Lord Have Mercy (Southern Gentleman 2)

“That trick play in the fourth quarter made my balls hurt, FYI.”

I walked away on Ezra’s laugh, heading straight for my cruiser.

After a quick stop at home to drop Dooley off, I headed to the corner of Madison and Rowe.

Her house was cute. It actually reminded me a lot of the woman that was currently occupying it.

Painted a baby shade of blue, there was a brighter blue door that stood out almost blatantly. The mailbox was blue, and even her car was blue.

The flowers in her front yard, in her neatly-trimmed flower beds, were bright yellow and orange.

Her grass was cut almost obsessively perfect, and even her driveway was edged beautifully.

She had to have a yard service, because no woman I’d ever met could make a yard look like that.

Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had someone out there with scissors.

But, as cute as it was, it was also inconvenient.

The house sat up on a large hill, and the driveway leading up to the garage was sloped so severely that I honestly wasn’t sure that it was safe to park a car in the driveway for any length of time. Hell, she had to have one hell of a good emergency brake.

Parking my cruiser on the street, I got out and hit the door lock button, thankful that I’d taken off the obnoxious honk that sounded each time I locked it.

That way, as I arrived at Camryn’s door, she didn’t realize I was there.

Standing off to the side of the door—which was habit at this point—I knocked and waited until I heard the pitter patter of footsteps heading my way.

When I was sure that she saw me, I grinned and said, “Let me in.”

“I don’t know that I should,” came her muffled reply.

“I think you should,” I told her. “Or are you too chicken?”

The cutest growl on the planet sounded from behind the door, then she started to unlock her door.

Honestly, I was expecting a deadbolt and a chain. Possibly the door handle lock.

What I was not expecting was for her to remove a goddamn bar from the other side, then unlock, unchain, and disarm.

I blinked owlishly as she swung it open and glared.

I didn’t miss a beat as I pushed my way inside.

She didn’t put up much of a fight, though. Instead she backed away and waited until I was inside before relocking, rebolting, rechaining and rearming her security force field.

I waited until she was completely done before saying, “You look like shit.”

She burst out laughing. “Thanks for not holding your punches.”

I winked. “Anything for you, darlin’.” I paused. “Have you eaten yet?”

She shrugged. “I had a bagel and some cream cheese.”

“Bagels aren’t on your diet,” I teased.

“Bagels are my happy place,” she countered. “Plus, I had a bad day and even worse night. I was forced to do something—like go to a football game that I didn’t want to go to—and I needed something that would make me happy. The bagel was it.”

“What kind of bagel was it?” I asked.

She smiled sheepishly. “A cinnamon crunch one with pecan cinnamon cream cheese from Panera Bread.”

My stomach rumbled. “Those are my favorite,” I admitted.

She snorted. “Those are everyone’s favorite. Luckily, the last time I bought them I froze my last four. I wasn’t sure how they’d do frozen and then thawed, but they were honestly just as good now as they were when I first bought them three months ago.”

I walked past her into her house, taking in the hardwood floors that looked like they’d been slightly burned, as well as the beautiful white crown molding.

I stopped when I got to her living room/kitchen area and stared at her fridge.

“That’s one big ass fridge,” I said. “How much did that set you back?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was here when I bought the place. Everything was. I think it was one of those Parade of Homes places that the builder showed off their skills at. Everything about this house is so ultra-modern and beautiful. I love it and all, but sometimes I feel like I’m living in a showroom.”

“You have to admit the fridge is nice, though,” I said. “I’d kill for that fridge. Do you know how much beer you could fit in there?”

She snorted. “I know that I can fit an entire half sheet birthday cake in there.”

She walked over and pulled both doors open, and my mouth fell open wide.

She knew she could fit the cake in there because she had one in there already.

“Whose birthday is it?” I asked.

“Raleigh’s,” she answered. “I’m going over there tomorrow early. We’re going to eat it for breakfast.”

My brows rose. “You’re going to eat a cake for breakfast? What about your diet?”

I honestly didn’t care about her diet. She was working out, eating good most of the time, and looking great. If she wanted a cheat day, she should have a cheat day.