Page 151 of Butter My Biscuit

He clears his throat. “So, Grace and I are together,” he announces. “Surprise!”

Our mothers cross their arms and glance at each other.

Mom clears her throat, and her brow lifts. “Okay? We already knew that.”

“No, you didn’t,” I explain. I shake my head. “We just decided to be official this morning.”

They burst into laughter, and when his mama starts choking, my mouth falls open. I glance at Harrison, who shrugs. He predicted this would happen, but I was convinced they’d want to know as soon as we decided not to give a fuck what anyone in town thought. We’ll hold hands, we’ll kiss—hell, we’ll bang on the sidewalk if we want. I don’t want to hide him or us anymore, and neither does he.

“I guess I owe you twenty bucks,” I tell Harrison.

“And?” He tilts his head, waiting.

“You were right,” I mumble.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you?” he singsongs with a laugh.

I groan. “You were right!”

He taps my nose. “You’re adorable. You still don’t realize everyone already knows about us. Titles or not.”

“And I was sitting here, hoping you were gonna tell us that we’d be grandmas.” His mom takes a sip of sweet tea. Then, she narrows her eyes at him. “But since you two decided to call this very important meeting to tell us something every person in a hundred-mile radius knows, then I get to ask you two a few questions.” She leans forward with that signature Valentine smirk on her lips and meets Harrison’s eyes.

Suddenly, we’re in the hot seat, not able to predict what she’s going to say.

“When is therealweddin’?”

Our eyes lock, and just by the soft expression on his handsome face, I know he’s remembering the promise he made in Paris. He crossed his heart. He’ll keep it. Forever. I feel like I’m falling all over again as those butterflies flutter, and I bump my body against his.

His mom clears her throat to grab our attention.

Harrison interlocks his fingers with mine, on top of the table so everyone can see. “Sooner rather than later. That’s a promise.”

“I always knew you two would end up together,” Mom admits. “But Savannah’s wedding confirmed it for me.”

Harrison chuckles as he rubs his thumb across mine. “Ah, so youdidsee our downward spiral. Was wondering who caught a glimpse of that.”

“Honey, I think everyone saw that show in the sand,” she says with a chuckle, glancing down at our fingers.

Mrs. Valentine turns her head and looks at my mom. “What are ya talkin’ about? You didn’t tell me anything happened.”

“I know something you don’t know,” my mom teases, just like I knew she would.

“Sometimes, I wonder why I keep you as my best friend,” Mrs. Valentine says, but then she laughs.

“Because no one else would put up with you,” my mom confirms.

“True.” Then, his mom brings her attention back to us. “How have things been? Hopefully, not too hard.”

“Just fine,” I say. “There are whispers and rumors, but I’m just letting it slide off of my shoulders. No one knows what happened but us, and I’m okay with that.”

When we returned from Paris, it wasn’t all shits and giggles, like I’d hoped it would be. I feel awkward in public, like everyone is staring and waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask me questions, to get information, to uncover the truth. You’d think the townsfolk were solving a murder or something. I learned the hard way that running away from my problems didn’t work; the issues fester and build, waiting to spill over.

“They’ll move on to the next big drama soon, like always,” his mom says. “So, back to my original question.”

Harrison’s thumb runs across mine.

“We’re going to get married when we’re ready,” I explain with a smile. “We decided not to rush it.”

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