Page 70 of One Southern Summer

“We’re just worried about you, sugar.” Cassandra rounded Millie Kay’s desk with her arms outstretched. Wait, was she going to hug him?

“That’s a lot of media attention for our sweet Cole to handle. We’re here to help.”

Wow, okay. What was he, seven? And since when had Cassandra Nelson appointed herself as his protector? Warning bells clanged in his head. Her sweet perfume and pouty pink lipstick both needed to be avoided at all costs. She rubbed his bicep before he took a giant step toward his office. Heat climbed up his neck. He didn’t know whether to break into a run or play dumb, so he went with the latter option and forced a smile. “Appreciate the concern, but I’m doing fine. Millie Kay, please don’t disturb me unless it’s an emergency. I have back-to-back meetings this morning.”

She regarded him with flat-lipped silence. He raised his coffee cup and walked backward toward his office. “Thanks again for your concern. Couldn’t do this without you.”

Taking a fortifying sip of his coffee, he headed into his office and kicked the door shut with his foot. Word was spreading. Splendid. So much for believing that he’d somehow be the exception and when it came to him the nosy people of Camellia would graciously mind their business.

He sat down at his desk, turned on his laptop then unwrapped his breakfast. He took a bite of the lukewarm sandwich, savoring the salty combo of eggs, cheese and bacon on a buttermilk biscuit while he waited for his computer to boot up.

It’s a little late to be worried about my feelings...I told you from the beginning that there were better designers out there and you didn’t listen.

Avery’s declaration had tunneled inside his head and built a fort. That was the problem. She’d been brutally honest, and he’d kept things from her. Plenty of things. And it was getting harder and harder to cling to his own false narrative that he’d made the right choice. Oh, he could keep lying to himself. Keep pretending that all he needed to do was bide his time until the expansion was finished. Deny that he felt anything more than platonic friendship for her. Maribelle’s donation was already in the foundation’s account. If he held on a little bit longer, they’d wrap this thing up and no one would ever be the wiser.

Except the guilt was slowly eating him alive.

He took another sip of coffee then slumped back in his desk chair.

How could he possibly endure being so close to Avery and not tell her the truth? Not just the truth about Nana’s donation but the truth about how he felt? Or was now the time that he finally looked her in the eye and told her that he fell in love with her a long time ago? And that he never stopped loving her. That she had had his heart since he was sixteen years old?

Against his better judgment, he scrolled through social media until he found a post featuring their napkin pledge.

Evidently they were trending. Hashtagcomplicated. Ah, so Millie Kay had been mocking him.

“Awesome,” he grumbled under his breath.

He scrolled a little further, his blood pressure rising. The cheesy GIFs were everywhere. Along with rampant speculation about what Pax and Trey thought of his and Avery’s marriage plans.

He closed out the app then finished his breakfast, quietly mulling his options. What a three-ring circus. Or maybe he was the fool who’d been swept into the most bizarre turn of events ever. If he stepped away now who would Avery have on her side? Sure, she had her family. Harper and Julene had been fantastic, and their mother and Greer completely supportive. Which was ironic given that Cole had taken a bribe from her grandmother and that’s what got him in this mess to begin with. He groaned and tipped his head back then closed his eyes.Lord, I’m officially terrible at being the hero of this story. Please send help before I cause irreparable harm.

She was an absolute hot mess.

“Is my daddy coming yet? Does he have any new toys for me? Why does Hayes get to come?”

Oh, my. Avery gulped past an exasperated groan. “Your daddy will be here any minute, Addison.”

Friday had arrived much too soon. The constant stream of questions made her want to sprint outside and cannonball off the end of the dock. Shed her worries like a cicada molted from its shell. Even though she’d made the arrangements for Pax to take the children for the weekend, she’d underestimated her anxiety over handing them off. She still wasn’t at peace with letting Hayes out of her sight for more than a few hours.

But Pax had been persistent in his requests to spend quality time with both of his kids. He’d sent texts and emails, including a letter of reference from the family Olivia Claire had babysat for last summer. It was the most they’d communicated since they’d separated. Avery had finally agreed to let both kids stay with Pax from noon on Friday until Monday morning.

Hayes swung contentedly in the baby swing she’d set up by Mama’s living room window. He smiled and cooed at the mobile dangling above his head, a happy trio of sea life in shades of blue and turquoise and orange.

Avery folded another bib and tucked it in the side pocket of his diaper bag. He’d finally drunk a whole bottle of formula last night with Julene holding him. Avery had had to go outside because she couldn’t handle the uncertainty of knowing whether he’d eat. What if he went on strike while he was with Pax? What if Addison decided she was miserable and begged to come back to the house?

Addison twirled in circles around the living room, humming a song from an animated movie soundtrack. Avery checked and rechecked the diaper bag. She’d loaded it with plenty of diapers. Pax remembered how to change a diaper, didn’t he? Memories of those early days at home together with Addison crept in. She mentally shook them off. He’d have to figure it out. Diaper cream? Check. Extra pacifier and a teething ring? Yes and yes. She glanced at Hayes again and studied him with a critical eye. Was he teething? He shoved a tiny finger in the side of his mouth and grinned at her.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She kept moving, because if she stopped and thought too much about what was going to happen in a few minutes, she feared she’d melt into a puddle beside the sofa. She lifted the lid on the plastic bin and recounted the diapers. She’d thrown in more wipes, extra clothes, a blanket and a handful of toys.

“Darling, are you all right?” Mama came into the room, sipping water from a tall plastic tumbler. She hovered behind the sofa, the weight of her concerned stare heating Avery’s skin.

She refused to look at her mother. “Making sure I have everything is all.” She checked the time on her phone. “He said he’d be here at four.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Pray that I don’t come unglued. I’m having second thoughts. Scratch that. I want to back out. This is a horrible idea.”

“I understand why you’re concerned,” Mama said. “It’s only forty-eight hours, right?”

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