough. When I started the engine, it purred awake—no sputter, no stall—and pride bloomed sharp and unexpected in my chest.
Chain gave a slow nod. “Look at you,” he said. “All professional.”
“I told you—I’m a fast learner.”
“Never doubted it.”
His voice held that warm Southern rumble again, the one that wrapped itself under my skin too easily.
“Where to?” I asked.
“Thought we’d take a little drive,” he said. “Out to my folks’ place.”
I went still. “Your parents?”
“Yeah. Earl and Maria Riggs.” His grin widened. “Figured you’ve been dealin’ with me, might as well see what raised me.”
A knot twisted low in my stomach. “You sure they don’t mind?”
“Ma’s been wantin’ to meet you,” he said simply. “She’s got a radar for people I talk about.”
“You talk about me?”
He smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
It was already going.
The drive stretched easy—rolling fields, the wind drifting through the cracked window, Chain’s occasional touch on the wheel guiding me back when I drifted. Each soft correction came with a quiet, “Good job, darlin’,” that warmed me in a way that made me want pull the truck over and climb him.
By the time we turned onto a narrow gravel road, I felt more settled. More grounded.
The gravel crunched beneath the truck tires as we pulled into the drive, sunlight spilling across the farmhouse like it belonged there more than anywhere else. A wide porch wrapped around the front, wind chimes swaying lazily in the warm breeze. The whole place looked like a postcard of a life I’d never had—constant, rooted, safe.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I put the truck in park. Chain leaned back in his seat, arm draped casually across the backrest like he’d grown up exactly this relaxed.
“Home sweet home,” he said.
My stomach fluttered. Meeting his parents was one thing. But meeting anyone who shaped the man Chain had become? That felt… bigger.
Before we even stepped onto the porch, the screen door creaked open.
Maria Riggs stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron with a smile bright enough to light the whole yard. “Calder said he was bringin’ company and pretty one at that.”
Chain groaned under his breath. “Ma…”
