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“Wow,” Patrick teases, placing a hand on the small of my back. “All those people really belong to you?”
I grin. “Most days, I can’t believe it either. I’m a lucky mama.”
“Are you saying that because you just got lucky?”
“I am.” I look up at him, my stomach doing a somersault at his handsomeness—mischief in his dark eyes, full mouth curled into a smile. “You’re turning me into a pervert, Mr. Brewer.”
“I refuse to apologize for that, Mrs. Beauregard.”
Maisie sees us and screams with delight, running toward us as fast as her little legs will allow. She’s three now and growing like a weed, but she’ll always be little in my eyes.
“Mimi!” she shouts before she launches herself into my arms.
I pick her up and give her a tight hug. “Hey, honey! You having fun playing with your cousin?”
Liam is making his way toward us as well, sippy cup in one hand and his Pup Pup in the other.
“Hi, Mimi,” he says with a wave.
“Can y’all say hello to Mr. Patrick too?” I ask. “He came to visit Mimi all the way from California.”
Everyone’s met Patrick before, but Liam still stares at my boyfriend like he’s Santa Claus.
Thankfully, Patrick takes it in stride. Laughing, he crouches down and offers Liam a high five, which Liam returns with a grin. “Hello, Liam. Are you going to dance tonight? I hear you love music.”
“He dance with me,” Maisie says.
Patrick looks up at her with a smile. “I think I know who runs this place.”
“Definitely Maisie.” I press a kiss to her chubby cheek. “She’s the boss.”
Maisie smiles too. “I the boss!”
Hiking Maisie onto my hip, we head for the blankets and say hello to everyone. Amelia is pregnant and just starting to get big, so she’s sitting on the blanket beside Rhett, the two of them playing footsie like no one is watching.
“How cute are they?” Milly asks, sidling up to me with a sparkling water in her hand.
I wait for Milly to finish her thought with a sarcastic comment. Instead, she smiles down at her brother and his wife (the two of them eloped in Vegas a couple of months ago), expression soft.
My heart softens too. Nate Kingsley’s brought my daughter’s inner romantic out, and I adore it.
“Almost as cute as us,” Nate says. He loops an arm around Milly’s waist. “How crazy that our babies are due the same day?”
“How exciting.” Patrick shakes Nate’s hand. “I don’t think I’ve congratulated you guys yet. Milly, how are you feeling?”
She puts a hand on her growing bump. “Better now that I’m in the second trimester. The first was rough.”
“The worst part by far,” Annabel says. She’s got a beer in her hand—Stevie’s Hop Girl Summer—and a smile on her face as she takes in Maisie and me. “Trust me when I say it gets so much better.”
I set Maisie down so she can run around with Liam. Patrick and I say hello to everyone else, squeezing in quick hugs before the music begins. Hank’s already up on stage tuning his guitar. Stevie and I chat briefly about the new ad campaign we’re rolling out at the distillery—now that I’m an investor in the spirits industry, she and I have a lot to talk about—and Patrick congratulates Rhett on his retirement from professional football.
“How are you feeling about it?” Patrick asks.
I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. I adore the keen interest he takes in my kids. I try to do the same when I’m with his two kids back in LA.
Rhett lifts a shoulder. “Honestly? Pretty fucking great. I was ready to be done. Will I miss it? Some aspects, yeah. But for the most part, I’m ready to move on to what’s next.” He reaches over and rubs Amelia’s belly. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me by far.”
Amelia rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “What about getting a second chance with me?”
“That’s part of this.” Rhett circles his hand over her stomach. “It all counts, right?”
“If you say so,” Amelia replies with a laugh.
Even Annabel’s mom, Lizzie, and her boyfriend Larry (who just so happens to be a fly fishing instructor here at the Farm) are here. It’s wonderful to see them so happy more than two years after they first got together.
Samuel and Emma are the last to greet us. They’ve been busy setting up the food and beverage stations, which look absolutely gorgeous: cans of craft beer are icing down in silver buckets, bottles of cold white wine sweat in the warm air, and table after table of delicious bites beckon. We’ve got trays of pulled pork with Blue Mountain Farm’s secret vinegar sauce, served with house-made potato buns and coleslaw. Sides of sweet potato fries, kale salad with candied pecans, peaches, and parmesan cheese, and collards cooked with bacon are lined up beside the pork.
