I laugh softly. “That’s a very polite way of saying chaotic.”
His eyes sweep the yard again—Shelby tossing a horseshoe while Waylon heckles her from the sidelines, Charli arguing with Cabe about something, Matty talking animatedly with Caison near the coolers.
“Actually,” Porter says, voice low, “I think nice applies.”
Something warm stirs in my chest at that.
“Well,” I say, grabbing his wrist, “come on, boss man. Might as well jump in headfirst.”
He raises a brow.
“First stop, Grandma.”
We weave through the yard, dodging cousins and neighbors. Porter moves easily beside me, nodding politely to people who greet me along the way.
Grandma Evelyn is seated at one of the long tables, like the queen of her kingdom, a glass of sweet tea in her hand and Imma Jean perched beside her.
Grandma spots me immediately. “There’s my girl!” she calls.
Her sharp blue eyes immediately flick to Porter.
I swing my arm in his direction. “Grandma, this is Porter Garrison. My boss.”
Porter dips his head politely. “Ma’am.”
Grandma studies him for a second before her mouth curves into a knowing smile.
“Well now,” she says, “aren’t you a tall drink of water?”
I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.
“Grandma,” I mutter through my fingers.
Imma Jean chuckles beside her, warm, wide eyes twinkling as she looks Porter up and down.
“Oh, Evelyn, don’t embarrass the poor boy.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Porter says calmly. “It’s nice to meet you ladies.”
Grandma gestures toward him with her glass. “I like you.”
I sigh. “This is my grandmother, Evelyn Storm,” I tell him. “And this is Imma Jean. She owns the Ryse & Shine Café in town.”
“I do. And you need to come in sometime and try a pastry,” Imma Jean adds.
Porter nods respectfully. “I’ll do that.”
Imma Jean beams at him.
Grandma leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. “So,” she says casually, “you’re Harleigh’s boss.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you for bringing her home tonight.”
Porter glances at me briefly before answering, “Yes, ma’am.”
I grab Porter’s sleeve. “Okay. Next.”
