I’m a part of his family.
My throat closes in. I clear it. “That does feel like a big milestone.”
“Mama’s bringing that peach ice cream you love.”
“Oh, God, that stuff is good. Don’t tell me you asked her—”
“To make it just for you? Maybe.”
“Then she already knows something is going on between us.”
“Something is going on, A.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “That’s kinda the problem, though. I don’t think we have any idea what that something’s going to turn out to be.”
His turn to pause. “I can’t make any promises right now, honey. But I love spending time with you, and I’m missin’ you when you’re gone, and I can’t help wanting to be with you. I’m sorry if I’m making this hard for you. I really am. I just woke up today, and . . . I dunno.” His voice gets rough. “I wish I woke up next to you. Everything’s better when you’re around.”
More tears. More sniffles.
“I’d love to come tonight,” I manage. “What can I bring?”
“Just yourself. And maybe some extra condoms, because when Liam goes to bed . . . well. If you’re down to fu—fun, down to have fun, we’re gonna need a lot of ’em.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Amelia
Hank’s house is set on top of a hill about a mile or so past Blue Mountain Farm’s signature blue barn. It’s beautifully understated, with a swooping cedar shake roof and white shutters. I arrive at five on the dot, but the gravel driveway is already crowded with very fancy cars: a G Wagon with gold rims. A matte black Bentley coupe. A cute little white Mini Cooper that has to be Milly’s.
The Beauregards weren’t wealthy when Rhett and I were in high school. They weren’t poor either, like a lot of their neighbors—the infamous Kingsleys among them—but I don’t think any of us ever dreamed all five siblings would do so well for themselves.
The amount of wealth here is something out of an Edith Wharton novel. Who, coincidentally, visited the Vanderbilts back in the day at Biltmore, their castle-like home about five miles or so down the road.
It’s a gorgeous night, a little on the warm side. But the sky is clear, and the day’s earlier humidity has been replaced by a soft breeze. I hear voices and music the second I open my car door. I can also smell a smoker, the rich, tangy scent of applewood heavy in the air.
Smells homey. My stomach finally rumbles. I didn’t eat much today. Too excited—too anxious—about tonight.
Rhett and I decided to be as vague as possible with his family. Probably not the best choice, but all our options kinda suck at this point, so we went with it. He told everyone I was coming to the cookout and let that be that.
No doubt they’ve already made some very uncharitable and very correct assumptions about what’s going down between us.
Too late to do anything about that now, though.
Walking up the steps to the front door, I get feeling that I’m wading into something. My steps feel purposeful, fateful, my legs heavy like I’m drawing them through water that gets deeper and deeper.
It’s only a matter of time before I’m in too deep.
Then again, maybe I was in over my head the second I signed that contract.
“Amelia!” Milly says when she opens the door. My heart swells at the familiar sound of her voice, the way her words lilt with a solid southern accent. She wraps me in a hug too tight to be polite, and the heaviness around me evaporates. “It’s so good to see you again. Come in, come in, please. Rhett told us you were coming, but we didn’t want to get our hopes up.”
“Yeah, because she’s still way too good for him, and we’re all wondering when she’s gonna figure it out,” comes another voice. I glance over Milly’s shoulder to see Hank, a big smile on his clean-shaven face. “Hey, Amelia. So? How did it go this week? Liam is freaking adorable, but Lord above, does that boy have a pair of lungs on him.”
He pulls me into a hug too, and now I’m smiling so big it hurts. “He’s precious, right? All things considered, this week went well. What about you? I hear your new lady love is in town visiting again.”
He steps back, and I see that he’s blushing a little. The same way Rhett used to blush when he caught me looking at him in chemistry class. It’s adorable, and it makes me ache.
“She is. And she brought some of her new beers. Here, I’ll grab you one. Stevie!” He turns to Milly. “Did she come out yet?”
Milly shakes her head, then glances at me, pointing her thumb in Hank’s direction. “These two can’t keep their hands off each other. They just had a quickie in the bathroom—”