Shylo offered a polite nod and followed Seth’s subtle gesture toward a seat near one end. She slid into the chair as smoothly as she could, keenly aware of the way the room naturally filled with Shane’s family—each claiming a spot with casual familiarity.
Seth sat beside her, his thigh brushing hers for a moment beneath the table, and her pulse jumped. Shane settled at the head of the table on her other side after placing Ashley on a booster seat opposite Seth. With springy curls and flushed cheeks, the toddler chatted softly to no one in particular as she played with the rubber-tipped spoon and plastic bowl in front of her. Paige took a seat across from Shylo, with Arianna sitting beside Seth. At the other end of the table, Tucker sat with a quiet presence that still dominated the room.
Shylo focused on filling her plate with brisket, cornbread, and sides as dishes were passed. She took her time, letting herself blend into the conversation rather than being at the center of it.
Seth leaned closer. “You’re in for a treat. Mya’s brisket has been known to make grown men cry.”
She gave a faint smile. “No pressure, huh?”
He smirked and turned back to his plate. Around them, the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of voices filled the space, warm and lived-in. Another flash of jealousy rose within her—unwelcome this time. She forced it back down. It wasn’t Shane’s fault she hadn’t grown up with a family like his—the more time she spent in his presence, the more she realized that. The blame belonged to the father they shared. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t demand what she came for.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she took a bite of the brisket and closed her eyes briefly at the flavor—tender, smoky, and with the perfect amount of heat and spice.
“This is amazing,” she said, glancing at the Wilsons’ housekeeper.
Sitting beside Tucker and Ashley, Mya gave her a broad, grateful smile. “Thank you. It’s my special dry rub and a lot of patience.”
A pang of loss hit her as she remembered her mother’s cooking. They’d often relied on no-name brands, whatever was on sale, “manager’s specials,” or boxed meals from the dollar store—but with spices and a little imagination, Heidi Kellerman could make it fit for a king.
“So, Shylo,” Shane said as he reached for the salt shaker, “how are you liking Hazard Falls so far?”
She hesitated a second, choosing her words with care. “Still settling in. But it’s been good.”
Paige kept one eye on the mess Ashley was making with her mac and cheese. “Do you enjoy working at Lou’s?”
“I do. She’s really nice. And the people are... interesting.”
Shane barked out a laugh. “I think that’s putting it mildly. We’re an eclectic mix here in Hazard, which means everyone fits in—although some more than others. I take it you haven’t met Bridget Kline yet?”
A few groans rippled around the table as Shylo shook her head. “No, I haven’t. But Seth mentioned her the other night. She’s the mayor’s daughter, right?”
“Yup, and the town...” Paige paused, glanced at her kids who were busy with their meals, then mouthed the word bitch to Shylo before continuing, “Otherwise known as the one who is not to be trusted. She’s got opinions about everything, and she’ll share them whether or not you ask her to. Fashion, politics, your relationship status—nothing is off limits. It’s like she thinks she’s Hazard’s royalty, just because her dad got elected twenty years ago, and no one else wants the job to challenge him.”
“And she still lives at home,” Seth muttered. “With a yappy dog, a designer wardrobe that probably cost more than my pickup, and a standing weekly spray tan appointment.”
“She’s not all bad.” Shane paused and then shook his head. “Actually, no. I take that back.”
The adults all chuckled, which made Ashley giggle.
The table buzzed with comfortable conversation—plans for the upcoming festival, Arianna’s last few days of the school year, and a lighthearted debate over whose turn it was to choose what to play for Friday’s family game night. Shylo mostly listened. When she spoke, it was with care. She didn’t want to seem closed off, but she also wasn’t ready to expose who she really was.
Tucker barely said a word during dinner. But she felt his gaze on her now and then. It wasn’t overtly unfriendly—but it wasn’t warm either. If he had questions, he kept them to himself. That somehow made it worse.
Shylo’s gaze drifted to the sideboard, which held a handful of framed photographs nestled between knickknacks and what looked like a kid-made clay sculpture. One photo drew her in—an older couple standing in a pasture, arms around each other, smiling. Peter Wilson and his wife.
“That’s a great picture.” She gestured toward it.
Shane followed her gaze. “Those are my parents. They’re both gone now. This was their place before it became mine—ours,” he added, nodding toward Paige and Tucker.
The tone around the table shifted—not heavy, but softer. Quieter. Shylo caught something flickering in Seth’s expression, though he didn’t speak. No one said much for a few heartbeats.
“They’d be proud of what you’ve built here,” Paige said, her voice gentler than before.
Shylo looked down at her plate, unsure if she was intruding on something private. It was strange—being part of the moment but not truly belonging to it.
Conversation slowly picked back up. The toddler grew restless, babbling about Elliot, and Paige took her upstairs to give her a bath. Arianna excused herself to watch TV, and Mya began to pack leftovers into containers. Shylo and Seth offered to clean off the table while Shane and Tucker tackled the dishes, pots, and pans in the sink.
Shylo reached for the last two empty glasses on the table and caught Seth watching her as he straightened the chairs. Not with the quiet scrutiny Tucker had shown earlier—his gaze was lighter, more like curiosity—and maybe hope.
