He gives my side a squeeze. A pulse of heat ignites low in my core and stays there. “I’m proud of us too, E. The past year has been the best of my life. I mean that.”
“The best,” Bryce says. “Eva, you write the best books and make the best pizza I’ve ever tasted.”
Ford grins. “Who knew the frozen stuff tasted so good?”
“Shhh.” I smile against the finger I hold to my lips. “Y’all are gonna destroy my reputation!”
“With pleasure,” Ford says, wagging his brows.
I put a hand on his back and look up at Bryce. “Let’s go home and get comfy. Think we can steal what’s left of that cake your dad made?”
Ford’s lips twitch. “I’ll go look for the box.”
I can’t resist. “It’s such a nice box.”
“Not as nice as yours.” Ford kisses my mouth this time. “C’mon. Let’s grab the cake and get out of here. Home is calling my name.”
“Mine too,” Bryce says.
“Mine three,” I say.
And that’s how the best day of the best year of my life ends—with the three of us curled up on Ford’s couch, cozy and cake filled and blissed out beyond belief.
Want to know what goes down when Eva, Ford, and Bryce host their families over the holidays? There may or may not be a ring box involved (!!!!). Grab your FREE bonus epilogue by signing up for my newsletter to experience Christmas at the Montgomery household!
While the Charleston Heat series ends here, I’m not done with southern studs yet. Check out SOUTHERN SEDUCER, the first book in my North Carolina Highlands Series, next! Turn the page for a sexy excerpt.
Southern Seducer Excerpt
Annabel
Leaving the warmth of Beau’s body is torture, but somehow, I manage to step away. “I should get back.”
Beau clears his throat, flipping his hat off his head to run a hand through his hair—one of his nervous tells.
What the hell is he nervous about? Not me. This. Us.
Is he?
The idea is too risky to contemplate.
“Course. I’ll give you a ride. My cart’s parked right over here.”
Following him, I sigh. “Sorry. I’m tired, and I have to pump soon or my boobs will explode. But does it make me an asshole to say I really don’t want to go home?”
Maybe not an asshole, a voice inside my head says. But definitely an idiot.
What am I trying to accomplish by saying that? Am I baiting him, waiting for him to ask me back to his place or something?
“Nah,” he says. “Just makes you honest. C’mon, I’ll take the long way back to your cottage.”
“It’s not a cottage.”
“I know.”
Beau makes good on his promise. The path we take dips down a hill and curves around the perimeter of the lake. Its surface is perfectly still. The full moon, the same milky white as Maisie’s skin, is reflected on the lake’s surface. A perfect mirror image. The air is cool, and my blood is warm. It burns warmer when I slide into Beau as we round a bend, our legs pressed together, knee to hip.
I glance down at his thigh. It’s twice the size of mine, a ridge of solid muscle.
The image pops into my head: Beau between my legs, his naked thighs working as he thrusts into me. Hard and ardent.
And then, in my head, he kisses me, tongue matching the roll of his hips.
My eyes slide to his lips. I bet he’s a good kisser.
Slowwwww down.
But the fantasy won’t quit. He’s kissing my neck now, guiding my knee to my chest to deepen the angle. Then he kneels, pulling out of me, and circles the head of his cock—non-existent piercing is there, interestingly—around my clit. I feel it all.
It’s shocking in the most pleasant way possible. I feel like myself again. Young. Free. At home in my skin.
I already want more of it.
“You okay?”
I blink. Beau is looking at me funny.
“What?”
“You just moaned.” Oh, Christ. “Your boobs hurtin’ or something?”
“Stop the cart.”
“You’re really not okay? I can—”
“Please, just—stop the cart, Beau.”
He hits the brake, and I leap out onto the grass. I run my hands down my own thighs, squeezing them together in an effort to relieve the throb between my legs.
“Bel—”
“I think I’ll just walk home.” I don’t trust myself to stay.
“Like hell you will. It’s pitch black out there.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, and start walking. There’s a fancy dock house just ahead on my left. “I just need to, um, clear my head. Fresh air and…stuff.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” I hear him mutter behind me. “Bel, stop.”
