she says. “So, at the age of six, he hid his undies, thinking I wouldn’t find out.”
Samuel shrugs. Maisie is asleep on his shoulder. “What? I still hide my dirty undies there. Sometimes, I just get scared shitless.”
“Seriously, dude, you need to stop getting poopy pants drunk,” Rhett says, howling.
Beau slaps the table. “What a shitty thing to do.”
Milly’s rolling her eyes and biting back laughter. “Y’all and the poop jokes. They’re not that funny.”
“They’re not,” June says, wiping the tears from her eyes.
I’m laughing so hard the sides of my torso ache.
By the time we finish dessert, this particularly delicious strawberry strudel type thing, I’m painfully, happily full. Despite working in some of the best restaurants in the Carolinas, I don’t normally eat this well. I don’t have the time or the energy to cook for myself, and Blue Mountain is one of the few places that serves its staff a meal before service.
“Need a ride home?” Hank asks, handing me the pot he just washed.
I’m in the kitchen helping clean up. Again, everyone plays a part. Milly wipes down the counters while Rhett loads the dishwasher. Samuel’s filling dishes with leftovers for everyone to take home with them, and Bel and Beau are using dining room clean up duty as an excuse to make out with each other. Hank washes dishes and I’m drying them. There are people and plates everywhere, but it’s weirdly soothing to be in on the action.
“I’ll take her,” Samuel says.
“That’s okay,” I reply a little too quickly. “I want to pick Hank’s brain anyway about room service stuff.”
It’s not a lie. But the whole truth is I don’t trust myself to be alone with Samuel right now.
I’ve seen so many sides of the man today. Fierce, loving, funny, generous, cocky. Sensual. I’m attracted to the whole package.
But I need to accept that we can only be friends. I need to commit to the fact that another man I can have is interested in meeting me.
With that in mind, I’ll try chalking up my attraction to Samuel to a simple case of shared passions—food, wine, sobre mesa.
There.
Done.
I hope.
Chapter Twenty
Samuel
I give Milly a ride home after supper.
“Why are you following Hank so closely?” She turns her head to look at me. “You’re gonna rear-end him.”
My headlights don’t do shit to illuminate what’s happening in Hank’s vintage Bronco ahead of us. I still try to creep closer, thinking if I hit just the right angle, I’ll be able to see what he and Emma are doing. Laughing? Touching?
So what if they are? But they wouldn’t be, would they, because Emma doesn’t get involved with coworkers.
Then again, she got involved with me.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I hate this jealousy, especially when it’s aimed at my little brother. It’s unworthy of the man I’m trying to become.
“Hello? Earth to Samuel.”
“Sorry.” I blink, easing up on the gas. “There. That better?”
Milly’s looking at me. I look back.
“What?” I ask.
“You and Emma seem to be getting along.”
“What about you and Nate Kingsley? I hear y’all are getting friendly.”
“Stop trying to change the subject. You’ve been happier than usual lately. Since Emma arrived, as a matter of fact. With the exception of right now. Right now, you look kinda…scary.”
“What? No, I don’t.”
“Why are you playing coy?”
“Because.” I let out a sigh. Once again, the truth wins because I’m just too damn tired to keep up with the lies. “I know what you’re getting at, Milly, and it ain’t gonna happen. Me and Emma, I mean.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s what she wants. It’s what I want.” I watch Hank pull off the main road and head up the lane that leads to Emma’s cottage. “And I’m kinda sorta into someone else, anyway.”
“Really?”
The tightness in my chest loosens at the change in subject. I may not know her real name, and I may be having sex with her in a way I’ve never had before, but that somehow feels more straightforward than my relationship with Emma. “Promise not to judge?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Whatever. I met a girl on the internet. We’ve been chatting for a while, and I really like her. I think we’re gonna meet up. Meet in person, I mean.”
I pull up to Milly’s house and put the car in park. She unbuckles her seat belt and leans back against the passenger side door, cutting me a look. “That’s…interesting.”
“Goddammit, Milly, you can judge me, just—I need a sympathetic ear here for a minute.”
“I’m not judging the internet girlfriend thing. I