Southern Seducer (North Carolina Highlands 1)

“Aw, honey, I’d love to.” His voice is like gravel. Accent thick. “I’m havin’ a real hard time holding back. But it’s up to me—Bel, it’s up to me to keep you safe and keep you from getting hurt. Let’s sleep on it, all right? I don’t want you to regret anything. Also, isn’t your mama here? I know we’re adults, but I’d still feel weird walking past her to…you know. Go do stuff with you in the bedroom.”

“What kind of stuff?”

His eyes narrow, flashing with heat. “Stuff that ain’t gonna be all that quiet.”

He’s right. My mom, the way my boobs are burning now—it’s not the right time.

“Okay.”

It still sucks when he kisses me one last time—quick, scruffy, and warm—and steps back.

That’s when my eyes catch on movement in the window beside the door.

Speaking of Mom.

“Mom?” I say, my eyes going wide. “Oh my God, are you watching us?”

She’s peeking through the curtains. When I call her name, she does this little shrug thing, eyebrows popping. A silent “maybe” that really means Yes, I was definitely intruding on your private moment, and no, I’m not sorry about it.

Another figure appears in the window beside her. Beau and I both lean forward to get a better look.

“Larry?” Beau asks. “Is that you?”

Larry, aka 1995 Robert Redford, smiles and waves.

“What the hell is happening?” I ask. “Are Larry and my mom—”

“Hanging out? Yep.” Beau waves back. “Probably doing more than that, judging by the way Larry’s smiling.”

“Please. Please don’t go there. I mean, I want my mom to—ew, do that. But I don’t need to hear about it.”

“Totally valid.”

I motion for Mom to leave us alone. With one last pop of her eyebrows, she and Larry disappear, making the curtain dance against the window.

Sighing, I say, “Sorry about that.”

Beau laughs, the sound deep and masculine, and I about die on the spot. “It’s all good. Glad we stopped when we did. How weird would it be if your mama caught me suckin’ on your neck?”

“About as weird as us catching her and Larry hanging out together doing God knows what.”

“Maybe he lured her in.”

“Ha.”

“Used his rod to—”

“Do not finish that thought.”

I look at Beau. He looks back. We’re both grinning.

He slides his hands into his front pockets and sighs a long, low breath. “It’s not right to ask you to bear with me while I work through my shit. I’m asking anyway. You’re my best friend, Annabel, but goddamn, I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.” His eyes move over my face, vulnerability written all over his: brows curved upward, mouth swollen. “Please. Bear with me.”

“Of course.”

He steps forward and puts his hand on my cheek again, arcing a thumb over my skin. I can’t read his expression now. Clouds are moving across his eyes, making him look troubled. Dark.

Hot as hell.

I get the feeling he doesn’t know what to say.

So I say it for him, what he needs to hear.

“I’m not asking for anything beyond what you’re willing to give me. I don’t need promises of forever. Hell, I had a baby by myself in my mid-thirties. If anyone doesn’t need a ring and rainbows, it’s me. I just need you. Whatever that looks like. Fly fishing, pasta making. Sex.”

“Slipped that last one in there.”

I grin. “Subtle, I know. Take all the time you need.”

I grab his hand and give it a quick squeeze, and then I go inside, still shaking from the kiss that branded my mouth, my mind.

Every part of me is his now, which could be a big fucking problem. I’m not all that sure he’ll ever give any part of himself to me.

It’ll be another blow to my self-confidence. I’ll never forget what Ryan said to me when things went downhill in our marriage. I need more than you’re capable of giving. You’re just…you. And, well, I’m not sure that’s enough.

You’re just you. Coming from a man who I thought would be my forever. My future.

Did he ever really love me? Because the way Beau looks at me, especially since I’ve been on the farm, is worlds sweeter than any look Ryan ever sent in my direction.

My marriage didn’t last long, two years from start to finish, and I understand now that Ryan saw me as some kind of trophy. Half of this power couple he’d envisioned. He admired me for my ambition, which I liked, but the further he got in his career, the more obsessed he became with appearances. As his sense of entitlement grew, the spark we had—sexual and otherwise—faded. His attitude grossed me out, even as it broke my heart. And I just didn’t feel valued as a person.

But Beau? Beau makes me feel special. And not for what I can bring to the table. Just for being myself.

Maybe I don’t need Beau’s forever. But deep down, I know I want more than just the bulge in his pants.