Southern Charmer (Charleston Heat 1)

Chapter EighteenEli“Olivia!” Can’t help it. My gaze flicks down her body. “He—hey.”

Of course.

Of course Yankee girl shows up to The Spotted Wolf looking hot as hell five seconds after I decide to pump the brakes.

What a sick fucking joke.

Thanks for nothing, universe.

Olivia, bless her, is wearing blue jeans that are tight tight tight. Her white button down would be prim if it wasn’t partially see through. The red lace bra she’s wearing underneath—

I can’t.

I focus my gaze on her feet instead. She’s wearing cute Chuck Taylors that are a little scuffed up.

Her hair falls in loose, unruly waves around her shoulders. I bite the inside of my bottom lip, hard, to keep from winding a lock around my finger. I imagine how silky it would feel. How her lips would fall open and her cheeks would flush when I gave it a tug.

I can smell her shampoo. Something clean and herbal.

She smells good enough to eat.

“I finished my chapter early today, so I thought I’d do some exploring. I saw the lights from the sidewalk and came in for a quick drink…” Olivia puckers her brow. “Eli? You all right?”

“Yep,” I bite out, blinking. “Sorry, I just—uh. Long day. Beer—” Bullshit.

I go in for a hug. It’s awkward, all thanks to me. Olivia has to go on her tip toes to reach me, and I kind of half crouch, half bend over. My brain screams slow. But my body—

Well. There’s a reason I keep my crotch region bowed away from her.

I fall back. Luke gives me a not so subtle nudge.

“Don’t be rude, Elijah,” he says. “Introduce us.”

I tug a hand through my hair. “Olivia, this is my friend Luke. Luke, this is my new neighbor, Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luke says, aiming his all-American-baseball-player smile at Olivia while extending his hand. “I hear you’re new in town.”

She takes Luke’s hand. “I’m already smitten with it.”

“Charleston’s a great city. Only downside is that this grump lives here.” Luke points his thumb at me.

“I’m not a grump,” I bite out.

Luke shrugs. “See what I mean?”

I resist the urge to punch him in that handsome mug of his.

Grace gives Olivia a hug, and they chat for a minute. It’s obvious they’re friends, both of them laughing and gesticulating wildly as they catch up. I have to say that seeing how well they get along makes me feel all warm and mushy inside. Olivia’s a natural conversationalist. Good listener, thoughtful talker. Grace shoots me a look, grinning.

I like this one.

Because Olivia wasn’t great enough. Now she’s got to go and be wonderful with my sister, too.

Yet another reason to think I might not deserve this girl. I’m gripped by the terrible idea that I have nothing to offer her. Which, in my rational mind, I know is ridiculous. I’m feeding her. Editing her book. Encouraging her to chase after this incredible career she wants. I’m inspiring her in the same way she’s inspiring me.

That counts for something. It has to.

Has to.

“Let’s get you somethin’ to drink,” I say to Olivia during a pause in their conversation. “What’re you having?”

Olivia glances at my beer, then at the empty shot glasses on the bar. “That looks good.”

Behind the bar, Jake nods, checking out Olivia before turning to grab the Fireball.

My grip tightens on my bottle. I am not a jealous guy. But all of a sudden I’m fantasizing about clocking every dickhead in this bar who dares to so much as glance at Olivia.

I spear Jake with a look when he turns back around. He takes the hint, quickly pouring our shots and handing Olivia a beer before busying himself with the dishwasher.

She picks up the shot glass and gives its contents a sniff. “It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a shot. What the hell is this stuff? Smells like candy.”

“Tastes like it, too.” Luke grabs his glass and taps it to Olivia’s. “Actually, that’s a lie. It kind of tastes like fiery death. But it gets the job done.”

Olivia cocks a brow, smiling. “Fiery death. All right then. I’m in.”

We take the shot together, my eyes glued to her face the whole time. She winces, blinking hard, after she swallows. Her eyes water a bit. I can tell she wants to sputter, or maybe gag, but instead she just shakes her head and grabs her beer, taking a long pull.

“Whew,” she says, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “That is…interesting.”

I’m smiling now, too. God damn she’s cute.

“Yep. You’re definitely gonna feel interesting tomorrow morning, that’s for sure,” Grace says.

The patio is really getting packed. People hang out in front of the stage, waiting for the band to begin. I look up when the lead singer from Buns ’n Roses introduces himself into the microphone. A beat later, the band bursts out into a loud, throbbing version of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard.