Page 70 of Sweet Trouble
But in that moment, he looked exactly like what Jillian’s mental image of ahusbandalways had—relaxed, masculine, and oozing with confidence, like the world was at his feet.
She swallowed hard and watched her daughters fly up the porch steps to greet him, wrapping their arms around his waist and jumping up and down to tell him about their days.
“Hi,” Tripp said, pretending to sniff the air as Jillian joined them. “Whatcha got there?”
“Gram’s zucchini bread,” she said, smiling at his typical interest in food.
“Nice,” he purred. “Come on in. Everyone’s excited to see you guys.”
Mari’s eyes widened at that, and she hung back to hold Jillian’s hand.
“Do you want to carry the zucchini bread?” Jillian offered, thinking maybe it would make Mari feel better to have a job.
But Mari shook her head, apparently too shy to do anything but hold her mother’s hand and do her best to disappear.
That was just fine though, because the moment Tripp opened the door, they were all distracted by a chorus of voices from the back of the house yelling the wordshoes.
Posey predictably cracked up.
“What’s that about?” Mari asked.
“We try to remember to take our shoes off when we come in,” Tripp said, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “It started when we were kids, and we just never stopped.”
Jillian knew that Tripp was the real reason for the reminder, and that he didn’t always love it, but she had to admit that it was actually kindof charming.
“It’s nice,” Jillian told him, slipping her shoes off and setting them on one of the trays.
The girls took their shoes off too, and Tripp removed his boots.
“Here we go,” he said when they were all ready.
Posey took his hand and they led the way, with Jillian and Mari pulling up the rear. The hallway was warm and she could smell something really delicious cooking.
Jillian had seen the farm from a distance a million times, but she had never set foot in the stone farmhouse, which was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside.
As they headed past a living room with a crackling fireplace, she noticed the framed photos on the walls of the center hall. There were pictures so old that the black and white images were yellowing in the frames, and photos that looked like they must be this year’s school pictures.
“So many children,” she couldn’t help saying out loud.
“Yes,” Tripp said with a smile. “I’ve got nine nieces and nephews right now, and another on the way soon.”
“That’s wonderful,” Jillian said, her heart tugging. She would have loved to have a big family like Tripp’s.
“That’s a lot,” Posey said, sounding impressed.
They passed a formal dining room and came out in a massive kitchen.
While the rest of the house still felt like an old-fashioned farmhouse, the kitchen was far too large and bright to be original. There was a view along two of the walls of the fields and mountains beyond. One side of the kitchen had beautiful wood cabinets and a great big stove. Theother was mostly taken up by a massive wooden table that was already half full of smiling people, all working away at what looked like a crafting project.
“Well, hello there,” an older man Jillian recognized as Daniel Lawrence said, standing. “Welcome, welcome.”
“We’re so glad you could come,” said the lady beside him with the long ponytail of silver-streaked chestnut hair. “I’m Maggie, and this is my husband, Daniel. And these are four of our grandkids—Olivia, Chance, Elizabeth, and Maya, and our son Tag and daughters-in-law Charlotte and Dulcie.”
“Hi, everyone,” Jillian said.
“I’m Posey,” Posey put in happily.
The people around the table chuckled and smiled warmly at her.
