He holds up his glass. “If you’ll have me, yes. What changed your mind?”
“Lindsey was actually a big part of it. We talked for a while last night, and I realized I was trying to build this perfect career. But like the perfect life, it doesn’t exist. The dream is still there. The dream of enjoying my work and earning enough money to live the life I want. But maybe the dream is messy, and maybe it’s never going to look the way I thought it would. I’ll never know everything there is to know about wine or success or money. I’ll never know everything there is to know about myself.” I move across the kitchen to stand in front of him. “One thing I do know? I’ve got a long road ahead of me, and there’s no one I’d rather travel it with than you.”
He searches my eyes. “I want to be on the road with you, every damn day. And, shamelessly, I really, really want you to be here for John and Celeste’s wedding. I’m already giddy about crushing that event with you. But that still leaves your concerns about your reputation. The staff—aren’t you worried what they’ll think?”
“I still am. But if we can figure out a way to work together after you basically froze me out, I think we can come up with a plan to move forward in our careers while maintaining the respect of our employees.”
His lips twitch. “If you think it can be done, then yeah—yeah, it’ll get done.”
“You have that much faith in me,” I say.
“You say that as a statement and not a question, and that, baby”—he leans down and nudges his nose against my throat—“is one of the five thousand reasons I love you.”
I unfurl my fingers into his hair. Give it a tug. He groans. I grin. “I want to be cybering with you until I’m shuffling around using that walker you were talking about.”
He goes still. “You mean that?”
“I do. If I can figure it out, I want to cyber with you while I’m shuffling.”
“Think we can do it one handed? The shuffling?”
I shrug. “I’m willing to try.”
His eyes get serious. “Me too. And hey, maybe that’s all we’re gonna need then, and that’s all we need right now. A willingness to try.”
“I love that idea.” I tilt my chin and kiss his mouth. “I love you.”
“Would you be willing to try to think about moving in with me?”
I set down my glass on the counter and slide my hands onto his waist. “I don’t need to think about that. Yes. Yes, I’d love to move in with you, Samuel Beauregard.”
“Good. ’Cause I’d love to cook for you every night, Emma Crawford. No more protein bars.”
I laugh. “No more protein bars.”
Samuel kisses me, the taste of his mouth and the depth of his desire for me turning me inside out. Just like he did that first time, he holds nothing back. He drinks me in with slow, deep sips that say as plainly as words could that he wants me and only me, and that this is the first kiss of the rest of our lives.
My hand is halfway down his jeans when a cacophony of voices burst into the kitchen.
“Emma, are you groping my brother?”
“Oh yeah, she’s definitely groping him. Mama, get over here, I gotta cover your eyes.”
“Look how freaking adorable they are together. I hope this means Emma’s decided to stay?”
That last one is Milly. I turn around, discreetly blocking Samuel’s very obvious erection while I grin at the Beauregard family.
Everyone’s here: Beau, who’s covering June’s eyes, and Annabel and Maisie. Rhett, Milly, and yes, Hank too. His smile is more subdued than usual, and his eyes are a little red. But he is smiling. And that’s something.
That’s a start.
A willingness to try.
“I’m staying,” I say, and I’m immediately wrapped into four tight hugs. Five if you count Maisie’s tap on my cheek. My sister magically appears and hugs me too before refilling her wineglass.
Samuel also gets a hug from everyone but Hank. He hangs back, busying himself with the grocery bags June brought over.
“I’m so glad,” Beau says, meeting my eyes. “And so sorry, Emma. You know I told Samuel not to lay a finger on you.”
“Well.” I glance up at Samuel. “I was the one who laid a finger on him first, so…”
“So yeah, she started it,” Samuel says, still smiling. I can tell by the way his expression softens that he wants to kiss me, but he’s holding back. For Hank, I realize. He’s fine being with me while Hank is around, but it’d be pretty cruel to rub it in his face with PDA.
My heart is so swollen and so full I’m worried it’ll burst. There’s a lot of hurt in this room. But there’s also a lot of love. And I’d like to think at the end of the day, love wins.
I hope love always wins in this house.
Our house.
As loud and unafraid as the Beauregards can be, they do know how to read a room, and they herd out onto the screened porch, leaving Hank, Samuel, and me alone in the kitchen.
Samuel holds out a hand to his brother. Hank takes it without hesitation.
“Glad you came, brother,” Samuel says.
Hank nods. “Thanks for having me.” He glances in my direction. “Thanks for giving my brother another shot, Emma. Thanks for giving me another shot. I want to apologize again for kissing you. It was a stupid, hurtful move, and I’m sorry.” He looks back up at Samuel. “I’m leaving Blue Mountain.”
My stomach does a backflip. “Hank—”
“It was my decision. And it’s only temporary. I needed a break before you got here, Emma. Doing what I did”—he shakes his head and looks at his feet—“just proves my head isn’t screwed on straight. I gotta fix that, and I think some time away will help me get there.”
I look at Samuel. Samuel looks at me.
“If that’s what you think is best, then I wholeheartedly support you,” I say, turning back to Hank. “You’ll let us know if you need anything?”
“I will,” he replies, and the emphatic way he says it makes me believe him.
The alarm on Samuel’s phone goes off, and less than a minute later, the rest of the Beauregards reappear in the kitchen. Samuel pulls a gigantic beef tenderloin out of the oven—“Look at that beautiful herb crust. Damn I’m good”—while I decant a couple of bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon. Hank grabs a pair of potholders and lifts a pot of mashed potatoes off the range, setting it on the dining room table. Maisie pulls Rhett’s hair, and June, Milly, and Lindsey gawk over the antique silverware Milly brought before setting it on the table too. Annabel slides a spoon into a dish of squash gratin, biting her lip when Beau presses a quick kiss to the back of her neck.
“You.” Samuel points at me. “Fill your wineglass and sit your ass down at the table. You’re our honored guest, so no more working, you hear?”
I smile. “You gonna make me?”
“Y’all really are adorable, but you’re also kinda dirty,” Milly says. “It’s gross, but awesome.”
Samuel meets my eyes. “Milly, you got no idea. In the bedroom, in the shower, on the internet…”
“Eww, can you not please?” Beau asks. “Maisie’s taking a mental note of every damn word you’re saying. How much you wanna bet her first sentence is gonna be, ‘Uncle Samuel and Aunt Emma get dirty on the internet’? I’ll disown all y’all, I will.”