Chapter 20
Funny how life has a way of rearranging itself when you least expect it, turning what once felt impossible into something inevitable.
The past couple of weeks have been a blur of epic chaos.
Linc and I have slipped into this thing so naturally it feels like it’s always been waiting for us.
Midnight calls stretched until dawn, texts crammed between weddings, him showing up at my door with half-blown dandelions just because he missed me.
He even smuggled me into the firehouse one night, feeding me spaghetti with the crew like I belonged there.
Every moment has been better than I dared hope, and nothing like what I feared. I haven’t regretted a single second…until now.
Now I’m in his truck, knee bouncing, palms slick, seconds from a full-blown panic attack. All because I’m about to have Sunday dinner at the Masters’ house.
His mom, dad, and brothers will all be there—people who think they know me, but only ever knew the version I let them see back then: the confident girl with a sharp tongue and bolder-than-she-felt attitude.
In reality, she was just a lonely girl pretending the golden boy next-door didn’t make her heart race every time he so much as looked her way.
Linc isn’t blind to my inner meltdown. His hand slides across the console, warm and steady on my knee.
“Relax, Goldilocks,” he murmurs, voice low and calming “You’re stressing over nothing. They’re going to love you.”
I snort, clinging to sarcasm like a lifeline. “Right. Because what’s not to love about the girl who sabotaged your science project and popped the tires on your bike?”
Just the memory makes my stomach lurch, but not Linc. He only chuckles, completely unfazed.
“I’m serious,” I press. “What if your mom thinks this is some elaborate plot to seduce you, break your heart, and ride off into the sunset laughing?”
That earns me a full bark of laughter. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? Sexy as hell…” His grin widens. “But ridiculous.”
I shoot him a look, not the least bit impressed.
At least one of us is entertained.
“Look, no one’s holding grudges over childhood antics,” he says, more serious now. “If they were, I wouldn’t bring you. I’d never put you in a situation where you’d be treated badly. You know that, right?”
A pang of guilt stirs in my chest. “I know. I’m sorry. I just hate that all they know about me is the girl who plotted your demise.”
“That’s not all they know…”
The way he lets that sentence trail off does not sound good at all.
“Great. What else do they know?”
His gaze flicks from the road to mine, anchoring me in place. “That you’re the first girl I’ve ever cared enough about to bring to Sunday dinner.”
Warmth unfurls in my chest, claiming parts I’m not quite ready to name.
“First girl, huh?” I ask, unable to hide the soft hope in my voice.
He nods. “And that’s all that matters to them. Nothing else. Okay?”
I smile, my heart settling. “Okay. No more freak-outs. I promise.”
“Good.” His fingers tighten on mine, eyes back on the road. “But for the record…you can seduce me all you want and ride off into the sunset laughing, as long as I get shotgun.”
A laugh bursts from me, trailing into a groan. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
His smirk answers for him. “Not a chance.”
Leave it to him to turn my nerves into laughter, even when I want to throttle him.
I drop my head back against the seat, turning to the window, letting the hum of the road settle more of my nerves.
Until we make the final turn and my stomach twists again.
It’s not his parents’ house that does it though. It’s the one just after it.
The familiar two-story I’ve avoided since I moved back.
My childhood home.
Two little girls dart across the lawn, shrieking with laughter. Suddenly, I’m ten years old again, barefoot in the grass, chasing butterflies and catching dandelion fluff with my sister beside me. Before life got complicated between us. Before she traded me for our parents’ approval.
The memory cuts through me like a jagged edge—bittersweet and impossible to bury.
“You okay?” Linc’s gentle voice pulls me back.
I blink, realizing we’ve parked, and that he’s been watching me stare at the house.
Forcing a smile, I lie. “Yep. All good.”
He doesn’t buy it. “Have you heard from any of them since we left?”
I shake my head. “My parents called a few times, but I didn’t answer. I’m not interested in what they have to say right now.”
Not sure I ever will be. Nothing they say can change the fact that they stood by and watched their daughter marry a man who doesn’t deserve her.
