tiptoes and kiss him again.
I can’t. We can’t.
But Lord, if you wanted to make a new mom fall in love, this is how you’d do it.
“Hopefully the shit pile will start to diminish soon,” I say, curling my fingers around my upper arms. Squeezing hard. “Doc told me the meds take a few weeks to really kick in, but she also said some of her patients start seeing a difference—albeit a small one—a week in.”
Beau glances down at my hands and frowns, like he can tell I’m struggling not to reach for him. How is the crackle of energy between our bodies not driving him crazy?
Or is it, and he’s just better at controlling it? Compartmentalizing it all?
“Give it time, Bel. Take care of yourself in the interim. We’ve got lots of great stuff to do at the resort. Fishing, horseback riding, hiking. I know you hate guns, but we’ve got one hell of a clay-shooting program. Then there’s yoga, and the pools, of course. Some cooking courses…”
Samuel’s words from earlier float across my thoughts. Take advantage of everything we have to offer.
Beau’s happier when he’s with you.
Then Beau’s words: What if it’s our last time together like this?
The idea takes sudden shape. My stomach leaps, the brick there all but forgotten.
“Do it with me.”
“What?” he arches a brow.
“Everything you just said. Let’s do it together. All of it. If life as we know it really is ending like you think it is, then let’s live it up. It’ll help me pass the time until the meds kick in, and it will help keep your mind busy and your body engaged. That has to be good for what’s going on inside your head.”
Beau shifts on his feet. “I have to work.”
“No you don’t. You have two hundred employees at your beck and call, remember?”
He tilts his head. Shoots me a look. “Why you gotta be so goddamn smart?”
“C’mon. Show off those country boy skills. I know you’ve got ’em.”
Eyes on my face, Beau chews on the inside of his lip.
“You sure?” he says at last.
What he’s really asking: are you sure we can do this without getting hurt? Without us getting deeper into the weeds?
“Yup,” I say. Even though I don’t feel very sure at all.
Whatever. Maybe getting romantically involved with Beau isn’t worth the risk. But spending time together?
That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Because at the end of the day, I love Beau as a friend, and I know he loves me, too.
Chapter Fourteen
Beau
Sunday night supper.
It’s been a family tradition for as long as I can remember. Growing up, we sat down to dinner every night. As we got older and life got busier, family dinners happened less often. But now that we’re all back together on the farm—well, everyone except Rhett—I make it a point to gather everyone on Sunday nights.
It’s my favorite time of the week, hands down.
My family may not agree on everything, but we all love to eat. Samuel cooks and selects the wine. Milly does dessert and decor. Hank provides the music, Mama the family china and silver. When Rhett’s around, he brings some girl none of us like. And I provide the table itself, a huge antique slab of oak that was part of the original farmhouse my ancestors built on this property back in the 1700s.
Tonight, my dining room is lively as ever. Acoustic Dave Grohl playing in the background, candles lit. A small but insanely beautiful cake, hummingbird with cream cheese frosting, judging by the crumbled pecans on top, is on the sideboard.
We’re gathered around the table: me, Mama, Milly, Hank, and Samuel. I wanted to invite Annabel, her mama, and the baby, too, but considering they’re tonight’s topic of conversation, I thought I’d hold off until next week’s supper.
Part of me hopes Bel stays that long and then some.
Another part, the rational one, hopes she doesn’t.
There’s a big old pot of rice pilau in front of us. It’s an old family recipe, passed down from generation to generation, along with the cast-iron pot Samuel cooks it in. Basically, it’s a Southern take on risotto; you can put pretty much anything in it. Tonight, it’s loaded with brisket, plenty of bacon and butter (because this is the South), Carolina gold rice, and green veggies from our garden. Okra. Asparagus. Green onion.
Add in the clean, cool Italian Arneis wine Samuel’s paired it with, and Lordy, I’m tempted to do some kinda murder on my usual diet.
Delicious doesn’t even begin to