Southern Gentleman: A Charleston Heat Novel

by Peterson, Jessica

  Nodding, I swallow. Hard.

  “That’s exactly what I want for Grey and I—the ability to be ourselves while still being willing to change to make our relationship work. But Grey just has these deeply entrenched beliefs that I’m not sure he’s willing to budge on. He wants to contribute. Wants to give our family what he believes we want and need. ‘The best of the best’ as he says. But I need something different. We need him to be there, Eliza. I need him to be around more.”

  Eliza takes a bite of salad. Chews thoughtfully for a moment.

  “I hope there’s a way for y’all to compromise. A way for you to meet halfway, so Grey can scratch that itch of his to do the best of the best thing and still be around the way you’d like him to be. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Grey means well. That’s as much a part of him as his drive.”

  Yes, I think to myself. And I need to acknowledge that. I need to give that part of him space to thrive, because it is a good thing.

  I just don’t know how.

  “I hope we can get there,” I say, tearing up again. “I just don’t know how.”

  She reaches across the table and puts a hand over mine.

  “I know my son, Julia. And I know he’s head over heels in love with you. He’ll try his damndest to make you happy, and make your family work.”

  Yep, definitely crying now.

  “I’d do the same,” I say. “Honestly, Eliza. We’re just…different.”

  “Talk to him. I’m sure he’s working on this, same as you are right now. And once you’ve talked, keep talking. Make it a habit. Show you can change, same as him, while still remaining true to who you are. The woman he fell in love with.”

  I don’t know what else to do. I reach across the table and pull Eliza in for the awkwardest, sweetest hug.

  Who knows what will happen next. If Grey and I can work things out. If we can’t.

  But I do know I feel better just talking to Eliza. Being with her.

  “I really appreciate the words of wisdom,” I say. “I miss my parents like crazy. But y’all have welcomed me like a daughter, and that means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

  She kisses my cheek. “I’d be lucky to call you a daughter, Julia. Not only did you bring my son back from the dead. You also have excellent taste in literature.”

  That makes me laugh, even as my eyes flood with a fresh round of tears.

  “Men in kilts,” she continues. “Men in suits. They’re not so different, are they? They have their uniform, and they’re confident enough to rock the hell out of it.”

  “They have sexy accents,” I add. “At least our men in suits do.”

  “They’re the ultimate alphas. But the taller they are…”

  I grin. “The harder they fall.”

  “Exactly.” Eliza meets my eyes. “Believe it or not, Monty was the tall guy in the power suit when we first met. As cocky and self-important as they come. Now look at him. He bakes cakes from scratch for his granddaughter’s birthday parties. He loves Outlander as much as I do. He’s still Monty. Still the man I married.”

  “He’s still who he is. You’ve just rubbed off on him.”

  She grins. This sly, almost secret thing.

  “I have.” She motions for the check. “Now you go rub off on Grey. And let him rub up on you.”

  I laugh. Blush. Cry.

  I hope Greyson and I have as happy an ending as Eliza and Monty’s.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Greyson

  I make a million calls. My employees. My partners.

  I call Olivia. Gracie, too.

  The West Ashley location of Hello Baby. The downtown location of Rainbow Row Books, Charleston’s most well-known Indie bookstore. I somehow, through a combination of shameless flattery and even more shameless desperation, convince the owner, Louise, to open the store for me this morning so I can check out a few things and pick her brain.

  Once I have that shit somewhat settled, I take a deep breath and call Julia last. I bring my phone to my ear. Heart thumping inside my chest.

  She doesn’t answer. I check my watch. She told me a few days ago that she was meeting my mom for lunch today. I was hoping they’d have wrapped it up by now.

  Should I be worried they’re still talking?

  Did lunch even happen?

  I leave a voicemail, apologizing and asking Julia to call me back. Then, because I can’t help myself, I send her a text.

  Many texts.

  Because I can’t fucking stand being apart from her like this. Physically. Emotionally.

  I hadn’t realized exactly how much I valued our connection until it wasn’t there anymore. When I’m with Julia, I feel seen. Safe. Plugged in to something greater than myself.

  I’ve only ever felt that way with my family and close friends. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt it in a romantic relationship before.

  Greyson: Can we talk?

  Greyson: I’m so fucking sorry baby

  Greyson: I miss you

  Greyson: and I feel horrible about the things I said.

  Greyson: meet me? Anywhere

  Greyson: I’m going to see Luke at the barn later today (its not work related I promise)

  Greyson: but I’ll work my schedule around yors

  Greyson: I’m sorry

  Greyson: even bowie isn’t making me feel better

  Greyson: how the hell do I dance without you?

  * * *

  Julia calls me half an hour later.

  “Sweetheart,” I say. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Grey,” she says. She sounds stuffed up. Quiet. Like she’s been crying.

  I let out an anguished breath. “Please. Let’s talk.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “How about now?”

  “Like right now?” I hear the smile in her voice.

