As weeks passed, Tank settled into a new rhythm. He was working local hauls, mostly around Georgia, with a few trips to nearby states. He enjoyed the routine, but there was one thing that had changed: Kayla was now a part of it. She stayed at his house when he was on the road, or sometimes she tagged along on shorter trips.

Tank felt a sense of pride and protectiveness over her, wanting her to have a space where she could simply unwind and relax. He never pressured her to figure out what she wanted to do with her time. He understood the toll everything had taken on her and wanted to give her the time to find peace, however long it took.

Kayla took it upon herself to organize Tank's home, clean up, and generally make it a welcoming place for when he returned. She spent her days taking long baths, reading, and doing anything that helped her feel grounded again. She was still hesitant about meeting Tank's family, especially his overprotective mother, Sherri, and his two sisters who were just as protective. But Tank had crafted a story for them, one in which they'd met in Atlanta and had been casually getting to know each other for a few months. The lie made Kayla feel safer, but it also made her nervous, knowing that the day would come when his family would eventually meet her.

Tank made sure to visit his mama and pops regularly, especially since he'd been staying closer to home. He always stopped by for lunch or a quick visit to check in. It was on these visits that Sherri began to notice subtle changes in her son. Tank wasn't his usual self, the one who always had an excuse to leave and never stayed in one place for too long. His home wasn't messy like it used to be; he seemed settled. He took the time to stop by, and when he did, he had a calm demeanor. His life was quieter now, and though she didn't know why, Sherri couldn't ignore the changes.

She noticed it, and so did his sisters, Tanya and Tamera. They were always hovering, keeping tabs on him, making sure everything was okay. They didn't have the full picture, though. They didn't know about Kayla living with him, nor did they know that their baby brother had someone he was protecting in his own way. The three women—well-intentioned as they were—didn't know the whole truth. But that didn't stop them from questioning him. Tank could feel the weight of their stares, the unasked questions they sometimes threw his way, but he didn't let it get to him.

He had a good thing with Kayla. A protective thing, a careful thing. She was beginning to heal, and he was going to do whatever it took to make sure nothing from her past would harm her again.

But one evening, when Tank returned home after a long haul, he found himself sitting across from his mother at her kitchen table, a cup of coffee in his hands. She was quiet for a long time before she finally asked, "Tank, are ya sure everything's okay? You've been actin' different lately. Ya stayin' closer to home, ya been visiting here more often... What's goin' on, son?"

Tank didn't flinch. He had expected this moment, knew it was only a matter of time. But the way his mother's eyes searched his, full of concern, made him pause. He wanted to tell her everything, wanted her to know how he felt about Kayla, how he was protecting her—but he couldn't risk it. Not yet.

Instead, he took a deep breath, and with a soft smile, said, "I'm just...in a good place, Mama. Things are good. That's all."

Sherri didn't look convinced, but she let it go for the moment. Still, Tank knew the questions would keep coming. His family was protective, but they cared about him more than anything.

As he sat in the kitchen, the weight of their curiosity on him, Tank's thoughts drifted to Kayla. She was in his living room, probably curled up with a book or a movie, completely unaware of the storm brewing in his family's curiosity. He smiled at the thought of her being his peaceful anchor through it all.

For now, Tank was determined to keep his world with Kayla private, even if it meant lying to his family for a little longer. He wasn't ready to share her with the world, not just yet. She needed to be safe, and he needed to make sure he kept her that way.

As Tank left his mama's house, he drove his F150 through the familiar route, pulling up the long driveway toward his home. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting an orange hue over the land. He parked his truck and got out, the gravel crunching beneath his boots as he made his way toward the garage. He closed the garage door behind him, the sound of it echoing in the otherwise quiet yard.

Tank took a deep breath, appreciating the peace that came with being back at his house. The day had been long, but it was good to be home. He walked through the door that led into the kitchen, and the familiar, mouthwatering scent of food hit him. Kayla was at the stove, focused on the meal she was preparing. His eyes instantly traveled over her, noting how her shorts hugged her figure as she moved, her hair pulled up in a messy bun as she worked.

