Southern Bombshell (North Carolina Highlands 5)

Reese smiles. “Done.”

We also need to talk about our living arrangements, clearly—living apart is not working for me—but one thing at a time.

“Milly booked our dancing lessons, by the way,” Reese says, bumping her hip into mine. “Get excited.”

“Do I have to?”

“How about this,” Reese says. “I’ll agree to Scotland if you agree to dancing lessons. First one is Thursday morning.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I’m getting good at it, aren’t I?”

“The best.”

Still, I try my best to hide my disappointment as I help Reese into her car and watch her drive away. Climbing into the Bronco, I fight a host of weird feelings. Regret. Extreme hunger. Bewilderment over the fact that, despite spending over three hours at a swanky restaurant with Reese, we didn’t really eat or laugh or do much connecting at all, except about work.

This date night was kind of a bummer.

So is driving home alone on a Friday night. But it’ll get better once we’re married. It has to, right?

Chapter Six

Nate

I’m on my way to Shag Now, the dance studio Milly so kindly selected for lessons, when my phone rings.

It’s Reese.

“Hey!” I answer. “I’m almost at the studio. You there?”

“Actually, I’m in Greenville.”

I pump the brake. “Greenville, South Carolina?”

“Yup. My plane had to make an emergency landing. Everyone’s okay, but I guess there was a mechanical issue with one of the engines. We’re going to board again in a bit, but needless to say I’m not going to make the lesson. They didn’t want us using our phones until we landed, which is why I’m only calling you now.”

The light turns green, and I make a left. “You sure you’re okay? How was the landing?”

“Landing was fine. A little faster than normal, but nothing to write home about. I just feel bad I’m not with you right now. I was really looking forward to shagging you.”

“Shagging with me.”

I hear the smile in her voice when she replies, “Either way, I’m dying to see you shake what your mama gave you. I’ve been looking forward to it since our date night.”

It’s been a few days since our first (and hopefully last) trip to Bubble. The morning after, Reese flew out to Charleston to sort out some exciting new developments down there with the Hooties. Blowfish. Whatever. Point is, I haven’t seen her since.

“Welp, huge bummer that we have to cancel the lesson,” I deadpan. “I’ll give them a call—”

“Oh no, Nate, I really want you to still go. I say this with love, but you need all the help you can get. Please, please go.”

My Bronco and I simultaneously groan as I pull up to a stop sign. “I’d strongly prefer not to.”

“Please? For me? You know how much I love to dance, and to see you dancing like the little Bruno Mars I know you have inside you at our wedding would make me so happy.”

Going to this lesson alone is literally the last thing I want to do. I’ve got some promising barrels to taste this afternoon. A new book to crack open tonight. I’m not the biggest fantasy fan, but I loved Name of the Wind so much I’m already halfway through the second book in this series.

But what Reese wants, she gets. So I find myself grunting fine and making another left.

“Call me when you’re back in Asheville safe and sound?” I ask.

“Of course. Thank you, Nate. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“I miss you.”

“Miss you too. Have fun.”

Yeah fucking right.

Shag Now is in one of the old mills downtown developers are slowly refurbishing into office space and condos. It’s got big steel windows and a sign hanging above the front door featuring an illustrated Austin Powers ballroom dancing with Dr. Evil. Shag now AND shag later! Asheville’s premier ballroom dancing studio since 1982.

Okay, that’s kind of cute.

I still trudge through the door into the bright, airy space.

“You must be Nate!” A super-short, heavyset woman with red glasses that match her lipstick smiles at me. She hustles over from a wall lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, her heels clicking on the polished wood floor. “Welcome to the studio.”

I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans and glance around uneasily. “I suck at this.”

“Saying hello to people?”

“Dancing.”

Her smile broadens as she sticks out her hand. “Then you’re in the right place. I’m Holly.”

“Nate Kingsley.” I take her hand and give it a firm shake. The woman barely comes up to my chest, so I have to bend down to do it. “My fiancée can’t make it today, but she wanted me to come so I could learn to shag her.”

Holly looks me up and down, and then wags her eyebrows. “Good sir, something tells me you already know how to do that quite well.”

“That kind of shagging, yes. But this kind?” I motion to the studio. “I’m warning you, it’s tragic.”