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The place is breathtaking, and it’s a statement of power if there ever was one.
I get it, I mentally tell Samuel. You win. For the love of God, please bury me in an unmarked grave on this property so my loved ones don’t have to undergo the trauma of identifying my mutilated body.
I also beg the universe not to let my dad find out I’m here. He’s a sneaky motherfucker, and he always seems to know what I’m up to before I know it myself. If I were a paranoid man, I’d say he’s following me.
It’s an insane idea, but I still glance over my shoulder as Milly and I mount the last step.
“Everything all right?” she asks, forehead creased.
“Yup.” I turn back to her with a tight smile. “I’m about to walk into the Capulet mansion, only without a disguise, and in this version of the story I have no Mercutio to cover my back. Oh, and Juliet has four brothers who beat up other dudes for a living.”
She tilts her head, pursing her lips. “That story had a happy ending, right?”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Well, most of the characters die gruesome deaths, so . . .”
“So you’re saying we should enjoy ourselves then.” Milly grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “You’re going to be fine. Only one of my high school boyfriends disappeared after meeting my family.”
“They ever find his body?”
She wags her eyebrows. “Still missing.”
I take a fortifying breath. The air is tinged with the scent of wood smoke, so Samuel must already be roasting the oysters out back. “Just promise me your brothers will hide mine as well as they hid his. I’d hate for Silas to be traumatized.”
“I promise.”
I’m surprised—scared—when Milly doesn’t knock. She just opens the door and walks on in, pulling me along with her.
If Milly’s this close with her brothers, they gotta know how badly I treated her before. They gotta know she was crushed after I left.
I’d hate anyone who did that to Silas.
I don’t have time to panic, though, because suddenly we’re in the biggest, most tricked-out kitchen I’ve ever seen. It’s got two massive islands and a fancy French range that probably cost more than my entire house. It smells freaking delicious in here, like mulled cider and something flaky and buttery baking in the oven.
The room is swarming with Beauregards.
I’ve been up to Blue Mountain Farm many times to make deliveries from the distillery, so I recognize everyone. They don’t realize we’ve arrived for a beat, and everyone goes about their business like we’re not about to drop a bomb on their party. Samuel’s dressed in a ridiculous checkered Gucci sweatsuit. He stands at the oven beside Mrs. Beauregard, the two of them smiling as they peer into a pot of what I can only assume is gravy, judging by the whisk Samuel holds in his hand.
Beau’s sitting on a stool at one of the islands, and he’s got a beautiful little girl on his lap who looks just like the woman standing at his side. Rhett and Hank are standing in front of the refrigerator, a toddler on Rhett’s hip and a tallboy can of fancy-looking beer in Hank’s hand.
Christmas music plays in the background. I can barely pick it out over the din of voices and kids screaming and the clank of pots as a gorgeous brunette washes them in the sink.
It’s pure chaos, but that chaos radiates a warmth that’s completely alien to me.
I can’t stop staring. The whole thing—the people, the music, the food—is compelling in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
Mrs. Beauregard is the first to notice us.
Her face lights up as she scurries over. She’s adorable, practically a carbon copy of Milly from the blond hair to the petite frame. “Milly! Nate! Welcome! Sorry for the mess and the noise, but this is what happens when your fifty kids start having kids of their own.”
“Mom,” Milly says, glancing up at me. My heart squeezes at the pride and excitement in her eyes. “I know y’all have seen each other around, but I want to formally introduce the two of you. This is Nate. Nate, this is my mom.”
I pass the Appalachian Red to my left hand so I can hold out my right. “Mrs. Beauregard, it’s so nice—”
“Please, call me June. I’m thrilled to officially meet you. I’m a hugger, by the way.” She goes up on her toes and wraps me in a hug. For a moment, I just stand there like an idiot, too taken aback to even blink. The kitchen suddenly goes quiet.
June smells like roses and dryer sheets. She reminds me of my mom.
My heart squeezes again. “June, thank you for having me.”
“Come on in,” she says, releasing me from the hug so she can loop her arm through my own. “I know you’ve already met most of this crew, but I’ll reintroduce you to everyone, just in case.” She leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “If anyone misbehaves, you just tell me, and I’ll administer the attitude adjustment they need, all right?”
