Southern Heartbreaker (Charleston Heat 4)

“I think traditions are important. So I wanted to start one of our own—make pizza night magical. It’s no big deal,” I say. Even though it is a good bit of work. But it’s worth it to see Bryce enjoying the pizza so much.

It’s worth it to have the three of us in my kitchen, cooking and laughing. I’m starting to see glimmers of the family we’re becoming. The same and yet totally different from my own. Adopting the good stuff, leaving behind the bad.

It really is nothing short of magical. Even if it does require a fuck ton of effort on my part, I want to fan this ember into a flame.

“Thank you,” Ford says, swiping his thumb across the back of my palm. “Let’s just keep the lines of communication open, all right? This is a big adjustment for all of us. I want to make sure we stay in tune with each other and how we’re feeling. We’re lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have y’all.”

Bryce gasps, and we both look up.

“Uh oh,” she says, smile fading.

Ford tips his head. “That doesn’t sound good. Did we have an accident?”

Her face crumples, and she lets out an ear-piercing wail that has me screwing my right eye shut.

“I’m sorry I peed!” she says.

“It’s all right. Let’s get you changed.” Ford stands and lifts her out of her booster seat, tossing me a look. “Magical, right?”

I laugh and head for the kitchen, where I’ve got a couple extra rolls of paper towels. “Maybe not this part.”Chapter Twenty-SevenFordGlancing at my watch, I blink.

How the hell is it six thirty already?

I try to end the call with my investor and friend from business school, Rob Cooper, as politely as possible. Not an easy feat, considering he just found out that he inherited a Dukedom. How wild is that? Apparently his, like, long lost father or something left him a castle and a shit ton of farmland in England. He’s jetting off to London tonight to inspect his new holdings. I wish him luck, and tell him to keep Montgomery Partners in mind if he needs any ideas on how to develop his property.

“Fuck,” I say out loud when I finally hang up and check my watch again, making my assistant, Adrian, glance my way from his computer at the desk just outside my office.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just—shit.” I spear a hand through my hair, then grab my suit jacket and car keys. “Running late. This day totally got away from me.”

Starting to become a trend. I have no idea where the minutes go. Ever since Eva and I started dating, it’s like time moves at warp speed. There weren’t enough hours in the day before she entered my life.

Now? Now I’m considering reaching out to Barbara Streisand to ask her how she cloned her dogs, because I am seriously considering cloning myself. If there were multiple Ford Montgomerys, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m perpetually running a marathon at breakneck speed.

Maybe I could actually show up for shit on time. Because right now, I’m late for pretty much everything.

“Want me to push back your reservation? Cancel it?” Adrian asks, hand on the cradle of his phone.

My stomach clenches at the thought of pushing back date night yet again. Eva and I already had to do it twice this week. Once because she had a little kitchen fire situation while testing recipes (everyone is okay, although I think it bruised her pit master ego). And again because a meeting with one of my biggest investors here at Montgomery Partners ran an hour over.

But it won’t be happening tonight. I am determined to show Eva a good time. Just because I’m a single dad who can’t seem to get his shit together doesn’t mean I can’t date her the way she deserves to be dated. It’s our honeymoon phase, and it’s important to me that we both enjoy this special time. I want to wine and dine her. Do the dinner and a movie thing. Treat her to fun, sexy experiences.

You know, do things any normal couple who’s head over heels for each other would do.

“Nah. Let’s keep it as is, thanks,” I say.

Yeah, adding Eva to the already insane juggle that is my life hasn’t been easy. She’s become my lifeline in so many ways, though. Squeezing in a date or two a week is a herculean task, but it’s always worth it in the end. She’s the one person I can truly be myself with. The one person who truly makes me laugh.

I always come home from our dates feeling centered. Refreshed. Sated in every meaning of the word.

Considering how fucking amazing Eva’s been with Bryce, it’s especially important that I pull out all the stops. In true overachiever Eva style, she’s gone above and beyond with my daughter. The Friday night pizza bar. Volunteering for the painful job no one in their right mind would take on—coaching a soccer team for four-year-olds.