Southern Bombshell (North Carolina Highlands 5)

All four of my brothers exchange glances: Beau with Samuel, Rhett with Hank. Then Hank with Beau, Rhett with Samuel. I try not to crack a smile. Their coordinated concern is cute.

“Sounds serious,” Hank says.

“It is,” I say, nodding. “Long story short, Wilson Kingsley’s gambled himself into a hole. His debts are a threat to Nate and me—”

Beau’s fist lands with a muted thud on the table. “Did that fucker threaten you?”

I choose my words carefully. “Wilson did seem to suggest he was interested in my money, yes. Our money. The resort’s.”

“Enough said.” Samuel stands, his chair skidding across the floor. “Where is he?”

Hank follows suit, the two of them looming over the table. Rhett and Beau are perched on the edges of their seats, ready to join them at any moment.

I glance at Mom, who dips her head in encouragement. Keep going.

“Y’all, sit down. Please. I’ll tell you everything I know, I promise, but you gotta promise you’ll keep level heads.”

Samuel and Hank exchange one of their glances. They sit.

“Thank you,” I say. “Not only has Wilson threatened us, he also threatens the future of Kingsley Distilling. If we don’t push Wilson out, that there”—I gesture at the whiskey in their glasses—“is the last you’ll ever taste of Redheaded Romeo.”

Rhett rolls back his shoulders, cracking his neck. “Can’t let that happen.”

“Not on my watch,” Samuel says. “My palate will never forgive me.”

I roll my eyes. “Anyway. This weekend, Nate figured out a way to become a majority stakeholder in the company so he could buy out his dad, who has a minority stake in the distillery. According to the shareholder’s agreement, Wilson has to hand over his stake. But we need him to do more than that. We need him to take his money and disappear.”

Beau’s eyes bulge. “Disappear as in—”

“Spend the rest of his days drinking rum on some Caribbean island,” I say, heading off any suggestion of foul play. Our story will not end up on a True Crime podcast. “I want him as far away from Asheville as possible.”

“Ah. So you want us to provide some . . .” Samuel cracks his knuckles. “Motivation.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, yes,” I say. “From what I understand, Wilson’s a chickenshit, so you won’t have to, you know, actually punch him or anything.”

Hank laughs. “Punch him. You’re cute.”

“But if y’all are there when we kindly but firmly request he make himself scarce, I think that would really drive the point home, you know? It would also mean a lot to me if y’all showed your support for my relationship with Nate.”

My brothers do that exchanging-glances thing for the hundredth time. While they ponder, I’m hit by a pang. I’ve been away from Nate for all of an hour—I left his place after lunch under the guise of grabbing some clean clothes and groceries—but I miss him.

This conversation was one I had to have on my own, however. Nate wouldn’t want to put my brothers out, not so soon after he worked his way into their good graces. Chances are, we won’t need the intimidation my family can provide. But that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. I’m in love with Nate, and I’m not going to let anyone—least of all Wilson Kingsley—get in the way of our future together ever again.

If my family shows their support and it tips the scales in our favor, Nate will be grateful.

My heart pounds as I wait for someone to speak. At last, Beau looks at me.

“Not gonna lie, Milly.” He folds his arms behind his head and leans back in his chair. “Nate’s not who we thought you’d end up with. I thought you’d want, I don’t know, a celebrity or a surgeon or something.”

“A Saudi prince,” Samuel adds.

“A masochist,” Rhett says with a smile, and I reach across the table to cuff his shoulder. “What? I’m not wrong.”

“What’s wrong is that y’all have opinions about my love life at all,” I reply. “I’m happy, and Nate and I are committed to each other. That’s all that matters, right? So enough meddling.”

Hank points the gun of his thumb and forefinger at me. “When did that ever stop you from meddling in our lives?”

“Y’all needed a lot of guidance,” I sniff. “I’m not wrong, am I, Mom?”

Mom just smiles. “Y’all are too funny.”

Beau shakes his head. “We were the ones who were wrong. What you were looking for, you weren’t going to find it with any of those guys.”

“Oh?” I cross my arms. “And what am I looking for, since you seem to know me better than I know myself?”

“This.” Rhett opens his arms, a gesture meant to encompass everyone in the room. “A full table. A full heart.”

Samuel rolls his eyes. “That’s the cheesiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Your shirt’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. What is that? A mermaid?” Rhett shoots back.