Steal My Magnolia (Love at First Sight #3) - Karla Sorensen Page 0,89

"But he told you what those feelings were?"

"He did." I swiped at my cheek.

"Magnolia, pride is a dangerous thing in the wrong hands. And it comes in all different shapes and sizes for all sorts of reasons. Pride in your work and your mind and your family and your things. But when you lay your heart at someone else's feet—the right person's feet—you don't worry about what they might do to it. You trust that the person you give that heart to will protect it. They'll value it so much that your pride is a worthy sacrifice when it comes to your happiness."

Well, whatever tears I'd stemmed started right back up again. Daddy's eyes watered suspiciously as he dug into his pocket and gave me his handkerchief.

I cried because I missed Grady.

Because his feelings still scared me a little.

But mostly, I think I cried because I knew it was okay that they scared me.

He'd laid his heart at my feet because he trusted me with it. Being scared of that, the way he'd refused to let his pride come before what he felt for me, meant that I cared too.

"Is it," he said, stopping to clear his throat, "is it that Buchanan boy?"

Emitting a watery laugh, I nodded. "He has a name, you know."

"I know what his name is."

From around the back of the house, my momma wandered up, pole in hand and a slight smile on her face.

When she saw me crying, she paused. "Good Lord, what did I miss?" she asked.

"Magnolia's got a new man," Daddy said gruffly.

She ascended the steps, a dimple appearing to the side of her mouth as she watched us. "That so?"

"He can't be too bad, I suppose," Daddy admitted.

Momma leaned her fishing pole against the rail, and instead of taking an empty chair, she slid easily onto Daddy's lap, curling her arm around the back of his neck.

"Why's that?"

Daddy slid his hand up her jeans-covered thigh and closed his eyes contentedly. "I figure any man who's smart enough to love our daughter and tell her so right away is all right by me."

I laughed, and Momma smiled.

She leaned down to press a soft kiss on his mouth. "Reminds me of someone else."

He grunted.

"It's Grady, right?" she asked, eyes resting carefully on me.

"How'd you know?"

"I met him just after you started working for him." Her smile was mysterious, just like so much was about my mother. "He made sure to tell me that I should be proud to have you as a daughter."

I sat forward. "He did?"

She hummed. "Any man who's brave enough to tell me what I ought to feel about anything, especially my own daughter, is all right by me."

Daddy blinked. "Are you wearing house slippers, Magnolia?"

All three of us looked down at my feet, which were clad in pink fuzzy slippers. I lifted my chin imperiously. "Yes, I am."

"Huh."

I stood quickly. "I need to go."

"Already?" he asked. "You just got here. I could make some breakfast."

My heart was racing. "I forgot to leave some Valentine's decorations at the office."

My parents traded a look.

"You okay, Magnolia?" my momma asked.

I nodded. "Never better."

With a peck on the cheek for both of them, I ran in my pink fuzzy slippers back to my car and jammed the key into the ignition and started it.

Before I backed out of my parents' driveway, I pulled out my phone and flipped furiously until I reached my voicemail screen. There it was, as it had been for weeks. Waiting patiently for when I would be ready to hear it, just as he'd said.

I pressed the play button, his voice filling the car from the speakers.

"It's me."

Oh Lord, how I'd missed that voice.

"I probably should have handled all of this differently, Magnolia." He sighed. "I'm sorry for telling you the way that I did. Sometimes, I get so excited about stuff happening that I don't always think through how I've got to get there." Grady chuckled under his breath, probably thinking about the way he'd begun with Valley Adventures. "But you know that. I think I'm most sorry that I made you feel stuck or trapped in any way because the way I feel about you, that's the last thing I'd ever want. So, while my intentions were good, the execution was ... lacking. What I should have done in that tent was tell you that I could kiss you like that for the rest of my life, and I'd be perfectly happy. I should have told you that