Southern Bombshell (North Carolina Highlands 5)

“The tragedies are my favorite.” Holly loops her arm through mine and guides me toward the mirrors. “I live for the emotions they evoke. Star-crossed lovers? Ghosts doomed to wander the earth until their deaths are avenged? Gimme.”

“Hamlet fan?”

“Oh, yeah. Why don’t you take off your jacket? Since your fiancée won’t be here, you and I could give it a go.”

“I’m a one-woman man.”

“I’m a one-woman woman. But that doesn’t mean we can’t practice with others, right? It’s ultimately for their pleasure—the more we practice, the better we get, the more they come.”

“Come?” I peer at her.

Holly’s lips twitch. “To the studio. What did you think I was talking about?”

I roll back my shoulders and remove my jacket. “I like you.”

“Just wait until we shag. You’re gonna like me even more.”

“Do the shag jokes ever get old?”

“They do not, no.”

I head back toward the door to hang my jacket on a peg beside it. Glancing out the windows, I see a familiar white Mini Cooper swing into the parking spot beside mine.

My stomach drops.

It drops again when Milly opens the door and climbs out. She shakes her hair out of her face and hikes a tote bag over her shoulder. She’s wearing an elegant, pale pink wool coat and big ass sunglasses, and when she starts walking, I can just glimpse her bare knee through the slit in her coat. Sunshine glints off the smooth, pale skin, and I’m hit by the memory of how soft she felt there.

How soft those legs felt against my sides and back when she wrapped her limbs around me and fucked me until whatever I was worried about disappeared.

I adore you, she’d whisper in my ear.

There’s a searing burn inside my chest.

“Milly,” I blurt when she walks through the door, bringing a gust of cold air with her. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes lock on mine, and her footsteps falter. I reach out but she steadies herself on the metal bar on the back of the door. “Hey. Hi. Hello, Nate.” She glances around the studio. “Where’s Reese? I just got, um, the invitation mock-ups from the stationer and I wanted to, you know, have y’all approve them so we can get everything printed. It’s—the sooner we can do that, um . . . it’s just, time is of the essence, you know?”

Milly is never off-kilter. The idea that she’s as rocked by this chance encounter as I am—

Doesn’t matter.

“Reese’s plane had to make an emergency landing. She’s fine, but she couldn’t make today’s lesson.”

Milly’s eyes go wide. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I guess I’ll hold on to these mock-ups then until she’s back? Or do you want to take a look?”

“Reese picked out the invites, so I figure she’ll want to make sure they’re what she wants.”

“Okay. Wow. Poor thing—I hate that she had to go through that.”

“It worked out, though,” Holly says, sidling up to me. “Nate here’s going to take a solo lesson.”

Milly’s eyes go even wider. “Really?”

“Really,” I say glumly.

Holly glances at me. Glances at Milly. Then back at me. She purses her lips. “Actually, this might work out. Milly, can you stay for a bit? You’re a better height for Nate to practice with. He’s just so dang tall—”

“What?” Milly scoffs a little too loudly. “I’m not tall!”

“You are in those shoes.” Holly nods at Milly’s sky-high boots. She looks at me. “Is Reese closer to my height or Milly’s?”

My face burns. “Uh. Milly’s, probably.”

“That settles it.” Holly beams at us. “How about this timing, y’all? Almost like it’s meant to be. Nate, we’re gonna have you shagging in no time.”

“I can’t,” Milly stammers, her cheeks a shade of pink that matches her jacket. “I can’t stay, I mean. I have a thing—”

But Holly is already shuffling across the studio, calling out over her shoulder, “Trust me, Milly, Reese’ll thank us! Aren’t you the one who says it’s all about keeping the bride happy?”

My pulse thumps in my ears. Milly looks at me. I look back.

“You don’t have to stay,” I say softly.

“Yes, she does!” Holly calls. A beat later, “Rich Girl” by Hall & Oates starts playing through the speakers overhead. I roll my eyes.

Fuck you, universe.

Milly’s eyes dart to the door. Please, please go, I silently plead. As much as I don’t want to be stuck taking a dance lesson alone, I also don’t want to be around Milly longer than I have to. She has a way of holding my thoughts captive that is . . . not ideal.

Still, the stuff inside my chest lifts when she sets her bag down on a nearby chair.

“Five minutes.” She unbuttons her coat. “That’s all the time I have.”

Holly’s shaking her hips in front of the mirrors. “Five minutes is better than none. C’mon, y’all! Let’s do this thing.”