“Maize, do you want rice?” his mom asks.

“Sure. I’m not picky,” I say.

“Only with your men,” Gavin adds.

She carries two bowls, and Gavin grabs the others.

After his dad says grace, I gobble up the gumbo so fast it seems like I inhaled it.

“Help yourself! Have seconds and thirds. Don’t be shy around here,” Wyatt says.

“This is true,” he tells me.

“So tell us a little about you, Maize. How’d you and Gavin meet?” his mom asks.

I swallow down the big bite I’d just taken, and thankfully, Gavin steps in. “We met before my interview at the ranch. Her family owns it.”

“Oh, that’s right. You know me, I forget so much these days,” she admits.

“I work in the family bed and breakfast and plan all the meals each week. I’m responsible for making sure everyone is fed and full. Not any of that processed stuff either. We serve homemade everything and lots of comfort food. I have a few employees to help me because the workers will eat ya out of house and home.”

“Bed and breakfast? Sounds like a place I’d like to visit.” She grins.

“You should. Could get you the family discount.” I laugh and give her a wink.

Rose claps her hands together. “Don’t tempt me with a good time,” she warns with a big smile. “You might spoil me so much I’ll move in permanently.”

“The more, the merrier,” I offer, finishing my second bowl of gumbo. “I grew up on the ranch and am in love with the scenery and how peaceful it is. Small-town living is the best.”

“It really is,” Gavin agrees. “I don’t think I ever want to leave.”

“Well, if you won’t move back home, then we might sell the house and come up there, especially if you have kids.” She looks directly at Gavin, but I don’t think she’s joking.

My face heats. “My parents gave us the kids and marriage talk too,” I explain. “It seems everyone’s ready for that.”

Gavin gives a chuckle and a head nod.

Once we’re finished eating dinner, Gavin and I volunteer to clean up while his parents go to the living room to catch the evening news. We stand next to each other as he scrubs and I rinse the dishes.

“Told you they’d adore you.” He softly bumps his hip against mine.

“Your parents are so nice. Seriously.” I speak loud enough for only him to hear.

He bends down and kisses my forehead. “That makes me so happy. You have no idea.”

After we finish, he takes me on a tour of the house. On the mantel sits framed pictures of him riding bucking broncos and bulls. When he shows me his childhood bedroom, I nearly gasp at all the trophies, medals, and winning belt buckles decorating the room.