"Smells good, baby," Tank said, his voice low and full of appreciation as he walked over to her.

Kayla smiled without turning around, clearly happy to have him back. "You're just in time."

Tank grinned as he approached her, swatting her behind lightly with the newspaper he'd picked up on the way in. "Whatcha cookin'?" he teased, his deep voice thick with affection.

Kayla laughed softly, glancing over her shoulder at him, a playful spark in her eyes. "Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn. Thought you'd like it."

Tank leaned back against the island, watching her with an easy smile as she worked the frying pan. He allowed his eyes to wander, openly eyeing her figure—something that had become second nature between them. They both knew the look he gave her, and it wasn't something he was shy about. It was a mix of appreciation and desire, the kind of attention that made Kayla's heart race. She knew what it meant, and she loved it. The way he looked at her made her feel wanted, desired—something she craved deeply.

She could feel his gaze on her, could feel the weight of it, but she didn't mind. In fact, she welcomed it. It was more than just the way he admired her body. It was the way his attention was solely on her, how everything else faded when he was with her. Kayla liked the way Tank touched her—how he claimed her in a way no one else had before. She craved him, his touch, his gaze. She wanted no one's attention but his, and he gave it to her in ways that made her feel seen, valued, and protected.

Tank smirked as he watched Kayla move around the kitchen with ease, her bare feet padding against the hardwood floor. She had settled into his space like she belonged there, and truth be told, he liked it. Loved it, even. The way she hummed under her breath while stirring the mashed potatoes, the way she licked sauce off her finger without even realizing he was watching.

"You tryna make me lose my mind, huh?" Tank drawled, his deep voice laced as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Kayla glanced at him over her shoulder, feigning innocence. "I don't know what you talkin' about."

Tank chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he pushed off the counter and walked up behind her, resting his large hands on her waist. "Mmmhmm. I see you, lil bit. You like when I look at you, don't you?" His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was a truth in his words that made Kayla's stomach flip.

She sucked in a breath when he pressed against her from behind, his warmth wrapping around her. "Maybe," she admitted, her voice soft.

Tank grinned against her temple before kissing it. "Ain't no maybe. I know."

He stepped back, not wanting to distract her too much from cooking. He grabbed two plates and set them on the island, knowing dinner was just about done.

"You saw your mama today?" Kayla asked, plating the fried chicken and spooning mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"Yeah," he nodded, watching her serve him first before fixing her own plate. "She on my ass 'bout somethin'—just don't know what yet."

Kayla giggled, already picking up on how close Tank was to his mama. "She trying to figure out why you aren't leaving Georgia. She know something up."

Tank smirked at her knowing expression and reached over, tapping her thigh under the island. "Yeah, and she gon' figure it out soon if you keep laughin' 'bout it."

Kayla shook her head, sitting beside him with her own plate. "I like your mama though. She seem sweet."

"She is," Tank admitted. "But she ain't one to play with. If she knew 'bout you, she'd be knockin' on that door every day tryna figure out who you is and why you up in her baby's house."

Kayla swallowed her bite and met his gaze. "You ever gon' tell her?"

Tank leaned back in his chair, eyes dragging over her face. He had been thinking about it more and more, but he also wanted to protect Kayla from any extra pressure.

"One thing at a time, lil bit," he murmured, reaching over to squeeze her thigh. "One thing at a time."

Kayla and Tank continued to eat as he kept his hand on her thigh. They were both so lost in each other's presence didn't hear the front door open until it was too late.

Terrance Sr. stood in the doorway, his brows raising slightly as his eyes flickered between his son and the young woman sitting beside him at the island. The warmth of a home-cooked meal filled the kitchen, but it was the way Tank was leaned in close to Kayla, the way his hand rested comfortably on her thigh under the counter, that made it clear this wasn't just company—this was personal.

"Well, damn," Terrance Sr. muttered, setting the package on the counter. "Now I see why yo' mama been sayin' somethin' off wit'chu." His deep voice carried that Mississippi drawl, thick and amused.

Tank exhaled through his nose, already knowing this moment was bound to happen. He straightened up slightly, but he didn't remove his hand from Kayla. "Pops."

