Chapter 198

Five minutes later, Of course, I should’ve expected this. I should’ve. I mean, back in New York, Nathaniel’s reputation was a rolling tabloid headline—playboy firefighter, calendar cover model, serial flirt, heartbreak hazard—take your pick. Nobody batted an eye if his name was linked with some model or socialite.

But here in Texas? Apparently, me laughing with him over onions in the farmer’s market was breaking news.

Before I could even put my bag of vegetables down, Lara had latched onto my arm like I was her favorite toy, her cousins trailing behind her like hungry gossip hyenas. “Come on, Aya,” Lara sing-songed, dragging me toward the living room. “We need the details.”

“There are no details,” I protested, stumbling along as the bag of carrots nearly fell out of my arms. “I literally argued with him about produce and then he insulted my choice of watermelon! That’s all!”

“Mm-hm,” one cousin with perfect braids said, narrowing her eyes like a detective. “And that’s why the whole market said y’all looked like you were on your honeymoon.”

“HONEYMOON?!” My voice shot up three octaves. “We were bickering!”

“Oh, honey,” Lara plopped me on the couch like a prize witness in court. “In Texas, bickering means you like each other. It’s foreplay with extra sass.”

I smacked my forehead. “No. No, no, no. You don’t understand. He’s Nathaniel Lisbon. THE Nathaniel. He probably flirts with cashiers, traffic cops, and nuns for all I know. This is… this is nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” Lara exchanged a knowing look with the cousins. “Funny how you’re redder than the tomatoes you bought.”

“Am not!” I snapped. Which, of course, made them laugh harder.

And then I noticed him.

Leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, smirk glued to his stupidly handsome face. Nathaniel Lisbon. Watching this circus unfold like it was the best entertainment of his life.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he drawled, his voice low and smug. “Go on, tell them how you can’t resist my charm in the produce aisle.”

My jaw dropped. “I will murder you.”

Lara gasped dramatically. “Oooh, murder? Y’all are already at the enemies-to-lovers stage!”

I buried my face in my hands. “Someone please get me out of Texas.”

Nathaniel chuckled—the deep, warm kind that sent goosebumps racing up my arms—and then had the audacity to sit right beside me, draping one arm across the back of the couch like he owned the place. “Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured just loud enough for me and, unfortunately, the whole peanut gallery to hear. “It’s just family fun.”

Family fun, my ass. I could feel every single Lisbon relative burning holes into us with their eyes, their smirks practically carving the word cute into my forehead.

And worst of all?

He was loving it.

I was doomed.

Then.

Living room chaos? Oh no—this was warfare.

The moment I sat on that couch, I realized I was not the guest anymore. I was the main attraction. Lara and the cousins circled like vultures with sweet Texas smiles, armed with questions designed to make me combust on the spot.

“So, Aya…” Lara began innocently, twirling her iced tea like she was hosting a talk show. “Did you two do the deeds already?”

I choked on my own spit. “WHAT?!”

The room exploded with laughter, cousins practically slapping each other’s knees. One even whispered, “She turned redder than Uncle Joe’s barbecue sauce,” which only made my face hotter.

Beside me, Nathaniel leaned back like the smug bastard he was, lips twitching. He didn’t answer, didn’t even try to save me. No, of course not. He was enjoying this. Milking it.

I elbowed him hard in the ribs, muttering under my breath, “Say something, you idiot.”

He leaned closer, voice low so only I heard. “Want me to say yes? That’d shut them up real quick.”

My jaw dropped. “I will strangle you with your own seatbelt.”

Before I could recover, one of the younger cousins piped up with an even louder, “Does Nathaniel still scream when he sees snakes?”

The room went quiet for one glorious beat. Then everyone burst out laughing again.

Nathaniel sat up straighter, frowning. “I do not scream.”

“Oh yes, you do,” Lara said, eyes gleaming. “Tell her about the rattlesnake last summer, Nate.”

“Nope.” He crossed his arms. “Not happening.”

“Oh, I’ll tell it,” Lara announced proudly.

The cousins cheered. I leaned forward, curious despite myself, because if there was anything better than Nathaniel’s smug face—it was Nathaniel’s embarrassed face.

“So,” Lara began, “last summer we were out by the barn when a rattlesnake slid out from the hay. Now, you’d think a firefighter who runs into burning buildings would handle it like a pro, right? Brave, fearless?”

Nathaniel groaned. “Don’t you dare.”

But Lara ignored him, grinning like a devil. “Nathaniel screamed so loud the chickens scattered. He jumped onto the hay bale like it was an Olympic sport and then—”

“—then what?” I asked eagerly, leaning in.

“Then,” Lara said, pausing for dramatic effect, “he threw his boot at the snake and yelled, ‘Begone, demon!’”

The entire living room erupted. Cousins fell off their chairs. One was wiping tears. I doubled over, clutching my stomach, wheezing.

“You—called it a demon?” I gasped between laughter. “You tried to exorcise a snake?”

Nathaniel buried his face in his hands. “It was instinct, okay?”

“No, no, no,” I wheezed, tears stinging my eyes. “You literally fight fires for a living but a snake—” I snorted so hard I couldn’t breathe. “A snake turns you into a preacher?”

“Begone, demon!” one cousin mimicked dramatically, and everyone collapsed again.

I slapped his arm, grinning so hard my cheeks hurt. “Lisbon, I swear, if I’d known your kryptonite was snakes, I’d have brought a rubber one from New York just to torment you.”

He peeked at me through his fingers, scowling. “I hate you.”

“Mm, no you don’t,” I whispered back, still grinning.

And that was when I noticed.

The way he was looking at me. Not just annoyed, not just smug. Something softer, something that made my stomach twist in ways I didn’t want to admit.

But of course, before it could get serious, Lara clapped her hands again and yelled, “So… honeymoon or not?”

The cousins howled. Nathaniel smirked. I nearly launched a cushion at his head.

This family was going to be the death of me.