Southern Gentleman (Charleston Heat 3)

The ceremony is beautiful. Grey’s hand wrapped around mine, I beam the entire time. I’ve always loved weddings. But witnessing one of my best friends marry the man who helped make her dreams come true fills me to the brim with joy. She looks gorgeous in her dress and heels. Eli looks handsome as hell in his tuxedo as he pledges “to provide all the inspiration you’ll ever need for your books—the sex scenes and all the other scenes, too.”

Sitting next to Grey, the broad expanse of his thigh pressed against mine, doesn’t hurt.

I notice he keeps his jacket buttoned so that his crotch is covered.

“What’s that about?” I whisper, nodding at it.

His eyes slide to meet mine. He’s blushing a little bit. “You’ll see. Or hopefully you won’t. But it’s kind of—well. Never mind.”

It’s over too quickly, and all of a sudden we’re standing and clapping and hollering as Eli and Olivia make their way back down the aisle, this time as man and wife. Passing by, she catches my gaze.

She looks so happy, eyes glistening, that for a second I can’t breathe.

We head to the counter at the back of the barn for cocktail hour. Grey grabs me a mock gin and tonic—ice, soda water, lime—while he gets himself the real deal.

“How freaking happy were Eli and Olivia up there?” he says, handing me my mocktail. “I think their smiles had their own force fields.”

I look at him. Grin. “So does yours.”

“Everyone keeps telling me I’m smiling. I have to figure out how to stop, damn it. It’s not good for my reputation. It’s just…what we have feels real. I like it.”

“Real and right.”

He’s smiling that smile now. The kind with a force field.

“Real and right. I love that idea.” His eyes search mine. “I love you, Julia. I am so crazy in love with you it terrifies me. But you and David Bowie showed me that can be a good thing.”

My heart is pounding.

Fluttering.

Sighing.

All those things. Grey is making me feel all the things I always hoped I would about a guy. The excitement and the lust and the respect.

The way heroines in all the romance I’ve read feel about their heroes.

“I’m crazy in love with you, too,” I say.

And then he leans down and kisses the shit out of me. Tongue and everything. Right there in front of the bar for all of Olivia’s hundred and twenty guests to see.

“Y’all best watch yourselves,” I hear Ford say. “I don’t mind y’alls’ PDA. In fact, I’m a big proponent of public displays of affection. But with Grey’s pants situation…there’s not a lot of room in there for, you know…growth.”

I break the kiss, laughing, and turn to see Ford smirking at us as he lifts his drink to his mouth.

“Pants situation?” I glance at Grey.

He does this little shimmy thing, clearing his throat. Clasping his hands in front of his groin again.

“Nuh-uh,” I say. “Show me.”

“You said you liked it when I wear tighter stuff,” he begins.

“Better tailored. Yeah. Why?”

“Well.” He lets out an uncomfortable grunt. Glancing around, he quickly unbuttons his jacket and holds it away from his crotch. “Think we went with a look that’s a little too tailored.”

I pull back with a gasp, eyes going wide. I can see the outline of Grey’s dick through the fine fabric of his pants. The head, the ridge that separates it from the shaft. The shaft itself.

A pulse of heat moves between my legs.

“Too tailored to the wrong body part, anyway,” Ford says.

Luke happens to appear at that moment. He claps Grey on the shoulder.

“Way to steal the spotlight,” he says, grinning. “All anyone can talk about is what a handsome couple the bride and groom make and that guy wearing the pants that show his dick.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe, looking at Grey. “You’re Tuxedo Dick Pants.”

Ford lets out a bark of laughter. “TDP. Classic.”

I hold up my hand to Grey. “Way to go, baby. You’re already the toast of this party and it’s barely even started.”

Laughing, Grey gives me a high five, curling his fingers around mine.

“I was thinking about you when I had these pants made,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking about—”

“Showing your dick to Olivia’s grandma?” Ford says, raising his brows.

“No, you jerk off, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Grey shoots back. He turns to me. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I say, grinning. “I just can’t wait to see you dance in those TDPs.”

“But Grey doesn’t dance,” Ford says, teasing.

I look at Greyson. “We’ll see about that.”Chapter Twenty-EightGreysonDespite my unfortunate pants situation, I manage to enjoy myself through cocktail hour and dinner, too.

Julia doesn’t exactly make things easy in her tight little black dress and sexy high heels. Her bump really popped over the past week, and she’s enjoying showing it off.

Another thing that dress shows off? Her tits. And ass. And legs.