Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

I nod again. Face crumpling against the force of all the things that this call—this man—is making me feel.

“Tomorrow works,” I say.

“Good.” He lets out a breath. “And Gracie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For giving me a chance. I don’t deserve it. But I promise I will make it worth your while.”

I swallow. Look down at my lap.

Heart torn halfway between hurt and hope.Chapter Thirty-SixLukeI step into the barn to see my mamas running around the space like chickens with their heads cut off.

“You got the candles?” Gwen calls, spearing stems of lilies into a crystal glass.

“Have ’em right here,” Mama huffs, setting a cardboard box down on the table in the middle of the room. “Flowers’re looking mighty sexy.”

“Thanks, honey.” Gwen turns to kiss Mama. “So are you.”

“All this romance in the air got me in some kinda mood, I’ll say that much.”

“Think we got time for a quickie—”

“No,” I say, my ridiculous riding boots making a racket as I move toward my mamas. “Nope. No quickies. Not until everything is perfect, y’all hear me?”

Mama’s face lights up when she turns to look at me.

“My, my. Aren’t you a vision!”

“Who’re you supposed to be again?” Gwen asks, adjusting her glasses. “Paul Revere? King George? That hunk from Outlander—what’s his name?”

“Jamie Frasier. Sam Heughan. Same thing in my mind.” Mama beams at me. “You’re just as handsome, Luke. Who knew my boy looked so good in a cravat?”

I tug at the garment in question, clearing my throat. “I’m supposed to be Maximilian John Lockley, the fourth Duke of Haverford, from Olivia’s book—My Deal With the Duke. Not sure if I’m really pullin’ it off, though. I feel more like an idiot than I do a Duke.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mama says, kissing my cheek. “Gracie is gonna love it.”

I set down the plates I carried over from the house. Let out a breath. I’m so nervous my hands are shaking a little.

“That’s the hope. I need to pull out all the stops, Mama. I gotta get this girl back.”

“You will,” she replies, matter-of-factly. “No one can resist you. Whether you’re dressed as a farmer or a very fetching aristocrat.”

“Easy for you to say,” I shoot back. “Think it’s safe to say you’re biased.”

“Course I am! But even so. I know you better than anyone, Luke. Flesh and blood aside—you’re a good man by any standard. You work hard and love harder. Look around you.” Mama gestures to the barn I’ve labored day and night to turn into a Regency restaurant-slash-dreamscape-slash-ballroom-slash-bar. “You’ll go to great lengths to make the people you care about feel loved. Feel seen. Gracie loves Regency romance, so you’re bringing a scene from one of her favorite books to life. Costumes and candles and all. If that’s not good love, I don’t know what is. The rest will fall into place.”

I swallow the tightness in my throat. “Thanks, Mama.”

Let’s hope she’s right.

“Doesn’t hurt that you’re so handsome,” she adds.

“You got good, girthy produce, too,” Gwen says. “Don’t forget that important detail.”

I laugh.

Needed that.

“So we’ll set the table. Get the flowers and the candles ready.” Gwen looks up from her vase. “What else can we do?”

I reach down, wanting to slide my hands into my pockets. Only my breeches don’t have pockets, so I dig my pocket watch out of my waistcoat instead. Overkill? Yes. But like I said, I need to pull out all the stops here. I’m going for one hundred percent authenticity. Right down to the candles and the coffee I ground by hand.

Although I guess the grits, the beer, and the instrumental Trisha Yearwood I found on iTunes didn’t exactly exist in Max the Duke’s time.

Going for ninety percent authenticity, then.

I look down at the watch. It’s quarter to five. Two solid hours before Gracie arrives.

“Elijah is deliverin’ the food here in a bit here. Marie is bringing dessert. Otherwise, I think we’re set. Thank y’all for your help. There’s no way I could’ve done it without you. I appreciate it, Mama.”

Mama smiles. “We’re happy to help. You know we love Gracie. I can’t wait for y’all to make up so you can live happily ever after and make me some grandbabies.”

My heart skips a beat. I don’t want to get my hopes up too high. There’s no guarantee Gracie will accept my apology and take me back.

But if she does—

We got a future of tractor rides and good food and good people and, yeah, hopefully some babies ahead of us.

Damn do I like the sound of that.* * *GracieI’m surprised to see my brother’s truck pulled up outside Luke’s house.

I’m even more surprised to see Olivia leaning against it, a small smile on her lips as she watches me approach.

Heart beating loudly in my ears, I roll down my window.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

I pull into the spot beside her. Turn off the engine.