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  I look across at him, obliging him with a droll smile. “For the last time, yes, Tripp.”

  He flashes me an impish grin, moving to get out of the truck. Before I can even get my seatbelt unfastened, he’s opening my door and holding his hand out for me. I stifle my own eye-roll, taking his proffered hand and hopping down from the truck.

  My brother holds my hand as we walk through the front yard of the main house. And I’m glad he’s here. If I can’t have my dad, Tripp is the next best thing. He’s probably the only other person in the world who can stop me from freaking out at a time like this. He’s always been that person for me. Even now, as if he can hear my thoughts, he offers me a knowing, reassuring smile, squeezing my hand gently in his as we continue around the house, toward the tiny gathering congregated by the edge of the hill that overlooks the rolling fields and paddocks.

  And that’s when I spot him.

  And my breath is momentarily stolen from me.

  He stands with Reverend Jackson, the two of them sharing a hushed conversation. And even from here, with his back to me, I can tell he’s as devastatingly handsome as always. Dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans, with a crisp white button-down, his hair swept wild, in its usual and adorable disarray. His hands are clasped behind his back, and I can tell he’s nervous just from the way his thumb is tapping an imaginary and relentless beat against his wrist. Beside him, right there by her father’s side, is Emmy wearing a pretty navy dress, holding a posy of wild flowers, her blonde curls wild, just like her daddy’s. And I smile, my heart clenching in my chest the closer we get.

  All heads turn in my direction, and all attention is focused solely on me as Tripp walks me down the path lined with flowers, his hand never once faltering from mine.

  Rylie greets me with a beaming smile, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a Kleenex. I return my best friend’s smile with one of my own. I don’t know where I would be without her. Since I’ve been back, she’s been my biggest support. I know she’ll always love Colt. She’s the mother of his daughter, and they shared something during one of Colt’s darkest times that no one else, not even me, will ever be able to take away from her. But their love is different. And I am so happy that she’s still here. Because without Rylie, I might not have my Colt.

  Shelby pulls me into a big hug. Cash wraps his strong arms around the both of us. CJ stands on a chair so he can see, grinning mischievously. God, I love my family.

  Lastly, I come to a stop at Oliver. And I can’t help but laugh. In a sea of neutral country folk, he’s dressed in a loud silk shirt and a pair of bright fuchsia skinny trousers. He’s so flamboyant, so extra, so out of place, but so, so him. I love it.

  “You look beautiful, girl,” he says, pulling me in for a hug.

  “Don’t you know it’s in bad taste to upstage the bride at her wedding?” I pull back, offering him a dubious once-over.

  Oliver smirks, winking at me, playfully popping his collar. “You know it.”

  “Thank you for coming all this way, Ols,” I whisper. “I have a feeling if it weren’t for you and what you did, I—”

  He stops me with a wave of his hand. “This is all you, Quinn.”

  I smile at him, fighting what I can of my tears, hugging him once again and taking that moment to just breathe him in, his slightly overpowering Tom Ford cologne causing my head to spin.

  “Come on, Quinny.” Tripp tugs on my hand.

  I go with him, continuing until we reach Reverend Jackson. And it is then that Colt finally turns to look at me. And what a look it is. One of incredulity. One of pure adoration. One of awe. One of almost every emotion that makes me weak at my knees. I smile, and his eyes turn glassy, reflecting the afternoon sun as he looks at me, down to our bump with such a loving tenderness I can feel it with every beat of my heart. He reaches out, placing both hands on my waist, cradling our baby boy.

  “You finally made it,” he whispers with a smile, a lone tear trailing down over his cheek, one he doesn’t even attempt to wipe away.

  Barely holding back my own tears, I nod, swallowing that pesky lump at the back of my throat. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

  If Quinn and Colt’s romance swept you away, you won’t want to miss Shann McPherson’s Where We Belong! Murph has been patiently waiting for her high school sweetheart to come back home, and she’s overjoyed when he does. But then he hands her an invitation to his wedding … Available now!