And yet, even through the anger, I can’t help worrying about my sister and what she might be facing behind closed doors. She doesn’t deserve my concern, not after choosing him. But the look in her eyes that day—the hesitation, like she almost considered following me—refuses to let go.
Thankfully, Linc doesn’t press any further. Instead, he lifts my hand, brushing his lips across my knuckles, the gesture saying more than words ever could.
“Come on, Goldilocks. Let’s do this.” He releases me, but the kiss still clings to my skin as he slips out to open my door.
I cradle the flower arrangement Ellie made and take his offered hand, letting him steady me as I step down. His grip is firm, and grounding—the kind of quiet confidence I cling to as we walk toward the house together.
The moment we enter, the unmistakable sound of roughhousing and laughter fills the air, rattling the walls—the kind of noise only a pack of grown men can make.
“Not in the kitchen!” Mrs. Masters’ voice cuts through the chaos, firm but affectionate. “You’re going to break something.”
A chorus of sheepish voices echo back. “Sorry, Ma!”
My grip tightens on Linc’s hand as I toe off my sandals and follow him into the kitchen.
Nate is the first to notice us. He’s propped against the counter like trouble is second nature, a slow grin curving as his gaze locks on me.
‘Well, well, well…look what big brother dragged in.’”
Every head turns at the announcement, greetings spilling across the room.
Mrs. Masters abandons her spoon mid-stir and hurries over, wrapping Linc up like she’s been waiting all week for this moment. “My oldest finally shows up for a Sunday dinner.”
He folds her into his arms without hesitation. “Hasn’t been that long, Ma.”
“Long enough.” Affection radiates through her words before she tips her head back, studying him. “You been staying out of trouble?”
His mouth curves into that cocky half-smile. “Of course. I’m the poster boy for good behavior, the family’s role model.”
His mother swats his chest with a laugh. “God help us all if that’s the case.”
Linc chuckles, shameless as ever, before guiding me forward with a hand at the small of my back. “Ma, you remember Harlow.”
Her gaze softens as it lands. “I sure do. It’s so nice to see you again, Harlow.” She leans in, careful of the flowers cradled in my arms, and folds me into a hug that is warm and unhurried—the kind I never grew up with.
“You too,” I murmur, my voice quiet. “Thank you for having me.”
“Of course.” She pulls back, her eyes sweeping over me with kindness. “My goodness…you’re even prettier than I remember.”
Heat climbs my neck, leaving me flustered. “Oh—thanks. Um, these are for you.” I thrust the flowers toward her, painfully aware of how awkward I’m being.
Her smile brightens as she accepts them, fingers brushing the petals. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, sweetheart.” The warmth in her tone lingers long after she turns away.
Linc’s father steps forward then—older, broader, and every bit as striking as his son. I extend my hand politely, but he bypasses it without hesitation, sweeping me into a bear hug that lifts me clean off the ground.
“Good to see you, darlin’,” he rumbles, his voice warm and gravelly. “Glad you could join us.”
I pat his shoulder, laughing a little as I fight for breath. “Me too.”
When he finally sets me back on my feet, Linc looks more than a little amused. He gestures toward the rest of the room. “I’m sure you remember these three boneheads, but I’ll remind you anyway.”
He starts with the youngest. “That’s Nate, holding up the counter over there.”
Nate gives a lazy wave, and I return it with a small one of my own.
“Heath, and his girlfriend, Laura,” Linc continues, nodding toward the couple at the table.
They greet me with an easy smile, which I return.
“And, of course…Cash.”
My heart stumbles at the final name.
Unlike the others, Cash steps forward, rubbing the back of his neck before meeting my eyes. “Looks like I owe you an apology.”
I lift a hand, brushing him off. “You don’t. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” Linc cuts in, his tone firm. “Let him give it.”
Their mother glances between the three of us, worry knitting her brow. “Why? What happened?”
Linc’s hard gaze doesn’t waver from his brother. “Nothing for you to worry about, Ma. Cash just needs to clear something up.”
Cash swallows hard before he speaks. “Look, I didn’t understand the situation back then. I thought I was doing my brother a favor, but I got it wrong. I’m sorry for lying to you.”
