Southern Hotshot (North Carolina Highlands 2)

There’s a high-pitched scream coming from the back of the house. Someone in the dining room to my right is calling someone else a stupid shithead.

The homey smell of a meal in the oven is everywhere. My stomach rumbles. I’m hungry.

Per Samuel’s request, I’ve let myself into Beau’s house. Bottle of wine in hand—I brought the Riesling that knocked Samuel on his ass—I make my way inside.

The scream gets louder. There’s a bang. A shout.

I smooth back my hair and wonder for the eightieth time if this was a bad idea. I need to see Samuel outside work like I need a hole in my head. But how could I say no when he showed up at my door with a feast in his hands and this contrition in his eyes that was so sheepish and shy it had to be genuine?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad as hell at him for what he did. I’m still hurt by the things he said. But I snuck a taste of the short ribs and cornbread, and let me just say his apology is definitely on the right track.

I also really do want to get to know the Beauregards. I hope they’ll be my employers for a long time to come, so getting in a little face time can’t hurt.

“Emma!” Milly rounds a corner and wraps me in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. When Samuel told us he invited you—”

“We all nearly shit a brick because we were so surprised,” Hank adds, appearing at his sister’s side. “Hey, Emma. We’re really, really glad you came. I’ll take your jacket.”

An older woman with Samuel’s blue eyes hands me a rocks glass. “And I’ll give you a cocktail, just because. It’s Samuel’s whiskey sour. Welcome, Emma. I’m June Beauregard. You wouldn’t know it from their dirty mouths and less-than-stellar manners, but these are my children. I tried, I really did.”

I smile, a rush of warmth flaring to life in my cheeks even as the chill of the glass seeps through my palm. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Beauregard. Thanks for the cocktail, and for having me. Judging by the work your kids have done on Blue Mountain Farm, I’d say you did a pretty solid job raising them.”

“We’ll see if you feel that way after supper.” She tilts her head. “Come on back to the porch. Everyone’s here. And please, call me June.”

It’s all I can do not to gawk at Beau’s house as we pass through it. It’s just as impressive as Samuel’s, only on a smaller scale. It’s tastefully rustic and beautifully furnished with shiplap walls, beamed ceilings, and a curated collection of art that had to have cost more than what I’ve made in the past decade.

I’ve been around wealth before. But the Beauregards are a whole new level of loaded.

It’s the view that’s the real star of Beau’s house. When I step out onto the massive back porch, the breath leaves my lungs. The house is set on top of a ridge, affording it a sweeping view of the mountains beyond. Purple peaks and green valleys undulate against a backdrop of fiery sunset. The sky is spotless and the air is crisp, and I take it all in, reminding myself that while life may be a bit of a clusterfuck right now, at least I have this.

This is where I get to come to work every day.

The porch spans the length of the house. A fire crackles merrily in the gigantic fireplace at one end, the scent of burning logs about as cozy as it gets. I scan the faces of the people who sit by the fire in rocking chairs and on a sleek sectional sofa. My heart falls when I don’t see Samuel.

I say hello to Rhett. He’s got the Beauregard blue eyes and biceps, and he’s got Samuel’s swagger.

I shouldn’t like that about him. But I do.

“Emma!” Beau smiles when he sees me and gets up from his seat. A tiny baby is nestled in the cradle of his arm. “Not gonna lie, I half expected you to be on your way back to Asheville by now. I’m glad—and relieved, so damn relieved—you’ve stayed.”

“I’m glad too.” I grin at the baby. “And how is Miss Maisie doing today?”

Annabel sidles up to Beau, resting her head on his shoulder. He turns his head and presses a kiss to her temple. “She slept nine hours last night, so we’re all happy campers today. It’s great to see you, Emma. Work going okay?”

I met Annabel and Maisie when they recently dined at the restaurant. I know she and Beau call each other friends, but judging by the way Beau’s looking at her, hearts practically popping out of his eyes, I’m guessing they’re more than that.

My grin tightens. “Work is going well, thanks. Samuel and I had our first event together yesterday, and I’m really proud of how it turned out.”