  Click here if you’re in the US

  Click here if you’re in the UK

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  Acknowledgments

  This book was written during the time when my entire country was burning down, at the very beginning of a pandemic when I often found myself wondering, “What’s the point? We’re doomed. Who’s going to even bother reading a book, right now?” But I moved past those thoughts, and I continued writing. Because what I’ve learned over my thirty-something years is that books have the power to help people through some of the darkest days, pulling them from the horrible state of reality and taking them away to another life, where, even if only for a few hours, they can forget.

  My dream was to write something that might one day help someone through a tough moment in their life, a horrible day, a bad week, something to help put a smile on someone’s face. Books have helped me, and now I am so grateful that I have that ability to help others, particularly during these times.

  If someone had told me two years ago that I would be writing my acknowledgment for my second book right now, I probably would have laughed. But, here I am. It’s been a dream come true for me, to be able to do what I love, to put words on a page and share them with people all over the world.

  My dream would never have become a reality without the one person who has stuck with me through everything. My love. My Michael. Thank you for doing the mopping and the vacuuming, for taking Niall to the park, for cleaning up after Louis, for doing everything you have done to allow me the time to sit down and write all the words. You’re my rock, and I’m so thankful to have you on my team.

  Thank you to HarperCollins, but especially to my editor, Abi, for helping me through these dark days, when I felt lost and confused through this process, while it felt as if the world around us was quickly beginning to fall apart. I’m really happy with this book, and I’m so thankful that you believed in it, too. I hope to work with you again in the future.

  I have a whole heap of people to acknowledge. Jacki and Karryn, my two writing buddies. Zoe, for all her advice and encouragement along the way. Kristi M for setting me straight and finally being the one person to be able to explain “show vs tell”. Ruby Charlot, for being my go-to. All the friends I’ve made along the way, and those who’ve stuck by me. Margie and LJ for being my two biggest fans (LOL). My family for their support. So many thanks, unfortunately not enough word count.

  Lastly, to you, the person reading this, thank you. As I mentioned above, I hope what I do makes a difference in your life. I’m not solving world hunger, I’m not curing disease, I’m definitely not changing the world. But I hope my words have helped in one way or another. Let’s face it, this world is bad enough right now. All you need to do is read a newspaper or watch the news to see heartbreaking reality after heartbreaking reality. But it’s stories that allow us to escape, that remind us that not everything in this world we live in is bad and horrible.

  For now, I’m going to sign off with the words of Brad Pitt, because well, hello … who doesn’t love a bit of Brad Pitt? But, also, because right now these words couldn’t be more fitting: “If you see a chance to be kind to someone tomorrow, take it.”

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Where We Belong …

  Chapter 1

  I push my glasses up my nose for the millionth time, and while holding my breath and with one eye narrowed, ss
I wipe a tiny smudge of frosting from the silver turntable holding Mr. and Mrs. Robertson’s fiftieth wedding anniversary cake. It may have taken me two full days and most of last night, but I’ve finally finished. Exhaling the breath I’ve been holding for a beat too long, I take a step back to really appreciate my craftsmanship. Four layers of lemon and blueberry perfection, covered in a fluffy whipped buttercream frosting, decorated with beautiful red roses, delicate peonies, and a smattering of baby’s breath, all of which have been hand-piped by yours truly.

  I place a hand on my hip, smiling proudly. “Alice Murphy, once again you’ve outdone yourself,” I whisper under my breath, mentally high-fiving myself.

  The bell above the door to the shop jingles, pulling me from my musings, and I walk through from the kitchen to the front of the store, still smiling at the thought of my latest masterpiece.