  “Right now. I can’t—” I swallow. “I can’t stand this, Julia. It’s killing me. Being away from you. Knowing you’re hurt.”

  “Right now works. Where?”

  “I’m in my car. I’ll come get you.”

  “Okay,” she says. “I’m at home.”

  “Be there in five. Less than that.”

  She’s waiting for me in her driveway. Looks up as I approach and put the car in park.

  I can’t see her eyes; she’s wearing sunglasses.

  My heart feels like it’s about to burst.

  It leaps to my throat when she starts walking toward me. At first I think she’s going to open the passenger side door.

  Instead, she opens the door behind mine.

  Slides into the backseat.

  She pushes her sunglasses onto her head and meets my eyes in the rearview mirror.

  My stomach dips. Hers are bloodshot, ringed with dark circles.

  But there’s a spark in them. I could be imagining it. Wanting so badly for her to forgive me that my brain conjured the hopeful glint I see there.

  Or maybe—just maybe—she’s willing to give me another chance.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She puts a hand on her belly. “Your mom just fed Charlie Brown and me. So we’re pretty content at the moment. Minus, you know, the whole heart-that’s-been-torn-to-pieces thing.”

  “Jules,” I say. The word coming out as a tight growl. “I want to make this right.”

  “I want to make it right too,” she says. Her throat working as she swallows.

  “Can I come back there?”

  Her lips twitch. “But I told you I don’t fuck assholes.”

  “I’ve deserved that. Both times you’ve said it.”

  “You sure as hell have. But I’m not blameless here either.” She pats the bench. “Come. Sit, I mean. No coming.”

  Not yet, I silently reply.

  I cut the ignition and slide into the backseat. Feels familiar and foreign, all at once.

  Our gazes lock. My pulse marches in my ears.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “So sorry for the things I said. The w
ay I behaved. But more than that, I’m sorry for not being the partner I promised I’d be. The man you needed. I thought I was doing the right thing by providing in my own way. I see now that I was wrong. You and I had different interpretations of what being a true partner meant. I thought that meant providing for y’all financially. Giving y’all the best of the best.”

  Julia nods. Reaches for my hand.

  “And I was wrong not to tell you what I meant by ‘real partner’ in more honest terms. I thought it was universally understood what that meant, you know? I thought everyone had the same understanding of what co-parents did and how the whole thing worked. Turns out we all have very different definitions. Which makes perfect sense now that I think about it. We all come from different families. We have different needs. I’m sorry I made such a dumbass assumption.”

  I give her hand a squeeze. “Not dumbass. But thank you for saying that.”

  “I recognize that you were trying in your own way to be there for me and Charlie Brown. That house search you did—I get that it took a lot of time and effort, and I sincerely appreciate what you did. You do think about us. You love us deeply, and you do work your ass off to show it. So thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t say that at the house—thank you.”

  He nods. “You’re welcome.”

  “I really do appreciate you putting that time in. The effort. Even though it was a bit…”

  “Off,” he says. “I get it. Since my divorce, I’ve felt this pressing need to be a workhorse. I caused everyone so much pain, Julia. So much fucking grief. I guess I kind of wanted to make up for that the only way I knew how—by working my ass off so Ford could be there for his daughter, and my parents could be there for Ford. I’d take care of the financial piece of the puzzle so they could take care of each other.”

  Julia’s brow curves upward. “And you thought you’d do the same for Charlie Brown and me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Grey,” she says. Voice rough with anguish. “I hate how much you’ve beaten yourself up. I hate that you’ve put yourself through hell these past few years.”

  “But something needs to change.”

  She swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. For us to work…”

  I wrap my hand around hers. “And it will. Things are going to change, Julia. No more trying. No more empty promises. I’m making real changes. Big ones. So I can be there for you and the baby the way you need.”

  She raises her brows. “Really?”

  “Really. I’m stepping back at Montgomery Partners.”

  Now Julia’s eyes are wide. So wide I have half a mind to hold my hand out to catch them when they pop out of her head.

  “Shut the fuck up! Stepping back? My God, Grey. What does that mean?”

  “Means Ford is returning as a full-time employee. We’ve always been partners—technically, anyway—but he’s going to be taking on more work so I can ease up a bit. More than a bit. A lot. Enough so that I don’t have to work nights or weekends. And I’m taking eight weeks of paternity leave. I’ll obviously coordinate the dates with your maternity leave.”

  She just looks at me for a full beat. Finally, when I think my heart is going to explode, she smiles. A wide, radiant thing.

  “That’s really happening,” she says, more a question than a statement. “Right now, you’re already working on the transition.”

  I nod. “Yup. I was on the phone all morning making arrangements. We’ll spend the next few weeks getting Ford up to speed on all our current projects, but he’s already familiar with a handful of them. Plus he’s a fucking smart guy, so. Yeah. Shouldn’t take long at all.”

  “You’d do that.” Her voice shakes. “For me. And the baby. You’d change your entire life for us. Everything. You’d change everything, Grey.”

