Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

I don’t know what to say next.

Hey friend, how great was that?

Please don’t judge me for fantasizing about you fucking me in the ass.

Luke, I’m starting to want you in ways I shouldn’t, and it’s making me feel all mixed up inside.

“Gracie,” Luke says, bringing me back to earth. “Gracie, if I could high five you through this phone, I would. That was…the best phone sex I’ve ever had.”

I grin, the heaviness in my chest lessening just a bit. “It’s the only phone sex you’ve ever had.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t fuckin’ awesome. ’Cause it was. Baby girl, you’re a natural at this. I had no idea you had such—well. Imagination, I guess.”

My grin broadens into a smile as something nice blooms inside me. “Are you saying my mind turns you on?”

“I’m lying alone in my bed with my phone in one hand and my cum in the other. I’d say your mind is a big fucking turn on, yeah.”

Be careful.

How many other guys have complimented me, only to ghost after they’d gotten what they wanted?

A beat of silence passes.

“How was your day?” he asks. Because now the guy can read my mind in addition to reading my body, too.

I mean, didn’t Luke get what he wanted? Didn’t he come all over my tits last night?

But he’s still here. He could say goodnight. Hang up.

But he’s still listening.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say.

“Do what? Talk to you after putting my soap-covered dick inside you?” This makes me smile harder. “By the way, soap is never a good substitute for real lube. But whether or not I have to, Gracie, I always want to hear how you’re doing.”

My eyelids, my heart, my resolve—they all flutter as I look up at the ceiling.

“My day was insanely busy. Now that we’re getting closer to the grand re-opening at Holy City…” I let out a breath. “I tell everyone I’m excited. And I am. But if I’m being honest, I’m also getting nervous, too. We’re going to make the deadline by the skin of our teeth—construction is behind schedule, thanks to some lead pipes we somehow just found. And I worry that the added responsibility of running a bigger store will mean I get even less time behind the counter. Which I love.”

I haven’t told anyone this. Not my business partners, my store manager. My brother.

I don’t want to think about why I’m telling Luke.

“It’s a big transition for you, Grace. You’re taking a big risk, and there are no guarantees it will work out.” Through the phone, I hear a door open. A faucet being turned on.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Cleanin’ myself up. Some of us weren’t in a bath when we came.”

I laugh. “Right. I forgot. Carry on.”

“Anyway.” The water cuts off. I imagine him wiping his hands on a pristine white towel, fresh from the dryer, the muscles in those porntastic forearms of his rippling as he moves. “I remember when I was thinkin’ about retiring from baseball to buy the farm. Granted, I was injured, and I knew my days were numbered. But I had a good thing goin’ on. I loved the sport. My club loved me. I could’ve stuck around for a few more years, maybe transitioned to a coaching position.”

I roll my lips between my teeth. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because my gut was telling me I needed to do this other thing. Remember what I told you? It was the day we met, in your Mama’s garden.”

I smile at the memory. “You said you loved to grow things.”

“Yup. My mamas passed on their green thumbs to me. I can’t explain it. I just knew buyin’ this land and turning it back into the farm it was meant to be was what I wanted to do.”

“Exactly,” I say, sitting up in my excitement. Water sloshing over the sides of the tub again. “That’s exactly how I feel about growing my business. Deep down, I know it’s the right move. I know it’s what I’m supposed to be doing. But damn is it stressful. Because like you said, I had a really good thing going before the addition. Part of me wonders if I’m being greedy or reckless, risking it all for more.”

“You’re neither of those things. But I understand how you feel. Hell, I still feel that way on hard days. But I will tell you that the good days—Gracie, those days are really fuckin’ good.”

Now I’m gripping the side of the tub. Holding on for dear life.

I’m feeling something fierce right now. Something that’s fierce and…soft.

Don’t be stupid, a voice tells me.

This is your gut speaking, another says, and you need to be brave.

Because this is a good thing. I know I should put myself back out there, even though I’m afraid.

I’m trying to work through my feelings. My fears.