Southern Charmer (Charleston Heat 1)

“I hardly recognize myself anymore,” I say, laughing again.

“I recognize you.” Eli’s still looking at me. Eyes searching mine. “The real you. That woman is satisfied and happy. Hopeful, too. I’m lucky as all get out to be your friend.”

“More than that.”

He smirks. “Way more than that, Yankee girl.”

A beat of contented silence passes. My heart feels so full it’s about to burst.

“But then I’m not Yankee girl anymore, am I?”

“Guess you’re not. What would you like me to call you?”

I think about it for a second.

“Just Olivia,” I reply. “When you say it, it sounds brand new. Just like me. Just like us.”

“Just like us.” He smiles. “All right, Olivia. You gonna let me make you some biscuits tomorrow or what?”

I bite my lip, then lean forward to kiss him.

“I’d like that,” I say. “Speaking of biscuits…”

I reach around and pinch his butt. He laughs.

Then he rolls on top of me.

From then on out, it’s just his mouth and the stars and the wild feeling of being free.

Not a bad way to begin again.EpilogueEliSix Months LaterThree parts bourbon, two parts lemon juice, one part sweet potato simple syrup.

I measure the ingredients and pour them into a cocktail shaker. Clamping the lid on, I give it a good shake over ice. The cocktail is just the tiniest bit foamy when I pour it into a rocks glass.

“Whatcha makin’?” Luke says, sidling up to the bar.

“My own version of a whiskey sour.” I take a sip. Damn, that’s good. “Thought I’d make a signature cocktail for the party today. I’m calling it The Olivia.”

Luke grins. “A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“It is her birthday. Here, try it.”

I hand him the glass. While he sips, I glance around The Pearl. We closed the restaurant for the party, and even though we’re only serving a fraction of the food we usually do, the place is still bustling. The kitchen is a hive of activity as my cooks prepare the five course meal. My sommelier is in the wine vault, sniffing a glass of what I assume is our very best Malbec—Olivia’s favorite. Busboys are busy setting the enormous family-style table we set up in the middle of the restaurant. We’re expecting quite a few guests tonight; in the short time she’s been in town, Olivia has managed to make a lot of friends. Other writers, other professors, neighbors, chefs—they’ll all be here. I’ve even convinced her parents to fly down as a surprise.

This is Olivia’s first birthday in Charleston. I want to get it right.

We’ve got so damn much to celebrate. Her birthday, clearly. But then there’s the success of not only My Enemy the Earl, but also the second book in the series, My Deal with the Duke, too. Olivia is working hard to build her platform, and it shows. Readers are already clamoring for the third book, which she’s having a damn good time writing. Her teaching schedule is also picking up. She’s so popular with students that the department head approved her commercial fiction class, which she’ll be teaching in the fall.

“Damn,” Luke says, taking another sip before handing the glass back to me. “That is good. I was doubtful about the sweet potato syrup—”

“Hey,” I shoot back. “I made it with your potatoes.”

“Probably why it tastes so fuckin’ delicious.”

“More like it’s my superior mixology skills that make this cocktail so deadly,” I say, holding up the glass.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that.” Luke reaches behind the bar and grabs a Bud Light, which he pops open on the edge of the counter. “We both know it’s my potatoes.”

He’s grinning again.

A big, shit eating grin I haven’t seen on his face in ages. He almost looks like a kid again. Minus the scruff and the beer.

“Hey,” I say. “What’s going on with you? You look different.”

Luke takes a long pull of beer and looks away. “Nothin’.”

He’s looking toward the door now. Like he’s waiting on someone to walk through it.

I narrow my eyes at him.

“You expectin’ someone?”

“No,” he says a little too quickly. “When does Olivia make her entrance?”

I check my watch. “Seven. Told everyone else to get here a little earlier so she walks into a full house.”

“I thought this wasn’t a surprise.”

“It’s not,” I said. “Just feels right havin’ her walk in to see this whole new community she’s built, you know?”

Luke pins me with a look. “The community you’ve both built. You’re a part of this thing too, Eli.”

I nod, taking a sip of my Olivia. It’s as delicious as the girl it’s named after.

“I appreciate that,” I say. “Olivia and I have been really good at that—encouraging each other. Including each other in what we’re doing. I know I feed off her passion, and I’d like to think she does the same with me.”

Luke’s eyes are still on me. Although there’s this faraway look in them now. His grin contracts.