“Wren!” Nora called out, rising from the couch to greet her. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Grayson and I swung by the kitchen first to say hello to his parents. Mrs. Storm wanted me to let everyone know dinner is ready.”
Nora grinned. “I’m going to warn you right now, that ‘Mrs. Storm’ thing won’t fly with Aunt Claire. She’ll insist you call her by her first name.”
Wren nodded, even though that was going to feel strange after so many years of calling her Mrs. Storm.
“Soup’s on!” Nora called out to the room, the two words having the same effect as a starter pistol at the beginning of a race. Everyone rose practically as one, gunning for position.
Wren stepped out of the path of the crush, laughing at the way Grayson’s brothers jostled each other, fighting to get there first.
She followed behind the last of them, stepping into the large dining room. She gasped when she saw the enormous table. Given the size of the family, she’d honestly expected several tables would be necessary to accommodate them all.
Grayson waved her over, pointing to a chair next to the one he was standing behind. “Saved you a spot, little bird.”
Several heads popped up at the term of endearment, and she swallowed hard when his mother took in the two of them as if she was already planning their wedding.
She really shouldn’t have come here before talking to Grayson. But cowardice had ruled the day.
Wren forced a smile when he held the chair out for her, pushing it in before seating himself. He leaned toward her, their shoulders bumping familiarly. There was no denying just how happy he was to have her here.
That truth felt amazing…and horrible.
She’d been nervous the entire day as the time crept closer for Grayson to pick her up, but she could see now, all that anxiety had been wasted. The Storms were fun and funny, and she didn’t feel at all like she was under a microscope, her every word and action being observed and analyzed, as she’d feared.
Well, except for with Grayson, but she was getting used to his constant gaze. In fact, she craved it; no one had ever looked at her like he did. Like she was chocolate and red wine and Christmas all rolled into one.
And because he was always watching, he saw the exact moment she took her first bite of Mrs. Storm’s chicken. Flavor exploded in her mouth, and her reaction was instinctual as she closed her eyes and moaned in bliss.
Grayson leaned closer, whispering in her ear, “Told you so.”
“I’ve literally never eaten anything that good in my life.”
While she’d spoken softly, and directly to Grayson, his dad—who was sitting next to him—overheard.
“You’ve got yourself another fan, Claire.”
“Seriously, Mrs. Storm,” Wren said, forgetting Nora’s warning. “This is delicious.”
“Call me Claire, sweetheart. And I’m glad you like it. When Grayson said you were coming, I wanted to make something special. This casserole has been his favorite since he was in elementary school.”
“It was my birthday dinner request every single year,” Grayson added.
Wren laughed. “My birthday dinner request was always McDonald’s,” she joked. “I’m afraid I get my cooking skills—or lack thereof—from my mom, who prefers to spend the majority of her time in the backyard feeding the birds.”
“Well, you’ll have to tell me when your birthday is and I’ll make this for you so you don’t have to suffer through another Big Mac,” Claire said, feigning a shudder.
“Where are Edith and Manny?” Remi asked, after glancing around the table. Wren recalled Grayson saying her lovely landlady and nephew were regulars at Sunday dinner.
“Edith has a bit of a head cold, and she refused to come here and ‘contaminate’ the rest of us,” Claire replied, finger-quoting the word.
“Manny stopped by earlier for a quart of my chicken noodle soup,” Mila added. “I swear he fusses over Edith as much as she does him.”
Wren grinned, agreeing that Edith Millholland and Manny had one of the most wonderful relationships she’d ever seen.
The dinner conversation remained entertaining, with Sam and Levi continuing to fight good-naturedly about the arm-wrestling competition. Sam was demanding a rematch after dinner, when he would have the time needed to properly trounce his brother. Just as Mila said, he complained that he’d been distracted by the smell of the casserole.
From there, talk turned to business concerns. Stormy Weather Farm was host to quite a few businesses, including the winery, the brewery, the B&B, the rental cabins, and the event barn. Wren was exhausted just thinking about it all, but as they spoke, it became clear that despite each family member having their own roles, everyone supported everyone else. It was lovely, and Wren was starting to understand just why Lark loved working here so much.
