Page 50 of Forever To Me

She shrugs. “She’s been talking about you non-stop. ‘Oh, Violet is staying with me at the Dogwood. Violet is working with your dad at The Black Dog. Violet has great hair and would be a fantastic girlfriend if only stubborn Walker would wake up and see it.’”

I choke on air.

She grins, clearly pleased with herself.

“Wow,” I say, pressing a hand to my chest. “That was disturbingly accurate. You sure you don’t have a gift as well?”

“More like talent for mimicking small-town meddling.”

I grin, definitely liking her even more.

And something about Mack feels… easy. Natural. Like bantering with her is the most effortless thing in the world.

The door creaks open behind me, and I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Walker clears his throat, and Mack and I both turn toward him like we got caught red-handed.

His arms are crossed with his usual grumpy expression in place, but I don’t miss the flicker of surprise in his eyes as he watches us.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks, voice low, unreadable.

Mack smirks, absolutely eating this up. “Oh yeah, Dad. We were just bonding. I was getting to know my new mommy.”

Walker narrows his eyes at her as if he’s giving her a warning, then flicks his gaze curiously to me as if he’s gauging my response at her teasing.

I laugh at her comment and fight back a grin. “She insulted me within the first thirty seconds of meeting me, so… yeah. I’d say we’re off to a great start.”

Mack shrugs, popping another piece of candy in her mouth. “She can take it, Dad. I respect that.”

Walker exhales, rubbing the back of his neck like he doesn’t quite know what to do with this.

“Alright, kid,” Walker finally says, shaking his head at Mack. “You done interrogating our friend, Violet?”

Ourfriend. And the way he obnoxiously emphasized the word friend. There he goes with the friend shit again.

Mack shrugs, looking too pleased with herself. “For now.”

Walker mutters something under his breath before turning to me. “Whiskey’s on the bottom shelf.”

I salute him. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Mack cackles. “I like her, Dad.”

Walker mutters another curse before heading out.

I turn back to Mack, and we stare at each other for a moment—two smartasses in a standoff. Then we both crack up at the same time.

And just like that, I know.

I like this kid.

A lot.

Walker’s bar is quiet for once. Most of the customers here are the regulars, and the jukebox hums something old and slow in the background. I’m just about to steal the last fry from Mack’s plate when the front door flies open with the force of a full-blown tornado.

And that tornado has a name.

Aunt Maggie.

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