Southern Sinner (North Carolina Highlands 3)

I laugh. “What, did you think Hank made me up or something?”

“I’m lame, but not that lame,” Hank says, cutting me a glance. He grins. I resist the urge to wink. Who knew having a shared secret could be this much fun?

Emma shakes my hand, then holds up her arms when she gets to Hank. “I’m really, really glad you’re back, Hank. We’ve missed you like crazy.”

“I’ve missed you guys. I’m glad to be home.”

A prick of something that feels suspiciously like jealousy stings as I watch Hank wrap his arms around Emma. She’s beautiful, a petite woman with an athletic build and dirty blond hair.

Whatever, I’m probably just biased. I’m on Hank’s side, even though I don’t know all the nitty-gritty details, and I’m feeling protective of him.

Interestingly, this hug isn’t at all awkward. It’s warm and appropriately timed, and when they release each other, I notice Hank blinks as he steps back, a pair of creases appearing between his eyebrows.

His mouth, though—that almost curves into a disbelieving smile.

“You all right?” I murmur when Emma turns back around to pour us some wine.

Hank gives my ass a playful pinch. “Yeah. I think I—”

“If it isn’t my long lost brother.” One of the blondes, the younger one, saunters in from the dining room. “Where have you been, and why the hell did you keep us waiting so long?”

“Milly!” Hank really smiles this time, tugging her into a tight hug. “Goddamn, I’ve missed you. And I made y’all wait to torture you, clearly. Or make y’all love me again. Like Daddy used to say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Milly pushes her brother back, arms locked on his shoulders. “Or it pisses everybody off. At least you had the decency to come back with this lovely lady. Stevie, I’m glad you’re here, and I’m really glad you’re not a stranger Hank met on the internet.”

“Hey,” Emma says from behind us. “Nothing wrong with strangers you meet on the internet.”

Milly rolls her eyes, even as she grins. “Y’alls’ story about being secret internet sex partners is not appropriate conversation for Sunday supper.”

“Emma and Samuel were secret internet sex partners?” I ask, too stunned—too curious—to be polite and keep my mouth shut.

“Yup,” Samuel replies proudly. “Like a much less wholesome Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.”

Milly lets out a bark of laughter. “Tom Hanks? You wish.” She turns to me, her smile tightening as she extends a hand. “I’m Milly.”

“Stevie,” I say. “Lovely to meet you.”

She studies my face with eyes that aren’t exactly kind. My heart skips a beat. Glancing at Hank, I wonder if he’s sensed it too—the fact that she seems to be suspicious.

But then Hank is slipping an arm around my waist and introducing me to his mom, June, and then to his oldest brother, Beau, and Beau’s wife, Annabel.

“And my goodness, is this Miss Maisie?” Hank holds out his arms to the toddler. She smiles shyly at him. “Y’all, she’s gotten so big! And look at all those teeth!”

It takes a second for her to warm up to him. Bel tells us the baby started getting leery around strangers when she turned one, but after a few minutes, Maisie finally allows her uncle to hold her.

“She’s absolutely beautiful,” I say, glancing at Beau. “How old is she?”

“Fifteen months,” Hank answers, lifting her above his head when she lets him pick her up. “Baby girl is a Scorpio, just like me.”

“Two troublemakers,” June says with a smile, eyes meeting mine. “They keep you on your toes, don’t they?”

“They do,” I reply. “In the best possible way.”

Hank airplanes Maisie around the kitchen, sound effects and everything, biceps rippling against the sleeves of his shirt. She smiles, giggling, the sound infectiously cute. Hank coos between telling her how much he’s missed her and how bad he feels about not being at her birthday party.

I expect him to hand her back to Beau or Annabel. But instead he rests Maisie on his hip and quizzes her on her words. Mama. Dada. More. He tries to get her to say Hank, but she just buries her head in his chest and shakes her head. He kisses her chubby cheek, making a loud smacking noise, and Maisie giggles again.

Lord above, they’re sweet together.

I don’t know Hank all that well. But I have a pair of eyes, so I do know this: he wants what Annabel and Beau have. Hank has family man written all over him. I didn’t see it until now, but the pieces are clicking together. The dad jokes. The big empty house, just waiting to be filled with babies.

It’s not that I don’t want a family or kids. But I realized early on in my marriage families require a huge amount of work—work that fell disproportionately to me.

I was the one always emptying the dishwasher and remembering to take the dog to the vet and having an answer to the dreaded six o’clock what’s for dinner question. I was already drowning in my responsibilities as a wife; how much worse would it get if I became a mother?