  Now it’s my voice that’s shaking. “Of course I would. Y’all are my life now, Julia. I love our life together. I didn’t even like my life before. I wasn’t living. I was just existing. Too afraid—too ashamed—to give myself another chance. I was hiding from the world and from myself. But you showed me the risk to try again was worth it. That taking a chance on myself, and forgiving myself, was so fucking worth it.”

  A tear slips down Julia’s cheek. Her smile is in her eyes now. Just how I like it.

  I glance around the truck.

  Shit, I wanted to do this differently. Make more of a grand gesture in, like, the rain or something.

  But now that I’m here with Julia, in the exact spot where this whole thing began, it feels…right.

  Mostly.

  “Don’t freak out,” I say, shoving open the door. “I’m not proposing or anything.”

  “What? Grey, you don’t—”

  But I’m already doing it.

  I climb out of the car and get on my knees. The concrete biting into them through my jeans.

  “You’ve helped me to forgive myself. And now I ask that you forgive me.” I take her hand again, squinting against the afternoon sun. “I’m on my knees, Julia. You and Charlie Brown have brought me to my knees. Please give our happily ever after another shot. Whatever that looks like—wherever we end up—I’ll be there every step of the way. Just let me ask you two questions. First, will you move in with me? We’ll start the house search all over again. Find something that’s you—something you love. And second, will you be my partner? In all things?”

  Julia’s crying and smiling and biting her lip, all at once.

  “Yes,” she breathes. “And absolutely yes!”

  She pulls me up into a hug. I hold her in my arms and hold her tight, kissing her hair, her mouth, her neck.

  “You lost your family,” I murmur into her ear. “I will never presume or try to replace them. But let’s start our own family. A new one. Together. In Charleston or Paris or where the fuck ever. We’ll dance to David Bowie and wear our stretchy pants and watch Tony and Carm. As long as you’re there, it will be home.”

  She pulls back to look at me. Tired, but relieved now, and happy.

  “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she says. “To dance with someone like you. This—you—us—it’s what I’ve been looking for without even knowing it.”

  I grin. “Can I make a point though?”

  “Of course.”

  “I really would like a backyard for Charlie Brown. Bryce lives in Ford’s. We don’t have to buy a house like the one we looked at. But I would eventually like to have a place with some grass.”

  She nods. “I hear you. I agree we probably need a new place in the long run, so I’d be happy to undertake the search for one with you. I’d just like it to be something a little closer to what I’d always pictured my dream house looking like.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “It’d be something we can afford without you working all the time, for starters,” she replies. “And I’d love a house that’s got some history and plenty of character. A spot in a great neighborhood with lots of trees we could hang a swing from. Something that needs work—something we could put our mark on, and make our own.”

  “I love that idea,” I say. “I love you. I am so in love with you, sweetheart.”

  “And I am so in love with you. All of you. The good parts and the bad. The gentleman and the villain. Don’t you dare hide any of who you are from me, Grey.”

  I grin. “Because you don’t scare easy.”

  “Because I adore you. All of you. Your truth. I want it all. And now I want you.” She gives my hand a hard tug, pulling me to my feet. “Get in here.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  I glide back onto the bench and shut the door.

  She climbs on top of me.

  She straddles my lap, nearly falling over when her belly gets caught between us. I catch her, just in time.

  “A little different from when we first did this,” she says, laughing.

  “Don’t worry, Charlie Brown, we’ll keep you safe. Here Julia—try leaning back,” I say, putting my hands on her hips. “I got you. See? Yeah, that�
��s better.”

  She puts her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. I glide my hands up her sides, gathering the material of her dress in my fists.

  But instead of tearing her dress off and kissing her neck, I kiss her mouth.

  Hard.

  Well.

  She kisses me back. Hands on my face and in my hair. Tilting her head, her mouth soft and slick and hot on mine.

  Needy.

  She needs me as much as I need her.

  Then—and only then—do I tear the dress off. Right there in her driveway in broad daylight.

  Good thing my windows are tinted.

  I work my mouth down her neck, her chest. Reach up and use my fingers to coax her breast out of her bra. Her nipple hardens to a point that I take in my mouth.

  Julia arches into my caress with a moan, digging her fingernails into my skin.

  “Grey,” she pants.

  My name.

  It sounds so good—so right—when she says it.

  Still holding on to me with one hand, she works the zipper of my jeans down with the other. Taking my cock, aching and hard, in her hand.

  I’m already leaking cum. She uses her thumb to swirl it over the head. Lust rips through me.

  Lust and love and so much life I can hardly breathe.

  I lean in and kiss her. Tongue licking into her mouth.

  “Put me inside you, baby,” I say, lips brushing against hers. “How ready are you?”

  Julia spreads her legs a little wider. “Feel for yourself.”

  Reaching between us, I pull her panties to the side and gently glide my first finger between her lips.

  I growl.

  Wet. Hot. Soft.

  For me.

  She rises up on her knees. Eyes locked on mine as she settles me at her entrance. My head meets with the slick heat of her, and for a second I see stars.