  “Welcome to Piece O’ Cake,” I sing in a cheerful customer service voice. “How can I help yo—” Stopping dead in my tracks, my eyes go wide as I gawp at the unexpected figure standing in the middle of the shop. He’s shadowed by the afternoon sun shining in through the windows, backlighting him to nothing more than a darkened silhouette, and I blink hard, unsure whether or not I’m imagining things. But then he speaks. And I would know that voice anywhere. This is definitely not my imagination playing tricks on me.

  “Hey, Murph.” The shadow takes a step forward, coming in to the glow of the overhead lights, and I’m immediately enamored by that all-too-familiar grin.

  “N-Nash?” I gasp.

  His smile is bright and those eyes. I’d remember those eyes anywhere after spending such a big part of my life dreaming about them.

  “Oh my God!” I scream, covering my mouth with trembling hands until I finally come to, ripping off my apron before practically throwing myself over the counter. Jumping up, I wrap my arms around his neck, and emotion gets the better of me as I stand there in the familiarity of his warm embrace with tears of happiness streaming down my cheeks.

  He’s here.

  The love of my life.

  He’s home.

  ***

  The May sun simmers gently upon my shoulders. Birds chirp in sync, their chorus singing through the air. Butterflies flutter aimlessly, whisked away by the gentle breeze. And, in the distance, a child is giggling full of an infectious happiness that I can feel through to my soul. I can’t possibly wipe the smile from my face. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. Nash Harris is actually here, by my side, as we walk beneath the canopy of the lush magnolia trees. The moment couldn’t be any more perfect.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask incredulously, my cheeks stinging from smiling so hard.

  “I wanted to see you.” Nash stops, turning to me and pulling my hands into his. “Actually, Murph, I needed to see you.”

  I look up at him, our eyes meeting as his thumbs gently stroke the backs of my fingers. But when I catch sight of something unfamiliar in his gaze, something unsettling, my heart sinks a little in my chest. I know Nash. Something is wrong. He continues smiling that same beautiful smile, but I can see it in his eyes.

  “Nash, what’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly worried. Is he in trouble? Oh, God. Is he sick? I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to him. Not to my Nash.

  “I’m fine, Murph.” He shakes his head once with a light chuckle, dismissing my concerns, and then, letting go of one of my hands, he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, causing my eyes to widen of their own accord. For a moment my mind begins to get carried away with itself. Between the chirping birds and the fluttering butterflies, the beautiful warm sun, and the backdrop of the inky river reflecting the fluffy white clouds in the sky, it’s all too perfect. And, as he reaches into his pocket, I begin to wonder if Nash Harris is about to drop to one knee and make all my dreams come true.

  The realization that Nash doesn’t have a ring box in his hand snaps me from my reverie. Instead, he presents me with an envelope. And not just any old plain white Staples envelope, but a sparkly gold one, made of real fancy paper. My brows pull together in confusion as I look back up at him, meeting his eyes once again.

  “What is this?” I ask, tentatively taking it from him. But he doesn’t answer. He just takes a step back, letting go of my other hand and scratching at his lightly stubbled jaw as he watches me, waiting. He’s nervous. So am I. And, right now, I almost wish something was wrong with him, because I have a terrible sinking feeling in my belly that whatever this is, I am not going to like it one bit.

  I lift the tab with my index finger and pull out a single piece of card. Looking closer, I push my glasses up my nose, and it takes my eyes a while to adjust to the dim light of the shadows cast by the overhead trees. But then I manage to read the words embossed into the card in my hand, and in that moment, it feels as if my whole world comes crashing down around me.

  Mr. and Mrs. Howard E. Hutchins request the pleasure of your company …

  I stare at it—the invitation—reading the words over and over again as a painful ball of emotion wedges itself into the back of my throat. Suddenly I find it difficult to breathe. “W-what is this?” I finally ask, trying so hard to keep my voice from quavering. I glance up with a tight smile I know doesn’t even come close to reaching my eyes. “You … You’re getting m-married?”

  Nash nods slowly, the ghost of an uncertain smile playing on his lips.

