Southern Charmer (Charleston Heat 1)

I’m starting to think I’ll never move on.

Approximately one hundred years later, class finally ends. I’ve had sixty minutes to think about it, but I still have no idea what I’m going to say to Olivia when I approach her. Or if I should approach her at all.

I want to wait for her to come to me. That’s how this is supposed to go, because I’m not pushing her again, remember? But I also don’t want to be rude. And what if this is the last time I see her for another four months? I can’t fucking bear the thought.

With shaking hands, I roll up my mat and grab my water bottle. Sweat drips down my temples onto my chest as I stand up.

“Hey.”

I nearly jump at the sound of Olivia’s voice. I turn around, and immediately my heart melts. She’s a fucking mess. Hair sticking up. Red face.

She’s smiling.

I have never seen a more beautiful woman in my whole goddamn life.

Stay cool stay cool stay cool.

“Olivia,” I say, pulse beating a drum inside my ears. “I’m—wow. I’m really glad to see you.”

She looks at me for a long beat. I look back. Something moves between us. Something good.

Letting out a breath, she tucks her rolled up mat underneath her arm.

“How have you been?” she says. Her voice trembles a little.

She’s nervous, too. Good sign? Bad?

“I’m okay,” I reply. “What about you?”

She nods. “I’m okay.”

We’re looking at each other again. After a stretch of uncomfortable silence, we both laugh at the same time.

“Sorry,” she says. “It’s just…been a while since I’ve seen you, Eli.”

Four months, thirteen days, and one-point-five hours. Not that I’m counting.

“How’s the book coming?” I say.

“It’s done,” she replies, brightening. “Gunnar and Cate nearly killed me toward the end. But I clawed my way through the story. I actually just sent it to my ARC team this morning.”

I arch a brow. “ARC team? I don’t know what that is, but if it has something to do with My Enemy the Earl, then I want in.”

Olivia laughs again, and I worry I’m going to melt into a literal puddle of goo at her feet. I love the sound of her laugh. Love the way it touches her eyes.

“It’s a team of reviewers you send ARCs to—advanced reader copies. The thinking is that bloggers and reviewers who like the book will post glowing reviews of it, and that will help spread the word about it before publication.”

I nod, impressed. “Word of mouth is the best kind of marketing there is.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you decide to go through a publishing house? Or are you publishing it yourself?”

“I’m indie all the way,” she says, proudly. “I’ve done a lot of research. Traditional and indie publishing each have their pluses and minuses. But I like the freedom I get with self-publishing. Plus it gives me a good excuse to hone my marketing skills.”

As if this woman could get any sexier.

“’Cause you’re the boss.”

“Yup.”

I shift on my feet. I resist the urge to ask her out for a cup of coffee or something. She’s gotta be the one to make that call.

I find myself praying that she will.

“Welp,” I say. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you. I can’t wait to find out how the story ends—you know I’ve been a fan of Gunnar and Cate’s from the very beginning.”

Olivia bites her lip, her eyes moving over my face. I get the feeling she’s weighing the scales in her head, too. Wondering what to say next.

“Release day is next Thursday,” she says at last. “I’m doing a signing over at Rainbow Row Books to celebrate. You should come.”

My heart sputters inside my chest.

I don’t want to read too much—

Fuck it. I’m gonna read too much into her invitation whether I’m supposed to or not.

“I’d love to,” I reply. “I’ll get the details from Louise.”

Olivia’s smile deepens. “Great.”

“Great. I look forward to seeing you again.”

We say our goodbyes, and then I pretend that I have to talk to the instructor about something so Olivia can leave without me awkwardly following her out.

My mind is already racing. I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I’m shaking I’m so excited. And so nervous.

Time for the grovel. The grand gesture.

I need to talk to Gracie. And Luke. And Louise. And anyone else who can help.

This has to be perfect.Chapter Thirty-SevenOliviaI straighten the stack of paperbacks on the table at Rainbow Row Books for the millionth time. I can’t get over how gorgeous they are. I splurged and hired a well-known cover artist for My Enemy the Earl. She did a fantastic job. The cover is just colorful and different enough to stand out, but historical romance readers will recognize some familiar elements: gorgeous, scantily clad couple, cursive script, and a sweeping, sunlit background.

I also can’t get over that these paperbacks exist. Touching my book—all three hundred and eighteen pages of it, in the flesh—is as surreal and joyous an experience as I fantasized it would be. I’m so damn proud of it.