Southern Heartbreaker: A Charleston Heat Novel

by Peterson, Jessica

  I blink, glancing toward the kitchen. Alex and Mom are trying to look like they’re not listening. Just like I’m trying not to feel all the feelings hitting me all at once right now. Excitement. Nerves.

  Ford’s daughter is cute. Really cute. And he’s so damn cute with her. Doesn’t mean I want one of my own. But it’s sweet to witness the bond they clearly share.

  “Sorry about that,” Ford says. “We are very into asking Daddy about literally everything these days. I swear my life feels like a never-ending game of twenty questions, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I grin. “No problem. Lil’ Jon questions that come from four-year-olds can’t be easy, but you handled that one like a pro.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” He clears his throat. Hits me that he might be a little nervous, too. Aw. “So. I had a really good time last night, Eva, and I’d like to see you again. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

  “Plans? Tomorrow?” I lock gazes with Alex. She’s mouthing—at least I think she’s mouthing—ask him to bone you. “Not really, no. No plans.”

  “Grey and Julia offered to take Bryce for the day. I think they’re getting freaked out about the imminent arrival of the baby and want to, quote unquote, ‘prepare themselves for the reality of parenthood.’ I told Grey there’s no preparing yourself, it’s totally a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire. He wouldn’t listen. Either way, I have the whole afternoon free. Weather’s supposed to be decent. No rain in the forecast, anyway. Was thinking maybe I could take you out on my boat.”

  I blink. For what feels like the hundredth time today. “You have a boat?”

  I can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. “I do indeed have a boat. And I’d like to take you out on it. Figured I’d fill a cooler up with beer, then go from there. Please don’t make me drink it all on my own. Now I know I really will be dead after more than a few.”

  Visions of Ford, shirtless and shimmering with tanning oil as he hands me an ice cold beer, fill my head.

  There’s no way I can deal with that and not catch some feelings.

  No way.

  Let’s be honest, there’s also no way I can say no. Beer? Boat? Ford in a bathing suit?

  Just lust.

  I can deal with desire. Same as I can keep it under control. Yeah, Ford broke my heart ten years ago. But I was a kid back then. I’m an adult now. I can handle myself. Handle my emotions, and keep a lid on them if need be.

  And Ford is proving to be so different from the jerk who walked away from me a decade ago.

  A day spent out on the water, away from all the problems spinning incessantly around in my head, is too sweet of an offer to pass up.

  “I’d love to,” I hear myself saying, and Alex fist bumps me from across the room. “What can I bring? Lunch? I’d be happy to make something if you’ll save space in that cooler.”

  I’m already thinking about what to make. If I get started now, I can smoke a pork shoulder. Do pulled pork sandwiches. Or is that too much? Too expected?

  This would be the perfect opportunity to test an idea or two for the new cookbook. I just wish I knew where to start. What direction I wanted to take.

  You’ll find your inspiration.

  Ford’s words from last night pop into my head again. Maybe this is where it starts.

  “Perfect. Send me your address and I’ll pick you up. Eleven okay?”

  “Eleven is great.”

  “Just bring you and whatever you’d like to make for lunch. I’ve got everything else covered. Towels. Sunscreen. Floaties.”

  I grin. “Such a dad.”

  “Yup. No shame.” A pause. “I’m really looking forward to it, Eva. It’s not often I get time to myself like this. Much less twice in one weekend. So far, you being back in town is turning out to be a very good thing for me.”

  I remember what he said—more than once—about the two of us. Feels star-crossed.

  The buzzer is going off on the oven. Thank God. We’re wading into deep water here, and I’m not ready for that.

  I’ll never be ready to do that again with Ford.

  “Can’t wait,” I manage. “You’ll let me know if I can bring anything else?”

  “Already told you, I have it covered. I just want you to sit back and relax.”

  “Sounds heavenly. See you tomorrow then.”

  “See you tomorrow, Eva. By the way—you did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “Answered when I called.”

  I’m grinning harder. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Suit and Tie. I’m only on my second cup of coffee—my phone screen is blurry until my third. At least. Couldn’t make out your name.”

