Real bad.
To make up for it, I’m gonna have to pull out all the stops.
I’m gonna have to make her see what I do. So she knows I got no intention of ever walking out on her again because we’re too damn good together.
We got too damn much to offer each other.
I know I can make this dream come true with Gracie. We made all her sexual dreams come true, didn’t we? I was right there with her. Bringing one fantasy after another to life.
I did that.
I can do this, too.
I race through the rest of My Deal With the Duke. Too good not to finish. I’ve been unable to put the damn thing down. Olivia’s storytelling really sucks you right in. Who knew Regency England was such a racy place?
I ain’t mad at it.
I’ve underlined and highlighted and dog-eared the shit out of it. Desperately searching for ideas. Inspiration.
I could kiss Olivia.
I need to call her instead.
But first, I need a plan.
Setting the book on my nightstand beside my phone and a half-empty bottle of lube—I bought Gracie’s favorite kind to have at my place—I get up and start to pace. My body vibrating from the sudden burst of energy.
I haven’t eaten all day—not since I ate what Eli brought over yesterday—but you wouldn’t know it from the way I move. Faster and faster. Mind racing.
Okay. We’ve pretty much checked off every item from Gracie’s bucket list. The anal, the sixty-nine, the sex in public. Although—
Wait, we haven’t checked off role play.
My pulse leaps. What if we role played Regency romance style? Could be a nice segue into how I changed my erring ways and why. I need to explain everything to her. Make her understand that what I thought was my truth was really just a perversion of it. Warped by fear and insecurity.
No better way to show a girl how secure you are than to show up dressed like a Regency Duke, right?
Right.
At least I hope I’m right.
The whole thing needs to be romantic and thoughtful and fucking perfect. Only what Gracie deserves. Especially after what I put her through.
But what if it’s not enough?
What if she doesn’t even answer my goddamn call?
I lace my fingers and bring them to the back of my head, letting it fall back as I blow out a breath.
There is a very good chance Gracie shoots me down. But I gotta try. I gotta show her how sorry I am, and how much she means to me.
Because I don’t think I can go on without her. She’s the one. My very own Lady Jane. The woman who turned my world upside down in all the best ways.
I want forever, and I want it with her.
So I pull a Max the Duke. I grab my phone, sit back down on the bed, and open a blank page on my notes app.
I start to write. First an apology. I want to make sure I get down all the things I’m feeling. All the things I want to say. I ain’t risking my future happiness with some half-assed impromptu speech. This gotta be good. Cute and funny and heartfelt.
Something Gracie would appreciate and connect with.
I cry while I write it.
I cry, too, when, finished memorizing my speech, I start to type out a to-do list. Setting this up is gonna be a full time job for a lot of people. I make a note to call my mamas, Eli. Marie.
Fuck, I need to find someone who knows French. Or maybe attempt to learn a few lines myself.
I’ll do it.
I’ll do anything to get my girl back.
Surveying my list, I queue up my contacts next. Grab the book and settle it on my lap.
Olivia is my first call.
She picks up on the second ring.
“Luke!” she says. “I’m so happy to hear from you. Did you get the book?”
“I did. Thank you. I actually just finished it.”
She whistles. “That was fast.”
“I fuckin’ loved it. Thank you for sending it over—it was just what I needed. Gave me so many ideas to get Gracie back.”
I hear the smile in Olivia’s voice when she speaks. “So you’ve seen the error of your ways, then?”
“Lordy, have I. Max and Jane have been an education, Olivia. In more ways than one. But let’s talk about them another time. Right now, I need your help.”
“Talk to me.”
I glance down at the guy on the cover. “Do you happen to know where I can find some breeches?”Chapter Thirty-FiveGracieI’m not able to check my phone until after eight, when my meetings for the day wrap up.
My heart falls out of my chest onto the floor when I see I have a missed call and a voicemail from Luke Rodgers.
My hands shake as I tap the voicemail and bring my phone to my ear.
“Gracie. Hey. It’s Luke. Um. Luke Rodgers.” A pause. “I’m not really sure where to start here. Totally understand if you delete this message without listening to it. Only what I deserve after the way I treated you. I’m so—” Another pause. This one longer. Filled with feeling. “I’m sorry, Grace. I never been more sorry in my life. I’ve done some thinking. Some ass kicking. Kicking my own ass, I mean. Again, totally understand if you want me to fuck off forever. Just say the word and I won’t bother you ever again. But if you’d have me, I’d like to see you. I have some things I’d like to say. If you’re okay with that, would you like to meet me at the farm sometime later this week? Tomorrow evenin’, maybe? I’ll work my schedule around yours. I hope to hear from you, Gracie. I miss you, baby.” He lets out a strained breath. “So damn much. Hope you’re havin’ a good day. I’m sorry. Bye, Grace.”