  A flush heats my cheeks, and I know tears are imminent, but I try to keep what little composure I have, looking down at the invitation in my trembling hands in an attempt to avoid his eyes.

  “I wanted to tell you in person,” Nash says. His words are soft and gentle, as if he knows what they’re capable of doing to me.

  “Wow.” I try so hard to sound excited and happy, but I know I’m not even close to pulling it off. My heart is breaking. Actually, no. It’s already broken. And then I do a double take, looking closer at the invitation, and I actually can’t even believe my own eyes. “Next week?” I shriek, finally forced to meet his gaze.

  “Yeah.” Nash tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, shrugging a little sheepishly. “I know it’s sudden. But with my final year of med school coming up, and Anna studying for the bar, if we don’t do it now, we’ll probably be waiting another whole year, and we really don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Anna?” I ask, looking down at her name embossed in shiny black lettering on the invitation. Annabelle Victoria Hutchins. I can only imagine what she looks like. Her name is elegant enough. I bet she’s tall and beautiful. Thin and probably blonde. Nothing like me, Alice Murphy. I once thought Alice was a beautiful name. Beautiful like Alice in Wonderland. But Murphy? Bleh. When all the guys started calling me Murph, I just went with it. Because, let’s face it, I’m certainly no Annabelle Victoria Hutchins.

  “Yeah.” Nash’s wistful smile is enviable as he ruffles a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Murph, you’re gonna love her. She’s great. She’s a lawyer. Well, she will be once she passes the bar. She’s so smart. And funny, and kind, and … Well, she’s just perfect.” His blue eyes actually glaze over for a moment while he gets carried away with himself, and I wince as the bitter taste of bile begins to rise up the back of my throat.

  Thankfully, before he can gauge my reaction, Nash turns, continuing to tread the stone path that trails down to the boardwalk at the river’s edge, and I follow, still speechless as he proceeds to talk. “I was coming out of my favorite juice shop. You know, the one on the same block as my dorm? And Anna was walking with her head down, looking at her phone.” He chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his smiling lips. “She collided headfirst with me, and my smoothie spilled all over the both of us.”

  I smile, but really, all I want to do is cry. But I swallow the emotion, clearing my throat. “B-but, isn’t it a little soon?” I ask, adding a casual shrug to try to lighten my question. “I mean, when I came up to visit you for New Year’s you were … happily single.” I meet his eyes with a kn
owing look. He and I slept together after a drunken night of celebrations on New Year’s Eve. It had been a night of promises, the night I thought everything was going to change. I thought this was going to be our year. And now he’s marrying some woman named Anna?

  “What’s it been? Like, a few months?” I guffaw, shaking my head in exasperation.

  Nash looks at me, and I can see he wants to say something, but he’s hesitating, considering my question. “I guess … when you know, you just know.” He shrugs, looking down to the ground a moment before tentatively meeting my eyes.

  Never before have I imagined someone’s words could feel like such a brutal kick to the stomach, but he’s just about crippled me with that.

  “Yeah.” I look down at my hands as they twist together. “I guess I wouldn’t know.”

  We continue along the boardwalk and, despite the obvious shift in the air between us, Nash keeps talking about his wonderful, perfect Anna, and their impending nuptials. All the while I’m considering whether or not to just jump into the murky water of the Chelmer River and save myself any further torture. He’s killing me, and he doesn’t even know it. Or, worse. Maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he just doesn’t care.

  The thing about Nash and me is that we have a past. It’s more than just the occasional New Year’s hookup. He’s not only my best friend, he was my first crush, my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. He and I were childhood sweethearts who actually thought our love would last forever. But life managed to get in the way and, after we left for college to live our happily ever after together in New York City, my mother’s illness brought me back to Graceville, and our love suffered. I literally went from seeing him every single day, to every third weekend of the month, then every other month until we finally ended things and visited one another when we could.