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“Your sister,” he says, sliding his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “I really admire her.”

“She’s something special,” I say.

Nate scuffs his booted foot against the grass. Looks down. It hits me that he’s nervous.

“You and me, I know we don’t get along,” he begins.

“Not for lack of trying on my part. This is ridiculous, you and your family holding a grudge against us for God knows what infraction committed by God knows what ancestor.”

“I know.” He looks up, looks me in the eye. “That’s my fault, and I’m sorry.”

I scoff. Can’t help it. “Really? That’s a total one-eighty from the last time we talked.”

“I know.” Nate’s a serious man, and he’s being serious now. “Look, I’m just gonna come out with it. I’d like your permission to date Milly. We’ve been in touch recently—well, she reached out to me, and, uh, things kinda developed from there. But we’ve been talking, and I really do enjoy her conversation.”

I narrow my eyes. So that’s who Milly’s been texting with. Sexting. Whatever.

Lord above. It’s so absurd it might as well be a plotline from a soap opera.

“You pullin’ my chain?”

“I’m serious, Beau. I know it sounds crazy. But there it is.”

I chew on my bottom lip as I search his face. “Even if I said yes, you’d have to convince Milly. I know better than to speak for my sister, but I get the feeling she wouldn’t be interested. In fact, I think she’d probably kick your ass to the curb.”

“I came to you as a courtesy.”

“As much as I appreciate that, I can’t speak for my sister. And to be honest—if you really wanna end all this drama for good, maybe dating Milly isn’t the best place to start. That’s how the whole damn thing began how many hundreds of years ago.”

He tilts back his head and glances up at the sky, like he’s gathering himself. Gathering patience.

“You’re not wrong.” He looks at me. “But Beau—I mean this, I do. I’d like to try to make her happy.”

Someone is waving to me from the pavilion. One of our bartenders, probably with a question or a crisis. Either way, I’m needed.

“Look,” I say. “I want Millie to be happy. It’s what she deserves. If you really mean what you say, then...actually, can we talk about this later? I have to go.”

Without waiting for a reply, I start walking. I’m trying to be a better man here. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take perverse pleasure in imagining my sister reading this guy the riot act.

Nate hesitates for a beat, then jogs to catch up to me.

“Wait, Beau. There’s something else I want to tell you.”

“Something else?” I keep walking. “Hell, Kingsley, you’re full of surprises tonight.”

“It’s about your daddy.”

My feet start to slow. I glance around to make sure no one’s in earshot.

“Speak,” I snap.

“So my dad—he’s a tough man. He and I have grown apart over the years. He hasn’t been doing well recently, though, so I’ve been trying to reach out. Right what went wrong between us before it’s too late.”

I raise a brow.

Nate raises a shoulder. “It’s time, don’t you think, for us to start being open with each other?”

I honestly don’t know what to say to that. “I want you to be straight with me. Is this all some kind of trick?”

“I swear it’s the truth.” Nate holds up his hands. “Pop’s been telling me stuff lately. Things from the past that he’s never talked about before. Like how no one realized how sick your daddy was. And how he came down to the distillery right before he died.”

My heart starts to pound.

“Pop was up in arms because a Beauregard hadn’t come to our side of the mountain in—hell, decades. You know it was a line nobody crossed. But your daddy, people didn’t understand what was going on with him. So Pop stuck a shotgun into John Riley’s chest and told him to get gone.”

My hands, they’re shaking now. I try to hide it by running them through my hair.

So much for the product I put in it. I was going for a James Bond debonair look. No doubt I’ve gone full-on Green Day Billie Joe.

This day. What the fuck?

“My dad expected him to pull some shit like he usually did, you know? Your daddy could be one hell of a trash talker as he got older. But instead, he got on his knees and asked for our forgiveness.”

My loafers catch in the grass. “He did what?”

That serious look in Nate’s gaze is back. “Apparently, your daddy asked what it would take to end the feud between our families. He said he was sorry for all the things he said in the past, and that he wanted to leave his children a better legacy than the one he inherited. He said some shit like, ‘Name your price, and I’ll pay it. Tell me what I need to do to atone for the things I’ve done, and I’ll do it. Let’s end this fight while we still have time.’ And he held out his hand.”

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