Something shifts in my chest, the hurt from that day fading away with the apology. “It’s okay,” I say quietly. “It was a long time ago.”
He grins, almost boyish like, before extending a hand. “Truce?”
My heart warms as I step forward, sliding my palm into his. “Truce.”
The word barely makes it past my lips when something cold and slimy squishes between our hands.
A gasp tears from me as I jerk back. “What the—?”
Green slime drips from my fingers, thick and grotesque, like something out of a bad sci-fi flick.
All the brothers erupt with laughter, the sound ricocheting off the kitchen walls.
“Cash!” Mrs. Masters swats her son with a dish towel, her scold sharp. “For crying out loud, what is wrong with you?”
He shields himself, still laughing. “It was just a joke, Ma.”
“It’s not funny,” she snaps. “This is not how we treat guests.”
“Yeah, dumbass,” Linc drawls, giving his brother a shove, but he fails to hide the smirk edging at the corner of his mouth.
My eyes narrow on him. “Something funny?”
He shrugs. “I mean, it’s a little funny.”
I glance down at the slime dripping from my fingers, then back up at him. “It is. But you know what’s even funnier?”
Before he can react, I streak it across his cheek, then dump the rest into Cash’s hair, coating every strand within reach.
Cash yelps and bolts, the entire kitchen bursting into laughter again.
“That a girl.” Mrs. Masters tosses me her towel like it’s a badge of honor.
I wipe my hands and then lob it at Linc.
He catches it with that cocky smirk. “You’re lucky you’re hot, Goldilocks.”
The spark in his voice promises retribution, and, if I’m being honest, every part of me aches for it.
Nate moves then, slinging an arm around my shoulders like we’ve been friends forever. “Come on. You survived initiation—time for your induction.”
Before I can even process what that means, I’m steered into the living room with Heath and Laura on my heels, Linc and Cash lingering behind to clean up. Controllers litter the coffee table in front of the TV, a Mario Kart tournament already waiting like a challenge laid down hours ago.
“You ever play?” he asks.
I shake my head and forgo telling him my parents believed video games rot your brain.
His grin stretches like he’s just hit the jackpot. “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”
He hands me a controller, and within seconds we’re off to the races.
Heath and Laura chime in from the couch with play-by-play commentary. Turns out, I’m a fast learner. Ten minutes in, Nate’s kart goes sailing off Rainbow Road, and the look on his face is priceless.
“What the hell?” Nate groans, flopping back against the cushions like I’ve just wrecked his entire career.
“Maybe you should stop going easy on her,” Laura quips, earning a laugh from both of us.
Nate isn’t the least bit amused.
Cash strolls in then, freshly scrubbed and wearing his usual cocky grin. “All right, my turn. Who’s getting smoked?”
He gets the shock of his life when Nate shoves the controller into his hands. “No fucking way.”
The smile I give him is as smug as they come. “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”
Amusement flashes across his face, edged with challenge. “You’re going down, Ice Queen.”
The nickname doesn’t sting. If anything, it settles over me, worn and familiar.
We dive in, controllers clicking, the room alive with cheers and banter.
My pulse hammers with every lap as Laura coaches me from the sidelines, determination coiling tight in my chest. This round feels different than the last. Less about winning and more about earning their respect.
On the final stretch, I send Cash’s kart spinning off the track, victory surging through me as the room erupts.
Cash blinks, as if he can’t believe that just happened.
My brow arches. “Looks like Little Slimer could use a few driving lessons.”
Cash growls and hooks an arm around my neck, dragging me into a playful headlock.
I squeal, laughter spilling out until my cheeks ache.
“All right, Ice Queen,” he concedes, voice lighter as he lets me up. “I guess you’ve earned your place here.”
He tosses it out like nothing, but to me it’s everything.
Still smiling, my gaze drifts to the entryway. Linc leans against the frame, arms crossed, watching me with a look that cuts deeper than bone. It isn’t casual—it’s consuming. The kind of look a girl could drown in and never want to surface from.
By the time dinner rolls around, everything feels easier, natural even. Laughter drifts across the table, stories weaving back and forth, and for once, I’m not on the outside looking in. With this family, I feel like I finally belong.