  Another chuckle. “Keep telling yourself that. Tomorrow at eleven. Bye, Eva.”

  I tell him goodbye. My phone is warm in my hand when I pull it from my ear. I look up to see Mom setting the table, Alex spooning enormous portions of grits casserole onto our plates. She looks up and smiles.

  “Aw, yeah. Y’all are gonna be swapping more than spit tomorrow.”

  Mom shoots her a warning glare as she takes a seat.

  “How nice that Ford has a boat!” mom says, clearly trying to change the subject.

  “How much you wanna bet it’s, like, a yacht or something?” Alex sits and spreads her napkin across her lap. “I always knew that guy was a pimp.”

  “He’s not a pimp. He’s a dad. He’s also just a friend.”

  “Are you putting him in the ‘just a friend’ box for that reason? Because he’s a dad?”

  “Well, yeah. And for lots of other reasons, too. Like he broke my heart a hundred years ago.”

  Mom looks at me and nods, wearing that small smile. I have to give it to her and my dad. They’ve never given me shit for the choices I make, including the one not to have kids. My parents are many things—most good, some not so much—but they have never, ever judged me.

  I’m shaking when I sit down beside my sister. But wolfing down one serving, then another, of Mom’s grits casserole, I start to feel better. Fortified. It’s out of this world delicious. Savory and filling. Satisfying. The kind of comfort food that sticks to your ribs and makes your pants feel so tight they hurt.

  “This is really good, Mom,” I say when I’m on my third helping. “Thank you for making it for us. Today and all those bajillion other times, too.”

  “Mom, you’re the best,” Alex adds.

  “I know,” she replies with a saucy little shrug. “You two are lucky to have me.”

  “We are. The luckiest.” I push my clean plate away from me and fall back into my chair with a pained sigh. I’m so full I feel like I’m about to burst. “Y’all. What the hell should I bring for lunch tomorrow? I keep thinking a tried and true recipe, but I’d like to at least attempt something new for the cookbook.”

  Mom chews thoughtfully. Swallows. “What about tacos? We can make tortillas—I’ll help.”

  “Oh!” Alex says, eyes lighting up. “You can make some fish tacos. I just got this incredible tilefish from Captain Beau the other day. Put it over a roasted cauliflower mash and topped it with a basil aioli. It was so freaking delicious even the grump ate it.”

  I nod, the recipe taking shape inside my head. Mom’s tortillas, grilled fish, a tangy, creamy slaw. Maybe get some avocado in there somehow? But how to do that without the avocado going brown and mushy before we eat?

  No clue, but I am feeling jazzed all of a sudden about figuring it all out.

  I’m feeling inspired. Which hasn’t happened in a long, long time.

  “I like it,” I say, my heart skipping. “I like it a lot.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ford

  “Y’all sure you really want to do this?” I ask Julia as I climb the steps onto the front porch. “Also, sorry I’m early. Guess I’m eager to get out on the water.”

  Eager to see this girl I cannot for the life of me stop thinking about. One date, and I’m already jonesing for more of Eva.
>
  Julia holds out her arms and smiles at Bryce. “Yes, we are absolutely sure. We’re so happy y’all are here.”

  My daughter is perched, as usual, on my hip, her sparkly purple backpack—stuffed with toys, snacks, and an extra change of clothes—slung over my other shoulder.

  For a second, I feel a pulse of guilt. Am I being a schmuck for handing her off half an hour early? Should I even be handing her off at all on a Sunday, one of only two days a week I get to spend more than a stolen few hours with her now that I’m working full time?

  But then I remember how, well, refreshed I felt yesterday morning after hanging out with Eva Friday night. Slight hangover notwithstanding. I was tired, but I didn’t feel it. Not the way I usually do. I was more patient with Bryce. So much so that I set up easels for us both and allowed Bryce to make a mess of my kitchen with supposedly “washable” paint. Three hours later, she had a picture of a palm tree, and I had a washing machine full of brightly dyed kitchen towels.

