What happens when your roots are in one place, but your heart is in another?
For Fionna Montgomery, she always knew she belonged in Kingsville, Tennessee. She had spent every summer since the day she was born on her grandfather's farm. Being anywher...
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23 years old
"Landon Ryder," I shouted, dropping a stack of dirty dishes beside the sink. "That playroom had better be cleaned by the time the potato salad is finished."
"Okay," he dragged out the word just like his uncle did. It's time to switch up the sitter schedule.
"Fi," a growl came from the other side of the screen door. The frame clattered against the house as my brother kicked at the door.
"Give me a minute," I answered. The suds from the dishes coated my hands and there was no way I was about to stop washing the damn pot because Garth decided to be an hour late.
The screen door opened and Garth huffed out a string of curses as he shuffled through. Stretched across the crook of his arms was a white box with a logo of the butcher shop in town. The glare he shot in my direction should have frozen me in place. The only problem was that he used that look a lot, and I had become impervious to it.
"You seriously couldn't spare two minutes," he barked. Pointing to the box, he continued to whine. "That's twenty pounds of freezing cold meat."
"I was a little busy, Gar. Can you please back off?"
"This show is for your towny boy toy."
"I mean it, Garth. Back. Off." I hissed, giving him a glare of my own.
"Both of you chill out," Viola piped up from the doorway. There was a knowing smile twisting onto her face.
"Auntie Vi," Landon squealed as he bolted down the hall, past Garth and straight into his aunt's open arms.
"How's my little man?" She hugged him as she stood. Sloppy, playful kisses were planted all over his face as he fidgeted in her grasp.
"Put me down," Landon shrieked, making all of us flinch.
"Not until you answer my question."
"I'm good. Excited to see my friends."
"And what friends would those be?" My own friend turned her wicked smirk to me. All the while my brother faked a gag before unpacking the box.
"Hunter and Jackson."
"Jackson's coming?" This time the question was directed to me as she set my son back on his feet. I gave a little shrug.
"I extended the invitation a little," I teased.
"Did you tell Grandad that you're inviting a bunch of locals to this otherwise private event?"
"Can whatever crawled up your ass be removed? Preferably before the guests start to show up?" I batted my lashes at him as I made the request.
He dropped one slab of ribs after the next on the table as he stared me down. It was on the tip of my tongue to call him Marshall. I wanted nothing more than to see the look vanish from his face as he realizes that he is behaving like one of my tormentors. If he didn't start acting like my brother, and I mean right now, I will do just that.