He grabs my arm, the feel of his fingers lighting me up, and I stop, spinning around to look at him.
His eyes are on my face, and he’s furrowing his brow. That barely restrained hunger is back, and it’s turning me inside out. It’s filling me with joy and hope and desire so sharp it hurts.
I’m hit by the sudden urge to cry.
“Did I miss somethin’?” I notice his accent has thickened. “I thought we had fun tonight.”
“Tonight was great.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
I look at him, begging with my eyes for him to understand. To let me be, to give me time so I don’t ruin the good thing we have going.
My heart is pounding. I look away toward the lake and run my tongue along the inside of my top lip as I search for the right words.
When I look back, Beau’s eyes are on my mouth. A muscle in his jaw jumps, and any doubt he’s not feeling this too goes up in smoke.
The pull his body has on mine becomes acute, and I’m dying.
I’m going to die if I don’t touch him.
So much has changed since we first met as eighteen-year-old kids. If now’s not the time to be honest, to be truly, terrifyingly up front about what we want, then when?
We fall into each other at the same time. It’s fast and it’s wild, and the next thing I know, he’s capturing my mouth with his, our heads tilted just so, his to my left, mine to the right, like we’ve done this a thousand, a million times before. My heart’s in my throat now, kicking and screaming, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep tears from falling because it’s sweet.
The feeling of being kissed by Beau is so damn sweet.
The knowledge that he wants this, too—that he wants me—is the sweetest of all.
That answers one question. Only a million more to go.
I move my lips, asking for more. He groans, stepping into me and taking my face in his hands. His touch gentle, gentle, gentle, even as his lips sear my own. Even as he opens them with the hot demands of his tongue. I curl my arms around his neck and burrow into his body, pressing my breasts to his broad chest and my hips to his hips. I’ve always known that Beau is a big guy. But up close, he’s huge. The corded sinews and muscles of his neck flex beneath my fingers.
Neck and thighs. Two parts of a guy I’ve never paid much attention to until now.
Beau’s are perfect.
His skin is hot to the touch.
He sips me at first, small sucks, licking his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like a savory combination of apples and whiskey. His scruff catches on my chin and cheeks, and even though it burns, I like it. I reach up and press my fingers into his beard. I can feel the sharp, strong lines of his jaw underneath it, the shape of his expression as his kiss deepens and his tongue licks into my mouth. I curl my hand around his jaw and guide him closer. The smell of the bonfire lingers on his skin.
A reminder of how close I am to lighting one of the most important relationships in my life on fire.
But I couldn’t stop if I tried.
Beau’s arm tightens around my waist, and at the same time, his sips turn into long, ardent pulls. My head tips back at the onslaught, each stroke of his lips and
tongue making the beat between my legs heavier. My nipples harden.
Experiencing this kind of arousal again is both a relief and a concern. My sex drive has plummeted since I gave birth. I’ve wondered if my vagina just dried up for good and worried that that part of me was dead forever.
I’m happy to report I was wrong. So wrong.
Still, I worry. I’ve heard stories about women squirting milk everywhere when they orgasm.
Pretty sure John Riley Beauregard, star NFL linebacker, multi-millionaire and all-around Southern hottie, has never had to worry about being sprayed with breast milk during a make-out session.
Is that all this is? I don’t know. I don’t know what this is, or how far it’s going to go. But controlling it—the kiss, my response to it, all the feeling that’s coursing between us—feels wrong.
What if I just live in the moment instead? For the past four months, I’ve been living by the clock, always doing, dreading, preparing for the next feeding, the next load of laundry, the next time I get to sleep.
But right now, time doesn’t exist. It’s only breath and heartbeats.
I surrender to the sheer pleasure of just being.
Want to read the rest of Beau and Annabel’s story? SOUTHERN SEDUCER is FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
Thank you so much for reading SOUTHERN HEARTBREAKER! Like Eva, I wasn’t really sure I wanted kids. And like her, I decided to take the plunge—as I type this, I’m feeling our first baby kick in my (very large) eight-month-pregnant belly. I’ve wanted to write a book about my journey to motherhood for a while now. While Ford and Eva’s story wasn’t easy to write, I’m very proud of how it turned out. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it!