  Clearly hanging out with Eva—taking time to myself—is good for me, and good for Bryce, too. Even if it isn’t easy to leave her like this. She’s why I bought my boat in the first place. She loves it.

  She also loves her new aunt.

  So I hand my baby over, grinning when she gives Julia a big hug. Julia smiles. Bryce smiles. For a second, she looks so much like Rebecca—long, dark eyelashes, big, toothy smile—it takes my breath away.

  “Aw,” Julia says, giving Bryce a squeeze despite her pregnant belly. “We figure we should get our quality one-on-one time in now before you-know-who arrives.”

  Bryce has gotten very comfortable in her role as only child, only grandchild, and only niece. When we told her a new baby was on the way, she burst into tears. She does not want to share us—my family and I—with anyone, least of all a baby.

  It’s still a touchy subject. At the mention of the word “baby”, she’ll usually dissolve into tears and/or hysterics. So we’ve taken to referring to Grey and Julia’s baby the way Harry Potter and company refer to Voldemort.

  It’s a ridiculous accommodation, one I try not to make when it’s just Bryce and I. This baby is coming, whether she likes it or not. Also, who’s not to say Bryce won’t be getting brothers and sisters of her own in the future? I don’t know if I want more kids—one is exhausting enough at the moment—but I am open to the idea.

  That all being said, I’d rather not start Bryce’s day at Uncle Grey and Auntie Julia’s house with a fit. I don’t want to scare them off parenthood, for one thing. Not like they have a choice at this point, but still.

  For another, I’m really looking forward to spending an afternoon off—no work, no laundry, no dad duties—with Eva. Who knows when I’ll get time like this to myself again?

  Who knows when Eva will decide she’s done giving me second chances?

  I shove the thought aside. I’m getting ahead of myself again. Difficult not to do after the time I spent with her on Friday. That kiss, fuck me—

  “What’s that smile about?”

  I blink at the sound of my brother’s voice. He’s appeared at the door, lips twitching in a knowing smirk.

  “What smile?” I say, lips twitching. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Julia wags her eyebrows. “It’s a woman, isn’t it? Y’all talk amongst yourselves—I’m taking this sweet pea inside. Too hot out here for me! Plus I just bought some Play-Dough—”

  “I love play dough! Is it purple?” Bryce says.

  “Of course it’s purple!” Julia replies. “I got pink, too.”

  I laugh. I’ve tried to introduce more colors into Bryce’s universe. I’ve tried in general to break gender norms with her. But if it’s not purple, pink, and/or sparkly princess themed, she is not having it.

  I’ve learned to pick my battles.

  Bryce smiles, clasping her hands in delight. “Bless your heart, Auntie Julia.”

  It’s Julia’s turn to laugh. She leans in to kiss Bryce’s cheek. “You are scrumptious. Ford, enjoy your afternoon.”

  “Thank y’all again for taking her.”

  Wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, my brother moves out onto the porch. Smiles when he takes in my bathing suit and flops. I almost startle. It’s still a pleasant shock to see my brother happy like this. In the not-too-distant past, he lived under a perpetual cloud. Growling at everyone and everything that crossed his path.

  Now? He’s smiling while making brunch for the (very pregnant) love of his life at the new home they just purchased together.

  Love. It’s kind of the best.

  I miss having it in my own life.

  “Heading out to the water?” he asks. “Good for you. And the girl you’re clearly taking with you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m taking Eva Lacy.”

  Grey lifts a brow, his smile deepening. “I saw y’all talking at the shower. Was wondering what that was about. I always liked her. If memory serves, she kept you on your toes. And totally devastated you after y’all broke up.”

  I run a hand up the back of my head. I don’t know why I’m being bashful all of a sudden. I feel like I’m nineteen again. Self-conscious at the mere mention of my crush’s name.

  “Yeah, that was kind of my fault. I had my head up my ass back then.”

  “Still do sometimes.”

  “Coming from the guy who just took his head out of his own ass for the first time in years.”

  Grey purses his lips. “Fair point.”