"Boy." Terrance Sr. crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at Kayla. "And who might this be?"

Kayla swallowed, suddenly feeling a little nervous under the older man's gaze. She had heard about Tank's family, but now she was face-to-face with his father—the man who raised him, the man Tank respected.

Before she could find the right words, Tank spoke for her. "This Kayla," he said simply. "She wit' me."

Terrance Sr. lifted a brow at his son's possessive tone but nodded, letting that information settle. "Mmmhmm." He looked back at Kayla. "You from 'round here?"

Kayla shook her head. "No, sir."

"Mm," he hummed. "Well, yo' presence 'round here explain a lot." He turned his attention back to Tank. "Yo' mama gon' have a field day when she find out."

Tank smirked slightly, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. "She don't need to know yet."

Terrance Sr. let out a knowing chuckle, shaking his head. "Boy, you know damn well yo' mama got a sixth sense. She already know somethin' up, she just ain't put the pieces together yet." He glanced at Kayla again, giving her a once-over that wasn't judgmental but assessing. Then he sighed. "You cook?"

Kayla blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "Uh, yes, sir."

"Good," he nodded. "Tank, I'ma let you handle yo' business, but you know yo' sisters ain't gon' let up when they find out."

Tank smirked. "Let 'em try."

Terrance Sr. chuckled again, giving his son a knowing look before turning to leave. "Aight, boy. I'll see you tomorrow. Nice meetin' you, Kayla."

"Nice meeting you too, sir," she said softly.

The door shut behind him, leaving Kayla staring at Tank, wide-eyed. "Well... that went better than I expected."

Tank grinned, rubbing his hand over her thigh again. "Yeah, well, we got some time before the real trouble start."

Kayla swallowed, knowing he meant his mama and sisters. If his pops caught them off guard, she could only imagine how the women in his life were gonna react.

The next morning, Tank was barely awake when he heard the sound of car doors slamming and voices carrying through the open land. He groaned, already knowing what was about to happen. Kayla stirred beside him, her body still warm and tucked against his. But before he could even warn her, a sharp knock rattled his front door.

"Tank! Open this damn door!" Tamera's voice rang out, full of authority and nosiness.

Another knock—this one heavier. "Boy, don't make me use my key!" Tanya threatened.

Kayla's eyes shot open. "Oh my Gosh," she whispered, clutching the blanket.

Tank sighed and sat up, rubbing his face. "I knew this was comin'."

Kayla sat up, nerves creeping up her spine. "What do I do?"

Tank smirked lazily, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "Just let me do the talkin', lil' bit." He stood, pulling on a pair of sweats and heading for the door. When he opened it, he wasn't surprised to see his entire family standing there—his mama, his sisters, his brother Terrance Jr., and even the kids bouncing around in the background.

Sherri's eyes narrowed the second she saw her son, her hands on her hips. "Who you got up in here, Tank?"

Tank exhaled, already knowing she wasn't gon' let up. "Mama, chill." He stepped aside, letting them in because he knew they weren't leaving until they got what they wanted.

Kayla was still sitting in bed when they all stepped into the living room. Sherri's sharp eyes landed on her instantly, followed by Tamera's and Tanya's.

Tamera crossed her arms. "Mmhmm. So this what you been hidin'?"

Kayla swallowed, feeling completely exposed. But before she could speak, Tank took control.

"This Kayla," he said, his voice firm and sure. "We met one night in Atlanta, been seein' each other for months now."

Kayla's eyes widened slightly, but she kept her face neutral, nodding along with the lie.

Sherri studied her, her gaze intense. "Months, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kayla answered softly.

Tanya scoffed. "And you ain't think to tell nobody?"

Tank shrugged. "Ain't nobody business but mine."

Sherri let out a deep sigh, shaking her head. "Lord, have mercy. I swear, boy, you gon' be the death of me."

Terrance Jr., who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his tone much lighter. "Well, damn, bruh. If this yo' girl, then I guess we gotta get to know her."

Kayla looked at Tank, who gave her a small nod. She exhaled, knowing that whether she was ready or not, she was officially a part of this family now.