Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

“I know. And I recognize his interest in you and your business is purely professional.” Luke nods. “I just worried I wasn’t capable of helpin’ you move forward the way he has. I thought I couldn’t help make your dreams come true. I thought our dreams were too different, and I could never ask you to give up yours to be with me. Same as you’d never ask me to give up mine.”

My throat is so tight I can hardly talk.

“So what’s changed?”

Luke holds out his hand. “Let me show you.”

I take his hand. He leads me over to the table. I didn’t see before that the bowls were full—looks like one of Elijah’s famous breakfast grits bowls. A bed of Luke’s creamy yellow grits topped with succotash, bacon, and a poached egg.

Luke drops my hand and grabs a silver carafe. Holding the top, he carefully pours steaming coffee into the mugs beside the bowls.

Setting down the carafe, he looks up at me. Moves so that he’s beside me. Then behind me. Scruff catching on my neck as he leans down to murmur in my left ear.

“Your coffee.” He moves to murmur in the right one now. “My grits. See, I thought our dreams were so different. But then I realized they aren’t very different at all. For starters, we both clearly got a thing for breakfast.” I scoff at that. He curls his hand around the nape of my neck, straightening. “But more than that, neither of us does what we do for money or recognition or whatever. We do it to bring people comfort. To create community. You didn’t expand your shop because you wanted the accolades or the income. Although those things sure as hell don’t hurt, because they allow you to keep doing what you love. You did it because you give a shit, Gracie. You did it because you love this town and you want to make it better.” He gives my neck a squeeze. “That’s my dream, too, Gracie girl. I want to do the same thing with my grits. I want to make the farm a place where people can gather. Be themselves. Enjoy each other’s company over good food and better coffee. And I got a plan for us to make that happen together, right here in this barn.”

He moves to stand beside me, his hand still curled around my neck.

Tears are spilling freely out of my eyes now.

This idea of his is beautiful.

Beautifully profound.

I look at him. So full. Of longing and love and pain.

This is so lovely it’s painful.

“You’re right,” I breathe. “Although who’s to say my coffee is better than your grits?”

Luke grins. “I do.” He gives my neck another squeeze. Voice hoarse when he speaks again. “I fucked up, Grace. And I’m sorry. I assumed way too much. And, well—”

“Assuming makes an ass out of you and me,” I say, wiping away my tears. Grinning.

His footsteps scuffle on the floor as Luke shifts to stand in front of me. Eyes locked on mine. The blue reflects the flicker of candles around us.

“If you’ll have me, Gracie Jackson, I’d like to make our dreams come true. Together. We’d make a good team. I promise to be a good partner. A good man. I promise to be the man you deserve.” He sniffs. “I’m so in love with you, baby. You’re the only one I want ridin’ along with me on my tractor. That throb is reserved just for you. It’s always been just you.”

Lord above, I have chills.

This boy.

He brought me back. To life. To myself.

Like I could ever say no to that.

Like I could ever say no to a Duke.

My body swirls with goodness as, biting my lip, I reach up. Take Luke’s wig off. And then I’m rolling onto my toes and tilting my head and kissing him.

Tongue. Tears. Everything.

He takes my head in his hands, pulling at me with his mouth. Kissing me deeply. The way he always does.

Oh, yes. Oh, yes, this is the one. The kiss.

The man.

The dream.

“Not a fan of the mullet?” he says, sucking on my tongue.

I bite the corner of his mouth. “I love you just as you are, my Lord. The wig is nice, but totally not necessary.”

Luke pulls back. Both of us breathing hard as he touches his forehead to mine.

“I am gonna fuck you, my Lady,” he pants. “But first, I gotta feed you.”

I grin. “This is your barn, Your Grace. You call the shots here.”

“It’s your barn, too.” He searches my eyes. “It’s ours.”

I can’t help it. I press up for another kiss. Quick and wet.

“I like the sound of that,” I say, falling back.

Luke looks at me. Lips twitching again.

He dips a finger inside the neckline of my dress.

“Tell me something,” he says.

Y’all. I’m grinning so hard at all these references to My Deal With the Duke. Man really did his homework.