  “Anyway. I’m not sure what it’s about, to be honest. Eva and I. But I ran into her again on Friday night, and we ended up having a really great time together. I’ve been riding this high all weekend, Grey. Can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

  “You were always the romantic. Hell, you turned me into one, too. Glad to hear you’re finally getting in a little romance yourself.”

  I nod. “I forgot how nice it feels. Granted, the timing’s not great—”

  “How so?”

  Letting out a breath, I say, “Well, for starters, life has been busy lately. Really busy. I’m still learning how to balance it all—you know, work and life. In all honesty, it can be brutal. I have no idea how I’m going to squeeze in this dating thing. If it goes that direction with Eva.”

  I really, really hope it goes that direction.

  “You need help?” Grey furrows his brow. “You know I’m always willing to step back up at the firm if you need me.”

  I wave him off. “No fucking way. You’ve got your own family now. It’s your turn to focus on other things. Least I can do is cover for you over your paternity leave after the years you covered for me.”

  “I was happy to do it.”

  “Just like I’m happy to do it for you now. I’ve got it handled—just ask any of our investors or our partners or whoever. Gotta say I’m kinda nailing it. Not sleeping all that often, but I am closing deals and keeping investors very happy.”

  Greyson tilts his head, giving me a look. “Cocky much?”

  “Learned it from the best,” I say, giving him a look right back.

  He claps me on the shoulder. “Hell yeah you did. I’m proud of you, brother. I also want you to be happy. I know I’m not officially a dad yet, but I can already tell you there’s no way you can work the way I did and have any semblance of a happy personal life. If you need time off, or more help, then ask for it. Don’t spread yourself too thin. I made that mistake for a long time, and now I seriously regret it. As much as type-A nuts like us want to think otherwise, the world won’t end if we’re not there to keep it running.”

  To be honest, I don’t think I necessarily need more time off. I think I just need more time doing stuff like I did on Friday night with Eva. Fun stuff. Pointless stuff.

  Stuff that energizes me.

  “That’s a lot of wisdom for a sober Sunday morning,” I say, grinning.

  “Shut up. You’re the one who likes that Oprah podcast.”

  I scoff. “Please
. The last few times I’ve been in your car, what have you had playing?”

  Grey’s mouth twitches. “Super Soul Sundays.”

  “I rest my case. Oprah is bomb as fuck.”

  “Of course she is. And I had to earn all that wisdom the hard way. I just don’t want you to do like I did. Got it?”

  “I have way too much emotional intelligence to ever do like you did.” I flip my keys, ignoring the daggers in my brother’s eyes. “But since I haven’t been on a second date in approximately fifty-seven years, do you have any brotherly wisdom to share on that subject? Obviously whatever you did with Julia worked.”

  Greyson smiles. “Condoms. I suggest double bagging it, just in case. I have no regrets now about getting Julia pregnant, but…yeah. Condoms for the win.”

  “Cool. My fifteen year old self will definitely take that to heart.”

  “Famous last words, man.” Grey claps me on the shoulder again. “But seriously. We both know you don’t need any advice from me. You’re a good guy with a good heart. Just be yourself and have fun. Bowie helps.”

  “Bowie? As in David? The amazingly awesome icon of eighties rock-pop and colored spandex?”

  Grey’s smile grows wistful. “Inside joke between Julia and I.”

  “I know,” I reply.

  It’s his turn to wave me off. “Go. Enjoy your afternoon. We’re happy to keep Bryce for as long as you’d like. And tell Eva we said hello.”

  I pull him in for a hug. Six months ago, Grey would’ve never returned the gesture. But now he’s hugging me back like he means it.

  Aw, yeah. His inner softie is out in full force.

  “Thanks again for taking Bryce. And for the terrible advice. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. Y’all have fun. Not the clean kind. But definitely use condoms. I’ve got some in my glove box if you need—”

  “That’s a definite nope.” I release him and head for the stairs. “I’ll be back by dinner. See y’all later.”

  I try—and fail—not to break the speed limit on my way to the address Eva sent me. Putting my truck into park outside her apartment, I shoot her a text.