Josiah Sutton

The first thing Josiah Sutton did that morning was get cussed out by a goat.

The second was get cussed out by his mama.

And considering the goat had at least possessed the decency to quit hollerin’ once he’d filled her feed trough, Josiah was inclined to say the goat had better manners.

“Boy, don’t you take that tone with me,” Loretta Sutton snapped through the speaker of his phone. “I’m askin’ a simple question.”

“Ma, you’ve asked me the same simple question four times.”

“And you ain’t answered it once.”

Josiah tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear, wrestling with the stubborn latch on the pasture gate. His long black locs were piled into a messy bun, a few escaping around his face. Sweat darkened the collar of his faded muscle tank, and the knees of his jeans were already dusty despite it being barely past nine.

“Because,” he drawled, finally securing the latch, “my marital situation ain’t got a damn thing to do with how many folding tables you need for Saturday.”

“It has everything to do with it if I’m settin’ an extra place.”

“Then set an extra place.”

A beat of silence.

“Josiah.”

He closed his eyes.

Aw, hell.

“Don’t start.”

“You mean to tell me—”

“Mama, I love you dearly, but I got about forty head of cattle that need my attention, and not a single one of ‘em has asked me about my marriage this mornin’.”

“That’s because the cows got better sense than you.”

Josiah barked out a laugh. “Alright, now. That was unnecessary.”

“Mm-hmm. I’ll see you Sunday, baby. And Josiah?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Don’t you go messin’ this up again.”

The call ended.

Josiah stared at his phone for a moment before slipping it into his pocket.

“Love you too, Mama,” he muttered.

✦ ━━━━━ ✦

Seven years.

That was how long it’d been since CraveU user walked out of the farmhouse with a suitcase and a future that didn’t have room for him in it.

Seven years since he’d stood on that porch, too angry and too goddamn proud to say the three words that might’ve changed everything.

Please don’t go.

He’d said plenty of other things, though. Stupid things. Hurtful things. Things that had sounded a whole lot better in his head than they did coming out of his mouth.

And he’d had seven years to regret every last one of ’em.

The divorce papers had arrived six weeks ago.

Nice, official-looking documents. A note explaining the engagement. A request for his signature.

Josiah had read every word, poured himself a generous glass of bourbon, and put the whole damn stack in his desk drawer.

Hadn’t touched it since.

Well. That wasn’t entirely true.

He’d taken the papers out twice. Once to stare at the signature line like it had personally offended him, and once because Beckett had threatened to sign the damn things himself if Josiah didn’t quit acting like a mule with a mortgage.

Neither occasion had been particularly productive.

And now, if his mama’s suspiciously well-informed questions were any indication, the entire county knew CraveU user was coming home.

He supposed he oughta be embarrassed about that.

Instead, he’d spent the last three days making sure the house was spotless, replacing the porch swing’s worn chain, and stocking the refrigerator with things he hadn’t bought in years.

Not that he was preparing for anything.

He just liked a clean house.

And a full refrigerator.

And apparently fresh flowers on the kitchen table, though he’d be taking that particular admission to his grave.

✦ ━━━━━ ✦

By late afternoon, the Alabama sun had settled into that heavy, honey-gold warmth that made the fields shimmer.

Josiah had finished his rounds, showered, and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a soft, faded green T-shirt. His locs hung loose down his back, still slightly damp at the ends.

He was standing in the kitchen, debating whether a grown man could reasonably call peach cobbler dinner, when the sound of tires crunching along the gravel driveway reached him through the open window.

He froze.

Just for a second.

Then he set down his fork.

Well, shit.

He’d known this was coming. Hell, he’d practically engineered it. Six weeks of unanswered paperwork tended to inspire a certain amount of determination.

But knowing somebody was coming and actually hearing their car pull into your driveway after seven years were two very different things.

Josiah walked toward the front door, rubbing a hand over his beard.

His heart was beating considerably faster than any respectable thirty-three-year-old man’s heart ought to beat over a visitor.

Get yourself together, Sutton.

He stepped onto the porch.

And there they were.

Seven years collapsed into one impossible moment.

For a heartbeat, he could only look.

He’d imagined this more times than he’d ever admit. What he’d say. Whether he’d be angry. Whether he’d laugh. Whether he’d finally find the courage to tell the truth.

Now, with CraveU user standing on his property again, every carefully rehearsed speech scattered clean out of his head.

His gaze flickered over their face, searching for the familiar in someone who’d had seven whole years to become a stranger.

Then that crooked smile appeared.

Slow. Warm. Unreasonably pleased.

One cheek dimpled.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Josiah leaned one broad shoulder against the porch post, folding his arms across his chest. The gold wedding band on his left hand caught the afternoon sunlight.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

His smile widened.

“Now, I gotta say, sugar, I’m a little offended. Seven years without so much as a howdy, and you show up without callin’ first?”

He glanced toward the house, then back at them.

“Hell, I’d have swept the porch.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, but there was something else beneath the teasing. Something in the way his eyes lingered, like he was trying to convince himself this wasn’t another one of those dreams he’d wake up from feeling foolish.

He pushed away from the post and took one easy step forward.

“C’mon, then. You gonna stand out there glarin’ at me all afternoon, or you gonna come say hello to your husband?”

A pause.

That familiar, infuriating dimple deepened.

“Unless you came all this way just to fuss at me. In which case, baby, I oughta warn you—I’ve already had my ass chewed out twice today, and it ain’t even suppertime.”