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“Milly, sweetheart, how about we congratulate the couple first?” June says, nudging her daughter with her elbow.
“Didn’t we congratulate these two all weekend?” Phone in one hand, Milly waves June away with the other. “Congrats. Now let’s talk bands.”
Beau laughs, and Annabel goes to hug Emma.
I watch, feeling increasingly nauseous, as Hank extends his hand to Samuel. As they hug and pound each other’s backs. As Hank hugs Emma, murmuring something in her ear that makes her smile widen.
Then Emma hugs me. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For taking such great care of Hank. We’ve been worried about him. I’m glad he’s found someone who’s as amazing as he is.”
The lump in my throat swells, making my whole head ache.
“Babies will be welcome,” Samuel says, nodding at Maisie.
Emma looks at me. “So are significant others. Obviously.”
“I’m assuming the best wine in the world will be served?” Beau asks.
Samuel wraps an arm around Emma’s waist. “Only the best for my stuck-up sommelier.”
“Hey.” She elbows him. “You’re the one with five cars, forty watches, and an Iron Man-themed wine cellar. If anyone deserves to be called a snob, it’s you.”
“I have fifty-seven watches, thank you very much.” Samuel sniffs. “And I’m only a snob because you’ve rubbed off on me.”
“Please, for the love of God, do not make any rubbing jokes,” Beau warns.
I look at Hank. Hank looks at me.
Too late.
Because he can read me like a book, he grabs my hand underneath the island. We’re sitting on a pair of stools together, our uneaten wraps on the pristine Herend china in front of us. His grip is warm and reassuring, and it makes me feel the tiniest bit better.
“So,” June says, wiping her hands on a napkin, “when will we be seeing you again, Stevie?”
Hank scoffs. “Mama, I love you dearly, but that’s a loaded—”
“It’s a good question,” Milly says, eyes on me. She crosses her arms. “Look at the two of you with your sad puppy dog eyes. Why so glum after a great weekend?”
Beau rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Milly, that’s none of your beeswax.”
“But it does make sense why they’d be bummed,” Samuel says. “No one likes leaving.”
“I know just how awful leaving can be.” Annabel gives Beau a meaningful look. “Remember that?”
Beau runs a hand through his hair. “Do I remember the biggest fuckup of my life? Letting you walk away? Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Language, son,” June says.
Oh God, I’m going to puke. Not because Annabel and Beau are so cute together it’s almost gross. But because I’m imagining Hank thinking to himself, hey, I’m not going to make that mistake.
He’s not going to let me walk away.
“We’ll see how things shake out,” Hank answers for me. “Y’all are forgetting Stevie’s kind of a big deal back in Nashville. CEO of a company. She can’t just up and leave whenever she wants.”
“Good thing you’re unemployed at the moment,” Rhett shoots back. “Why don’t you go back to Nashville with her?”
I look up to see the two of them exchange a heated glare. My face burns, and my pulse kicks up a notch.
Saliva floods my mouth, and I clutch my napkin with my free hand, ready to bring it to my mouth in case I really do vomit.
“Because.” That muscle in Hank’s jaw jumps again. “I just told you, dipshit. Stevie leads a team of ten. She’s busy as fuck, and she doesn’t need me underfoot all week long.”
June glances around the kitchen. “Where the heck is that spoon?”
Beau claps a hand onto Hank’s shoulder. “I’ve also chatted with Hank here about coming back on board at the resort. If y’all can behave for two seconds, maybe I’d be able to convince him to start this week.”
My shoulders, stiff and achy, loosen.
If what Beau is saying is true, that’s great news. I’d like to think I’ve had a hand in that decision—Hank was picking my brain about creating a more balanced life if he did go back to work at Blue Mountain again. It makes me feel less terrible, knowing I left Hank better off in one respect.
“Really?” Milly says, face lighting up.
Emma claps her hands. “I really, really hope you’re coming back, Hank. Everyone’s missed you.”
“Even you?” Hank nods at Samuel. His tone is playful, teasing.
But Samuel is serious when he answers. “Damn right, I’ve missed you. With Rhett gone, and you gone, and Beau busy being all cute and shit with Bel, I don’t have anyone letting themselves into my house without asking anymore.” He shrugs. “Guess I liked your trespassing more than I let on.”
“Aw,” Bel says. “That’s sweet.”
Hank scratches his head. “Is it?”
His cheeks are pink.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, making me jump. I grab it, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to see my assistant’s name pop up on the screen.