I grin. “Most days, I can’t believe it either. I’m a lucky mama.”
“Are you saying that because you just got lucky?”
“I am.” I look up at him, my stomach doing a somersault at his handsomeness—mischief in his dark eyes, full mouth curled into a smile. “You’re turning me into a pervert, Mr. Brewer.”
“I refuse to apologize for that, Mrs. Beauregard.”
Maisie sees us and screams with delight, running toward us as fast as her little legs will allow. She’s three now and growing like a weed, but she’ll always be little in my eyes.
“Mimi!” she shouts before she launches herself into my arms.
I pick her up and give her a tight hug. “Hey, honey! You having fun playing with your cousin?”
Liam is making his way toward us as well, sippy cup in one hand and his Pup Pup in the other.
“Hi, Mimi,” he says with a wave.
“Can y’all say hello to Mr. Patrick too?” I ask. “He came to visit Mimi all the way from California.”
Everyone’s met Patrick before, but Liam still stares at my boyfriend like he’s Santa Claus.
Thankfully, Patrick takes it in stride. Laughing, he crouches down and offers Liam a high five, which Liam returns with a grin. “Hello, Liam. Are you going to dance tonight? I hear you love music.”
“He dance with me,” Maisie says.
Patrick looks up at her with a smile. “I think I know who runs this place.”
“Definitely Maisie.” I press a kiss to her chubby cheek. “She’s the boss.”
Maisie smiles too. “I the boss!”
Hiking Maisie onto my hip, we head for the blankets and say hello to everyone. Amelia is pregnant and just starting to get big, so she’s sitting on the blanket beside Rhett, the two of them playing footsie like no one is watching.
“How cute are they?” Milly asks, sidling up to me with a sparkling water in her hand.
I wait for Milly to finish her thought with a sarcastic comment. Instead, she smiles down at her brother and his wife (the two of them eloped in Vegas a couple of months ago), expression soft.
My heart softens too. Nate Kingsley’s brought my daughter’s inner romantic out, and I adore it.
“Almost as cute as us,” Nate says. He loops an arm around Milly’s waist. “How crazy that our babies are due the same day?”
“How exciting.” Patrick shakes Nate’s hand. “I don’t think I’ve congratulated you guys yet. Milly, how are you feeling?”
She puts a hand on her growing bump. “Better now that I’m in the second trimester. The first was rough.”
“The worst part by far,” Annabel says. She’s got a beer in her hand—Stevie’s Hop Girl Summer—and a smile on her face as she takes in Maisie and me. “Trust me when I say it gets so much better.”
I set Maisie down so she can run around with Liam. Patrick and I say hello to everyone else, squeezing in quick hugs before the music begins. Hank’s already up on stage tuning his guitar. Stevie and I chat briefly about the new ad campaign we’re rolling out at the distillery—now that I’m an investor in the spirits industry, she and I have a lot to talk about—and Patrick congratulates Rhett on his retirement from professional football.
“How are you feeling about it?” Patrick asks.
I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. I adore the keen interest he takes in my kids. I try to do the same when I’m with his two kids back in LA.
Rhett lifts a shoulder. “Honestly? Pretty fucking great. I was ready to be done. Will I miss it? Some aspects, yeah. But for the most part, I’m ready to move on to what’s next.” He reaches over and rubs Amelia’s belly. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me by far.”
Amelia rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “What about getting a second chance with me?”
“That’s part of this.” Rhett circles his hand over her stomach. “It all counts, right?”
“If you say so,” Amelia replies with a laugh.
Even Annabel’s mom, Lizzie, and her boyfriend Larry (who just so happens to be a fly fishing instructor here at the Farm) are here. It’s wonderful to see them so happy more than two years after they first got together.
Samuel and Emma are the last to greet us. They’ve been busy setting up the food and beverage stations, which look absolutely gorgeous: cans of craft beer are icing down in silver buckets, bottles of cold white wine sweat in the warm air, and table after table of delicious bites beckon. We’ve got trays of pulled pork with Blue Mountain Farm’s secret vinegar sauce, served with house-made potato buns and coleslaw. Sides of sweet potato fries, kale salad with candied pecans, peaches, and parmesan cheese, and collards cooked with bacon are lined up beside the pork.
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