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“I heard you were smart,” she said, releasing me just enough to get a good look. “But I had no idea you were this pretty.” She gave Trace and approving look. “Nicely done, bro.”

“What are you— I don’t know what you’re—”

“Save it before you burst a vein.” Rachel slipped her hand into mine, hooked an arm into Trace, and dragged us up the path together. “Look who finally got here.”

The Prescotts parted to make space for us as we joined them on the front porch. Trace and I were too stunned to fully accept the hugs and introductions from Amber and Tina.

How had they found out about me?

Trace’s dad stepped out from behind the jumbled chaos, and offered a hesitant shrug. “Turns out I can’t keep a secret.”

The dread that had been sitting in my stomach doubled in size. Trace had been terrified of his mom’s reaction to this. To the girlfriend who was a distraction he couldn’t afford right now. Not until graduation.

He tensed beside me, his hand hovering near the small of my back. I braced myself for the icy reception that was sure to blow up any second.

“Mrs. Prescott,” I began, my voice deceivingly even. “I’m Dakota. It’s so good to—”

“I know who you are.” She took my hand in hers. Her skin was warm, her grip firm. But the hardness I expected wasn’t there. “I know what you did for Trace. For our family. Thank you.”

Before I could process the words, she pulled me into a hug that smelled like cinnamon and home.

In an instant, the anxiety that had been suffocating us since the highway dissolved into the crisp winter air. Trace let out a relieved sigh that morphed into laughter, and pulled his dad into a hug.

“Check him out,” Rachel teased, poking Trace in the ribs as she looped an arm through his. “He looks like he’s about to lose his lunch. You okay, big brother?”

Trace swatted her away, bringing me back to his side. His parents went in first, and Tina grabbed our bags before ushering us toward the warm light spilling out of the house.

“Get inside before the heat escapes,” his mom called. “Dinner’s been ready for twenty minutes.”

As we moved into the warmth of the Prescott home, surrounded by the chaotic, happy noise of a family reunited after too long, Trace caught my eye.

“That wasn’t too bad,” he whispered, guiding me into the kitchen where everyone had gathered.

“It’ll get better after my heart rate returns to normal.”

The kitchen was a symphony of clanking silverware, the sizzle of something savory on the stove, and the overlapping voices of three sisters who didn’t believe in taking turns to speak.

“Dakota, grab those salad tongs,” Amber said with a welcoming grin as she balanced a heavy ceramic bowl. “Tina, stop hovering and give the woman some space. Get the rolls.”

“I’m on rolls. Tina’s on drinks duty.” Rachel darted around me to snag a basket stacked with bread rolls. She paused, squinting at Trace. “Amber was convinced you made her up.”

“Me?” I asked, stifling a laugh.

“In eighth grade he had a pretend-girlfriend to impress his friends,” Amber deadpanned. “So I was just working off past behavioral patterns.”

I burst out laughing. “You had a fake girlfriend?”

“She was from out of town, so I never had to explain why they couldn’t meet her.” He dipped his head with a shy laugh, and the confession really got them going.

“To be fair,” Tina chimed in, “when I first heard the news, I figured he’d hired an escort just to get us off his back about being single for too long.”

“To look cool for once in his life,” Rachel snickered. This earned a well-timed flick to her arm from Trace in the most typical big brother way possible.

“A very expensive actress,” Tina added. “Because there’s no way a guy who still wears his lucky socks from middle-school landed a girl like this on his own merit.”

I laughed, the sound easy and unforced. “I haven’t seen the socks yet, but I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Trace grumbled, though he was leaning against the counter with a look of relaxed contentment. “They’ve been rehearsing these lines since I called from the road.”