Southern Seducer (North Carolina Highlands 1)

Yes, the website is bougie AF. But I kinda love it, don’t you? Milly looped me in with her web developer who of course is the best of the best (with the price tag to match). The aerials of the barn and the creek are my favorite.

I am beyond excited for you to see it. The farm has come so far since you saw it last. I had big dreams for this place, but now that we’ve actually broken ground, I can see our plans are going to surpass those dreams.

You keep asking if you can come up here again. I’ll grab you in my car and we can take a nice ride up one day. I really don’t want you to see everything until it’s finished because right now, it’s kind of a disaster. But I’ll let you have an exclusive sneak peek.

The offer for you to be my co-CEO still stands. Although I know how much you’re enjoying Charlotte these days, so I won’t be pushy.

Beau

Chapter Thirty-One

Annabel

Maisie and I pretty much live at Beau’s house from then on out.

We go back to Sugarhill Cottage every so often to grab clothes or something the baby needs.

Mom and Larry have set up their own little love nest over there. Half the time I stop by, they’re nowhere to be found. Occasionally, I’ll hear a thump or something that sounds suspiciously like muffled laughter. I pretend not to hear it and skedaddle as quickly as I can.

But for the most part, we’re shacked up at Beau’s. It’s like my ultimate college fantasy come to life. The two of us playing house in his ridiculous mansion with my baby, who’s started to sleep through the night more often than not.

We shower together. When we don’t, I like to peep Beau behind the glass as he works up a lather. Something about the way he moves gets me going like nothing else.

Why is the way he ducks his head underneath the spray, combing back his hair with his long, thick fingers, so fucking handsome?

It’s like watching a dance. A porn, but, like, a good one. Quality content right here.

We eat good food and have great sex. He helps with the baby, and I help him with work. I draft proposals. Draft emails. Help him crunch numbers on endless spreadsheets, which he rewards by giving me the best head I’ve ever gotten.

We work well together, Beau and I.

The one thing we avoid? Our calendars. I ignore my phone, with the exception of fielding texts and calls from friends like Mandy and Shannon. Content to pretend that, like the end of my leave, it doesn’t exist.

The magic of Blue Mountain makes it easy to live in an alternate universe, where the present is all that matters. Each day is more beautiful than the last. The hills are in full bloom now, a riot of green, and Chef Katie sends over heaps of the most delicious fresh produce from the garden: asparagus, zucchini, fresh peas, English cucumbers.

I cook some nights. Other nights we order in from the restaurant. One night, Mrs. B. comes over to babysit Maisie, and Beau and I belly up to the bar at the main house for mocktails and dinner.

I dutifully take my antidepressants every day.

One morning—who knows what day it is—I go upstairs to get Maisie, and instead of screaming her head off like she usually does first thing, she smiles at me.

Actually smiles, looking like a happy, hilarious little snowman in her sleep suit.

It’s an image I’ll never forget: the way her smile bared her gums and touched her eyes.

Gathering her in my arms for a hug, I felt all squidgy and happy.

Holy shit, I thought to myself. I’m crushing on my baby.

No. I’m falling in love with her. Feels like the biggest, best crush of my life. I can’t wait to see her when she wakes up. I crave her when she’s sleeping.

We’re sold the same fairy tale over and over again: that, as a mother, you’ll feel this immediate rush of overwhelming love for your baby the second they’re born.

But that’s not how I felt.

I get why people don’t say much about these things. I still feel the sting of shame when I admit, even to myself, that it took me more than four months to fall in love with my baby.

To bond with her.

“I just wish we talked about this stuff more,” I tell Beau one sunny morning. Our daily walks have turned into hikes as the weather’s gotten better, and today, we’re on a trail that winds up the side of a neighboring mountain. The green scent of the pine trees fills the air. “I would’ve felt a hell of a lot less alone if I knew I wasn’t the only one who really didn’t like her baby all that much in the beginning.”