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Don’t know what to read next? Check out SOUTHERN SEDUCER, the first book in my all new North Carolina Highlands Series! This book is not set in the Charleston Heat universe, but you’ll still get the same southern studs and hot accents you’ve come to expect from my books. You may also see a familiar character or two pop up.
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I love nothing more than hanging out with readers, and I’m very active on social media. Here’s how you can get in on the fun:
Join my Facebook reader group, The City Girls, for exclusive excerpts of upcoming books plus giveaways galore!
Follow my not-so-glamorous life as a romance author on Instagram @JessicaPAuthor
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Also by Jessica Peterson
THE NORTH CAROLINA HIGHLANDS SERIES
Beards. Bonfires. Boning.
Southern Seducer (NC Highlands #1)
Southern Hotshot (NC Highlands #2)
Southern Sinner (NC Highlands #3)
Southern Playboy (NC Highlands #4)
Southern Bombshell (NC Highlands #5)
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THE CHARLESTON HEAT SERIES
The Weather’s Not the Only Thing Steamy Down South.
Southern Charmer (Charleston Heat #1)
Southern Player (Charleston Heat #2)
Southern Gentleman (Charleston Heat #3)
Southern Heartbreaker (Charleston Heat #4)
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THE THORNE MONARCHS SERIES
Royal. Ridiculously Hot. Totally Off Limits…
Royal Ruin (Thorne Monarchs #1)
Royal Rebel (Thorne Monarchs #2)
Royal Rogue (Thorne Monarchs #3)
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THE STUDY ABROAD SERIES
Studying Abroad Just Got a Whole Lot Sexier.
A Series of Sexy Interconnected Standalone Romances
Lessons in Love (Study Abroad #1)
Lessons in Gravity (Study Abroad #2)
Lessons in Letting Go (Study Abroad #3)
Lessons in Losing It (Study Abroad #4)
Acknowledgments
I wrote this book under one of the tightest deadlines of my career (when your baby is due, she’s coming, whether you’re ready or not!). For several months, I had to disappear into my writing cave, and I have a host of people to thank for holding down the fort while I was busy scribbling away.
Thanks to Jodi, Monica, and Ingrid, for keeping our awesome little corner of the internet up and running. The City Girls is my favorite place online, and I have y’all to thank for that. Monica, thank you for helping me find Marco, the cover model for this book! He makes the perfect Ford.
Thanks to Nina and the gals at Social Butterfly. You’ve become an indispensible part of my process, and I sincerely appreciate having y’all on my team!
Thanks to my amazing beta readers, Quinn, Jodi, Monica, Julia, and Heather, who provided invaluable feedback on this book. I’m lucky to have you guys!
Thanks to my editor, Kristin Anders, and my copy editor, Tandy Boese. You guys turned this book around under a tight deadline, and I appreciate you working with me.
Thanks to my amazing ARC team for taking the time to read and review my work. I still pinch myself when I see your reviews. Y’all are making my dreams come true!
Thanks to my cover designer, Najla Qamber, who knocked it out of the park as usual. Thanks, too, to the cover photographer, Dany Fantoni, and the cover model, Marco Boscolo Nale. You guys were great to work with!
Thanks to all my wonderful author friends who provided encouragement, support, and advice over the past year. Special thanks to Kathryn Nolan for walking me through a few key points on inclusion and diversity.
Thanks to my gal Vivian for sharing her family’s Mexican recipes—and for the awesome chats. I can’t wait to make Pastel Azteca!
Finally, thanks to my readers, old and new. You guys are what keep me going. Thanks for making this author smile on a regular basis!
About the Author
Jessica Peterson writes smokin’ hot romance set in her favorite cities around the world. She grew up on a steady diet of Mr. Darcy, Edward Cullen, and Jamie Frasier, and it wasn’t long before she started writing swoon-worthy heroes of her own. She loves strong coffee, stronger heroines, and heroes with hot accents.
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She lives in Charlotte, NC with her husband Ben and her smelly Goldendoodle, Martha Bean. You can check out her books at www.jessicapeterson.com.
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