Southern Seducer (North Carolina Highlands 1)

“Oh,” I manage, wiping my eye.

Samuel’s brow crinkles. “Aw, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. He’d—Beau, he’d be here if he could, he just…here, lemme give you a hug. I’m sorry.”

I bury my head in his chest and try to breathe and get a grip on my emotions. I have a long drive ahead, my mom and my daughter in the back seat, and I’ve gotta keep it together so I can get us safely home.

“You always do Beau’s dirty work?” I say.

“Yeah,” Samuel admits glumly. “It ain’t easy being his brother.”

It was easy being Beau’s friend.

But being more than that?

“I can relate.”

“You gonna bring that baby back to Blue Mountain? My mama’s been asking.”

I laugh. It takes effort. “Considering how often I think my mom’s going to be back visiting her ‘special friend’—”

“That what she calls Larry?”

“Hilarious, right? And kinda gross.”

“Don’t be a stranger, you hear?”

“Of course.”

“If you need anything, you have my number, all right?”

I pull back and look up at him. “Is it cool if I reach out to you to check up on him? In case he, you know…is too busy to respond to me himself?”

A muscle in Samuel’s jaw tenses. “I’m trying real hard not to throw my brother under the bus right now.”

“Don’t.” I put a hand on his chest. “Let’s—it won’t…”

“Call me. Text. Anytime, Annabel.”

I keep my arms wrapped around his middle. I don’t want to let him go because that means I have to get in my car and leave paradise.

Return to reality without a hug from my best friend. A man who showed more cowardice today than I thought possible.

“Be angry,” Samuel says quietly. “Maybe that’s shit advice, but it’s better than being sad. Be angry so you can get your family home in one piece. Then you can be sad.”

I take a sputtering breath. Stepping back, I let Samuel dab my eyes with the hem of his T-shirt.

“There,” he says. “You’re all set. You got waters for the drive?”

“Yup. Hank brought some over a little while ago.”

“Snacks, too?”

“Chef Katie’s fried chicken nuggets and her homemade ranch. Oh. And root beer. And cookies.”

Samuel walks me to my car. He helps me snap Maisie’s car seat into its base. Then he opens the door for Mama, opens the door for me.

I start the car and roll down my window.

Tears threaten again. I twist off the cap to a root beer bottle and take a vicious swig.

Angry.

I have to remember to be angry.

Samuel ducks his head through the window to glance at all the baby shit stuffed into the trunk. “Lordy, y’all are really packed in there.”

“It’s insane how much stuff you need for one tiny baby.”

“She’s awful cute, though.”

Mom, who’s in the back seat with Maisie, raises her little arm to wave goodbye. “Say thank you very much, Uncle Samuel.”

“I’ll let y’all go. Drive safely. Text me when you’re home?”

It should be Beau saying these things.

Beau putting his big hands on the door one last time to wish us well and wave us off.

Actually, none of this should be happening at all.

I have this terrible feeling in my gut that this is all wrong. I should be staying.

Should I go after Beau? Drive to his office instead of the interstate? Try for the eight-hundredth time to get him to see some sense?

“You okay?” Mom asks.

I blink. The breeze coming in through my open window is blowing my hair into my face.

Rolling up the window, I tuck my hair behind my ears.

You got this.

Be angry.

“You guys okay back there?” I glance in the rearview mirror. My vision is clearing up; things are less blurry.

“We’re fine. Are you?”

I take a deep breath.

Fuck Beau.

What kind of person makes love to you in the morning but refuses to look you in the eye in the afternoon? Knowing how much it’ll hurt you?

A shitty one, that’s what.

“I’ll be all right,” I say. I come to a stop sign, and after checking to make sure no one’s around, I put the car in park. “I’m going to put on some music if that’s okay.”

“Fine by me.”

I scroll through the music library on my phone, knowing exactly what song I’m looking for. It’s been a while since I played it. The last time was when Ryan walked out, I think.

I turn up the volume when “Since U Been Gone” by Kelly Clarkson starts playing.

Putting the car in drive, I glance at the rearview mirror again. Mom is looking at me, the same sympathy in her eyes that I saw in Samuel’s.

But after the first verse, she starts to sing the words.

Her vote of solidarity.

I sing too.

I sing the whole way home.

Only when the baby’s in bed and Mom is gone do I break down. Because even though I made the choice to be a single mom, Beau gave me a taste of the family of my dreams. A delicious, unforgettable taste of what it’s like not to be alone as a parent or as a woman.