Southern Sinner (North Carolina Highlands 3)

“So you went back! Good for you. Starting something new is always tough. I hope it gets better.”

Finishing his whiskey, he nods. “I hope so too. I like the work, especially now that I’ve promoted my old assistant, Gregory, to be my right-hand man. And it’s nice being around my family again. With Emma and Bel on board, we’re taking Blue Mountain to the next level, and it’s exciting to be part of that. I just don’t wanna drown in it. I want to have my life at the farm and my life here.” He circles his hand between us. “Behind closed doors.”

“I want that too,” I say softly. “And I’m down with your plan. I do worry we’ll never feel settled, going back and forth. And it will be hard not to keep score.”

“I’m aware,” he says, and I wonder if there’s anything sexier than a man who really is as acutely aware as Hank. “But let’s be real, I have the means to make travel between here and there super convenient. And no, you will not be flying commercial ever again.”

“You do love to brag about your jet.”

“Honey, I’m famous. Let me flaunt it.”

His cockiness is turning me on. It’s becoming more and more difficult to focus.

“But really,” I say. “How lucky are we that we have access to all these incredible conveniences?”

“We’re blessed, that’s for damn sure. I joke around a lot, but you gotta know I don’t take privileges like private jets for granted.”

I nod, grinning. “I know. As I said, it won’t be easy. But we have comforts at our fingertips that a lot of people don’t.”

“I live to keep you comfortable,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.

“What about long-term, though?” I manage. “I know you want to put down roots here.”

He shrugs. “I won’t lie, I’d always thought I’d end up close to family. But Nashville’s not far. It’s still in the South. Still got good food and hot women.”

“So you’d be willing to consider a move there?”

“I would. If you’d be open-minded about moving here one day too. One or both of us could commute. And hey, who’s not to say that changes every few years? Again, let’s make it up as we go.”

Here it is. The surrender.

I’ve got more whiskey in my glass, but I want to be fully present at this moment. I want to experience the fear and the excitement. I want to remember the moment I accept the fact that I don’t know what happens next, and that’s okay.

There is no safety net.

I’m putting myself in the hands of the universe, and I have to trust I’ll be taken care of. Privileged psychobabble? Maybe. But what choice do I have? I’m in love. I want to be with this man. I can’t torture us anymore with what-ifs.

Either I trust and I stay, or I doubt and I go.

I squeeze his hand. “I would consider a move here someday, yeah.”

His face lights up, and so does the stuff inside my chest.

“Thank you,” he says, bringing our joined hands to his lips. He brushes them against my knuckles. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But we can do this. I’ll work my ass off to make you happy, honey. You have my word on that.”

The butterflies tickle my sides.

“I promise to try my best to make you happy too.”

He grins, dimple popping. “Now that we have that settled, I’m taking you to bed. I have a feeling make-up sex with you ain’t gonna suck.”

My pussy clenches. I want make-up sex, so badly.

But there’s still one thing we have to cover.

“What about your family?” I ask, swallowing what’s left of my drink before setting the tumbler on the edge of the fireplace.

Hank’s grin fades. “What about them?”

“We have to come clean. About the fake dating stuff.”

“Do we?”

He’s joking, but I still say, “Yep.”

“I know.” Looking away, he runs a hand over his head with a sigh. “I’ve felt like shit about it all week. But let’s . . . can you give me some time? Lemme think about how I wanna do it.”

“We can both think about how we’ll do it.”

He lifts a brow. “You don’t have to. It was my idea.”

“But I had a starring role.”

He hesitates, searching my eyes. And after a few beats, he says, “Thank you.”

My pulse skips a beat. “But you don’t think they’ll respond well?”

“Honestly?” He runs a hand over his head again. “Yeah, Samuel won’t like hearing what I have to say. Beau’ll call me out for sure. And Milly? Christ, I don’t even wanna think about what she’ll do.”

I make a face. He’s right.

“Short-term, it’s gonna suck,” I say. “Long-term, it’s definitely the right call.”

He nods. “I know,” he says, looking at me. “Let’s think about that tomorrow. Tonight . . .”