Southern Bombshell (North Carolina Highlands 5)

Guests and their kids already swarm the food, piling their plates high with dinner and dessert—ice cream sandwiches made with hand-churned peach ice cream.

“What an inviting spread, Samuel,” I say as I go up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Emma, y’all outdid yourselves yet again.”

Patrick pats his stomach as he surveys the tables. “I’m glad I came hungry.”

“I’m glad you came, period.” Samuel glances at me. “Mom really lights up when you’re around. You’re welcome on the farm any time.”

Patrick sticks his hands in his pockets and gets this aw, shucks look on his face. “I try my best to make Junie happy. I’d do anything for her.”

My pulse skips a beat. The man means what he says. He’d go to the ends of the earth to put a smile on my face. I can’t count the number of times he’s surprised me with a weekend away to somewhere fabulous—Santa Barbara, Savannah—and he always makes me feel right at home when I visit him and his kids out in California. We try to see each other at least once a month. While our bicoastal living situation isn’t ideal, I honestly don’t mind the travel that much. It feels glamorous to fly first class to Los Angeles to visit my incredibly sexy boyfriend.

It’s fun. And I’m all about fun these days.

Speaking of fun, Hank begins his set. He starts with a cover of The Rolling Stones’s “Waiting on a Friend,” which immediately gets everyone dancing. My chest swells as, one by one, my children get to their feet and pair off with their other halves. Beau and Bel fall into an easy rhythm while Maisie and Liam play a game of tag at their feet. Nate twirls Milly while Samuel dips Emma, and Rhett and Amelia make out none too discreetly as they sway to the beat.

Stevie grabs Liam’s hand, Maisie’s too, and together the three of them stand in front of the stage and cheer Hank on. He smiles and invites the kids up on stage with him, playing a song I’ve already heard four times today, thanks to the babysitting stint I did for Bel and Beau this morning: “Wheels On The Bus.”

The kids in the crowd go wild, making me smile so hard my face hurts.

Patrick allows me to admire my family from the sidelines until Hank breaks out a Van Morrison cover.

“Care to dance?” Patrick asks, holding out his hand.

I take it and allow him to guide me into the circle of his arms. “I’d love to.”

Patrick and I danced on the night we met more than six months ago. His dancing skills are one of the things that made me fall in love with him. He’s a total natural, guiding me through the grass with ease as he sings along to the song, eyes locked on mine the whole time.

My body warms at his touch, at the way he holds me close. I’ve learned to move with him, and my dress swishes around my legs as I perform the now-familiar steps. The sky has faded to purple now, stars blinking awake. The air is just cool enough to be comfortable, and a breeze ruffles my hair.

Beside us, Milly throws her head back and laughs loud and hard at something Nate’s murmuring in her ear. Hank’s brought Stevie up on stage to play the tambourine, and they share a microphone as the two of them belt out the lyrics to a Rod Stewart song.

A couple years ago, I never would’ve thought a night like this would be possible. Beau had just gotten his CTE diagnosis. Annabel was deep in the throes of postpartum depression. Samuel hated Emma. Not long after, Hank was pretending to date Stevie. Then Rhett discovered he had a child he didn’t know existed. Milly was heartbroken.

I was lonely.

Yet here we all are, the dozen of us dancing and singing and actually enjoying our time together. The resort is thriving, babies are coming, and happiness abounds.

Our story’s not perfect, but it’s ours, and I couldn’t be prouder of how it turned out.

“Hey,” Patrick says, giving my hand a squeeze. “You all right?”

Heavens, I’m crying. “They’re happy tears, I promise.”

He grins. “The sex is that good, huh?”

“It’s that good, yes,” I say, laughing. “I’d just always hoped for a happy ending. But I guess part of me didn’t believe it was possible.”

Patrick’s expression softens. “Are you? Happy?”

“The happiest.”

“Good. Because I fucking love you, June Beauregard, and I have no plans to let you go anytime soon.”

I’m laughing and crying all at once. “I love you too. And I’m in love with my life.”

“The most important love of all.”

We dance until it’s dark and the little ones are asleep on the blankets.

And then Patrick and I do an altogether different kind of dance until it’s light again.