Say I'm Yours Page 45

I tried to explain that some people pull back because they think it’ll ease their suffering, he didn’t care, which I understand as well. Trent is trying to get Zach to realize it isn’t about what he wants. That it’s about their dad and what he needs , but emotions are irrational things.

“So,” Rhett clears his throat, “I see you got your girl back.”

Trent smirks. “I sure did, Pop. You’d be proud.”

“That’s my boy. I always knew we’d done something right with him.” He takes Macie’s hand. “I was a little worried there for a while, with him bein’ so hardheaded, but he smartened up. You make sure you keep him on the right track, Grace.”

“Hey,” Trent complains. “I’m your son, shouldn’t you be on my side?”

His father laughs. “I think because you’re my son I should sympathize with her.”

It’s great seeing his father in good spirits. It’s weighed heavily on Trent. He doesn’t always say anything, but I can see the gravity of the situation in his overall mood. I love my father so much, and I know I would be broken if I knew I was on borrowed time with him.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Trent garners our attention. “Gracie and I are going to move in together. I’m going to start bringin’ my things over to her place and we should be fully done this week.”

Macie’s face illuminates. “Oh! Finally!”

“Ma!”

“Don’t ‘Ma’ me.” She slaps his shoulder. “We’ve been hopin’ you two would move forward. You can’t say it hasn’t been a long time comin’. I’m so happy I could cry.”

“I know that was my first thought.” I shrug.

Trent incoherently grumbles under his breath. “Women.”

Macie asks a million questions about how we got to this point. She almost falls out of her chair when I tell her how easy it came together. Her eyes brighten by talking about how happy we are. Rhett’s spirits lift as well.

After a few hours, Trent explains we have a lot to do and need to get going. We say our goodbyes and promise to come back tomorrow.

I already love being back around this family.

“You all right?” Trent asks as we drive back to his place.

I’ve been in my head since we left. Thinking about how Trent will be moving off their land. I’m not sure it’s the right thing with everything going on.

“Are you okay with movin’ in to my place?”

“Of course I am. Why would you ask that?”

“Because your mom might need you now more than ever. Zach is on the other side of the property, and Wyatt is so busy with Angie, which will only get worse after the baby is born. It makes sense we’re around to help more.”

Trent’s face brightens, and I can’t figure out what he’s happy about. His father is sick and we should be around if they need us, especially since he’s the firstborn. His mama is going to be dealing with Rhett’s treatments and then whatever complications might arise.

“What are you smilin’ for?” I ask.

“Because you said we should be around to help,” he replies unapologetically.

“You’re a mess.”

“Never said any different, sweetheart.”

I laugh to myself and get back to the issue at hand. “You still want to move?”

Trent places his hand on my leg. “I’m not letting you get away, Grace Rooney. If you don’t want me movin’ in, you’re going to have to find a better excuse than this. My father wants nothing more than for us to be happy. In fact, I promised him I would do everything in my power to make you smile.”

“Okay, so you want to do this?”

“Yes, of course I do. It’s not like your house is an hour away. Look, I want to live with you. I want to wake up beside you every day. I want to make you very happy, sweetheart.”

I touch the side of his face as he pulls in to his drive. “Well, I can’t wait for all of those things. Maybe you should make good on that promise. I can think of a few ways . . .”

Chapter 16

T rent has been moving his things over without me saying a word, helping Macie get Rhett settled at home, and spending as much time as he can with me. Today though, is full on moving in day.

He said he was done bringing things in drabs, he wants to build our life together and is tired of pussy footing around.

After his first wave of belongings, I realized I would actually have to make room for his stuff. I don’t think I fully understood that part. Thankfully, Presley came over to help me downsize. She and I spent hours going through clothes, boxes of memories, and a bottle—or two—of wine. There’s now room in the closet for at least some of his clothes, and I cleared four drawers, which was a miracle.

“Where should we put this?” Trent holds the deer’s head that he had mounted.

“In the garbage?” I offer.

He chuckles, but I’m not joking. There’s no way that ugly ass thing is hanging in my very well-decorated home. He can use his house as a man cave for all I care. He can smoke, drink, play cards, and hang his kills there because it ain’t happening here.

“Oh, come on. It’s a great coat rack.”

“No way.” I point outside. “It’s not comin’ in here.”

Trent grumbles and carries it back outside. I’ve already agreed to the ugliest chair known to man. I don’t know where he was storing it, because I’ve never seen it in his house, but he marched in and said it had to stay or he was leaving with it. It’s made of the scratchiest wool I’ve ever felt, and we won’t even talk about the plaid pattern. Whoever made it took whatever colors of wool they had and went for it. It doesn’t match anything.

And yet, here it sits in my living room.

Aside from the ugly chair incident, we’ve migrated his things in pretty seamlessly. However, that dead deer head isn’t going anywhere in this house.

I manage to help him unpack a few more boxes before he grabs me by the waist and throws me to the bed, saying we needed to christen the house now that he lives there. Who am I to protest?

“You think we’re goin’ to regret this?” I ask as we’re lying in bed with only the sheet covering us.

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