#Chapter199

Oh, hell, not you

Maggie

I was in the kitchen getting coffee for Nash and me when someone knocked on the front door. I answered the door to find an older woman with bright red lipstick standing there.

“Can I help you?”

She gave me a toothy grin. “No, but I can help you.” She winked at me.

Okay, that’s weird.

Nixon reached the top of the stairwell. He spotted the woman as his eyes widened. Then he ran and grabbed everyone.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Nash asked.

“Dude, I do many things. But I don’t kid about Grammy.”

They came downstairs to find us.

“Nashville,” the woman...