“Dude, what the hell happened to your house?” Beau asks, tearing into a wrap as he glances at the mess . . . everywhere.
Hank sips his coffee, flinching when he finds it too hot. “Long story.”
“Aw, yeah, y’all boned all over the place, didn’t you?” Rhett asks.
June rolls her eyes. “Please, everyone, it’s not even nine o’clock yet. Don’t make me get the spoon.”
“I’ll send housekeeping to come clean it up,” Beau says.
“Don’t,” Hank replies a little too quickly. “I got it.”
Beau nods appreciatively. “I’m proud of you, brother. Mostly because you brought Stevie to Blue Mountain. If you can’t tell, Stevie, we’re a little obsessed with you.”
“A little?” Annabel grins at me, the skin around her eyes crinkling warmly. “Try a lot. Hank, you done good.”
He clears his throat. “I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the casino that night, no doubt about it.”
I manage a queasy smile, and a lump forms in my throat. “I’m, um, the lucky one because I got to meet all of you.”
“You say that like this is a one-time thing.” Milly furrows her brow. “You’re coming back, right?”
“Of course.” The words pop out of my mouth too easily. “How could I not? You’ve been nothing but wonderful to me. I appreciate your kindness.”
“And I appreciate your beer,” Samuel replies. “You know, we’ve kicked around the idea of opening up a brewery on the resort. Maybe you could allow us to pick your brain on the business? We’ll pay you for your time, of course.”
I will the ground to crack open and swallow me whole. I feel Hank’s gaze on me, but I can’t look at him. I’m worried the truth will burst out, or I’ll burst into tears.
The reality of the situation dawns on me: this pretend lovers thing will go down as one of my biggest regrets. It was a dumb fucking idea, and I should’ve never agreed to it. How could I not think about all the people we’d hurt? How could I not have realized I’d leave Hank to deal with the fallout on his own?
I close my eyes for a moment, telling myself that Hank and I had good intentions. He wants to see his brother happy. I want to see my business grow. I truly believed that what we were doing would be harmless at best, silly at worst.
I had no idea it would go down like this.
I had no idea I could catch such intense feelings for someone and their family in such a short span of time.
“No doubt it’ll be awesome,” I say. And because talking business always makes me feel better: “While we’re on the subject, I spoke to my graphic designer, who handles all of Lady Luck’s swag. Your extra goodies are on their way.”
Only talking about my brewery makes me feel worse. Go figure. The whole fucking world is upside down right now.
“Thank you kindly,” Beau says.
A beat of silence settles on the room as everyone—well, except Hank and I—chows down on their breakfasts. A cell phone rings and is promptly silenced. Rhett hands his mama a napkin when she spills some chutney on her lap. Maisie nearly bites Beau’s fingers off as he feeds her chunks of scrambled egg and sweet potato.
“We’ve got news,” Samuel says at last, cutting a glance at Emma.
Milly’s brows shoot up, and she pauses mid-bite. “Y’all set a date!”
“Jesus Christ, Milly, do you have to ruin every surprise?” Samuel shoots back. But he’s smiling. This big, stupid, goofy thing that makes my stomach clench.
I want that kind of smile for Hank. I want him to have that news.
I look at him. He’s looking at Samuel. Hank’s eyes are happy. But that muscle in his jaw jumps as though he’s clenching his teeth.
It has nothing to do with the date. I believe Hank when he says he’s over Emma, and I know he’s genuinely happy for them.
No. I think it’s got to do with the bittersweetness of the moment. Hank did and didn’t get what he wanted. Win: Samuel and Emma getting married. Lose: Hank not getting married.
He didn’t even get the girl.
I don’t think that’s what he set out wanting. He didn’t deceive me. When he called a couple of weeks ago—was that really only a couple of weeks ago?—he wanted a fake relationship, and he wanted to fuck.
But somewhere along the way, he began to want more.
Maybe that’s where I went wrong, not pulling the plug earlier. Because I knew what was happening even though Hank assured me everything was okay.
Then again, what was I supposed to do? Bolt and leave Hank hanging? We were in too deep by then. And now we’ve inadvertently created a clusterfuck.
“June twenty-ninth,” Emma says. “Hope everyone can make it.”
Milly drops her wrap and grabs a napkin, tapping on her phone to bring the screen to life. “Wow. Okay. Doesn’t give us a ton of time—”